Roswell revisited: The day I knew aliens did exist
Jimbo, of course, was skeptical. Me? I wanted to believe
Jimbo and I arrived in Roswell, New Mexico, driving his Ford Explorer, late at night.
Can’t remember the year, sometime in the 1990s I think.
Both of us were tired from a long road trip from Los Angeles, and grabbed the first nice looking motel we came across.
I was excited — I was finally going to see for myself, what happened in Roswell in the summer of 1947.
Jimbo, of course, was skeptical. Me? I wanted to believe. I did, because I thought there was some truth to the story, that an alien spacecraft, with aliens aboard, crashed on that fateful night, during a thunderstorm.
I slept like a log, but Jimbo didn’t — awakened by loud roaring noises, that he said shook the walls.
A squadron of USAF B-1 bombers flew in, and woke up the town — except for me, of course. I slept like a baby.
The next morning, our first stop was the UFO Museum & Research Center, where we tried to make contact with the founder, former undertaker Glenn Dennis.
Glenn was the man who helped break open what we now call the Roswell UFO incident. The mother of all UFO incidents.
This was quickly arranged, and soon, Jimbo and I were seated in a quiet room with Glenn, asking him to recount his amazing story.
Some of you are probably familiar with it, but here it is again, in brief.
Glenn, who was an undertaker then in 1947, received a strange phone call from the airbase in Roswell on a hot July morning.
They wanted to know how to keep bodies preserved, and, if he had any children-sized coffins. He said he did, and he gave them some suggestions.
He then got a call to pick up an injured airman, who was hurt in some kind of crash. He did so and brought him to the base clinic.
As he walked into the base, a place he was familiar with, he saw a station wagon with strange debris in it, and even odder hieroglyphics on it.
The base was busy, with people running back and forth. He walked in, bought a Coke from a machine, and was confronted by a senior officer he had never met before.
The man asked what he thought he was doing there. Glenn, who was a young fellow and not one to be cowed, said, he was having a Coke!
The officer then told him he’d better clear on out. Why, Glenn asked.
Because they would “find his bones in the desert” if he didn’t.
It was then that a nurse, a nun actually, who Glenn was kind of sweet on, told him to leave the base now.
She promised to meet him at a restaurant the next day, which she did.
At that meeting, she told an incredible story. An alien spaceship had crashed, and she had assisted in an autopsy of an alien being with two high-ranking pathologists flown in from Andrews AFB in Washington, D.C.
She described the aliens as humanoids, what we now call “Greys.” Small creatures with big heads, big eyes, long fingers, no genitals and no alimentary tract.
Creatures that seemed to be created for inter-planetary travel.
Glenn drew what he heard on a cigarette box, and slipped it into his pocket.
They said farewell, and the next day the nun was flown out of Roswell and was never heard from again.
It is rumoured that she was shipped to the Vatican in Rome, where she lived out the remainder of her life in secret. But this is not known, for sure.
Glenn seemed like an honest man, and I totally believed his story. He told me that years later there was a mysterious break-in at his company office.
And the only thing that was taken, was the cigarette box with his written alien description on it. It was kept in a file cabinet, and someone wanted it badly.
Someone who wanted to cover up the Roswell story.
After saying our goodbyes, Jimbo and I visited the Roswell airport, which was once a bustling Strategic Air Command airbase.
There we toured the infamous Hangar 84, where the alien bodies and UFO wreckage were briefly stored prior to being flown out.
The workers there were only too happy to tour us around … showing us a strange wall of bricks, which they said was put up very quickly.
You could tell it was a rush job. There was also an entrance to a tunnel, which they said had been closed off. The base was an important nuclear weapon bomber base, so this was not really unusual to see.
And thus concluded our visit to Roswell.
While I came away totally convinced of the story, my brother Jimbo, was still not convinced. So we came away with opposing views.
The visit to Roswell would mark the first year of ten years of intense research on my part, on the subject of UFOs. Jimbo and I would also visit Area 51 in Nevada, where it is alleged that UFO craft are being back-engineered.
But that story is for another day.
After hearing Glenn’s amazing story, I needed no further proof. I knew then that aliens were real.
While I would come across more evidence, I would always remember this gracious, friendly man.
Glenn Dennis was a man of character, and he risked his reputation by coming forward. Giving confidence to others, to tell their Roswell story.
I heard he eventually moved to an old folks home, and would die there of natural causes in April of 2015.
Jimbo and I were damn lucky to have met him, and listened to his story first-hand. A story which is still considered the best case of proof among UFO proponents.