I am writing as a friend and teacher. I have quite an extensive and unusual past to relay to society. lt is my express desire that what I teach can help others come to terms with their own haunting memories. I wish to make it known that visitations from other worlds historically have occurred. There appears to be points to these encounters designed by superior mind and heart to assist humanity on their journey into tomorrow.
My family lived in the town of Bristol, NH. lt was a privilege to grow up in a family where my father's ability to provide our needs was his strength. He built a new apartment, and an actual residence into the old barn area of 50 Green Street. He was a handyman, and a faithful means of support. His name was Raymond Morrilll. I am his son Gene.
The new address was built as two stories upon a dirt floor fom a cellar hole. The focus of this basement was our furnace that hung through the floor, and appeared above head at maintenance level. The black dirt floor always showed a thousand indistinguishable footsteps tossed about in disarray. Dad had built two access areas. The most inviting was a door which locked from the inside, and let out at ground level behind the house into the back yard. Least inviting was the inside hatch. From beneath we were confronted by a hand made, wooden ladder built vertically against the stone foundation. lt anchored from the dirt and dust of the floor, and climbed to the ceiling. There, at the top, was a heavy wooden hatch made from very thick planks that hinged upward. The good thought about this trap door was that it was never locked. lt enabled us to gain entrance from below to the inside entrance way, and the outside door to our apartment.
I am unaware of when my encounters first began. Everything seemed normal through the early years. I was nurtured by my mom, and my basic needs were met by my dad. Around the age of 6, which would be circa 1956, strange dreams began. This dream wasn\'t pleasant. lt was a nightmare. The fear which persisted for several years grew to be a burden, then a lesson.
My nightmare was a startling event which seemed so real that I had to reflect back upon it to learn what lay hidden in memory. It emerged toward the end of the dream. I remember scrambling from the cellar onto the ladder. I was in mortal fear and panic. I climbed as quickly as possible toward the top. As I reached the hatch, I felt a breath of hope that I had escaped what I was fleeing. I pushed upon the weight of the trap door. The welcome feeling of it giving way, as it swung upward, excited me. Just then, a great hand latched upon my left ankle. Panic set in! My heart pounded within my throat. I slowly turned toward the floor. As I turned, I loudly said to myself "l know who THEY are!"
As I trembled, I awoke! The stunning sense of how vivid the experience was caused me to think back upon the dream to try to learn what I could. The freshness of the dream gave me a glimpse of aliens! I thought there might have been a medical surgery that could have caused some discomfort. To this day I have a slit in the soft tissue of my upper mouth.
Yet, there was something big! He was tall. As short and young as I was, he had been capable of reaching me near the ceiling from the floor! He was strong. Though the dream was potent, it's memory quickly faded.
From that time forth, I had a dreaded fear of the basement. I believe I was visited on a regular basis on summer nights during my formative years. I feel I was taken at night during sleep, and returned without memory to my bed. I am quite certain these encounters included sexual games. Dream-like memories I have indicate I was stood against one wall where I trembled. Across the bounds of the cellar I was confronted by Bigfoot. He was my boogy man! I would cautiously, and with fear in my heart, make frequent checks under my bed before I went to sleep for the night.
There were other dreams. I had a few dreams of floating above a dark world which lacked a moon. lt was lit only by starlight. Below I saw sheds and shantys out of repair. It was a crowded world with little room between structures. Strange, though, was the fact that there wasn\'t a single life form in view! My fear of the basement moved with me! When our family finally did move into the redesigned, older part of the homestead, known as 49 Green Street, I learned new fears associated with the other cellar. This cellar was better finished. lt had partial cement floors. Originally it had a coal burning furnace, with a shoot and storage room for the fuel. I had been happy to move. I thought the nightmares were over and forgotten. Yet something haunted me, even there.
I remember one day, at about the age of 13, getting the courage to venture downstairs into the basement to confront my fears. Consciously, I agonized about the possibility there could actually be something there. I was alone in the house. For the entire history of these encounters, I had kept the truth about my suspicions and fears to myself. I took with me a hammer. Slowly I opened the cellar door, and listened, as I sweat. There was not a sound. I put the light on. I cautiously ventured down the stairs, looking about in leery anticipation. I was looking up to see if my boogy man was there. Strangely, the moments passed without a memory of an encounter, or of any apparent lapses in my experience. The fear passed from me. A sense of relief then buoyed me.
My own memory recalls a summer evening when I was about 10. My sister and myself were out toward the woods in the tall grass of the field. lt was near dusk. We were rolling in the grass, and enjoying the exuberance of tumbling. I heard rustling and snapping among the branches of the brush and trees along the edge of the woods. I looked up and saw the tallest, thickest beast I'd ever imagined! He was about 12 feet tall. He wore a thick coat of long, shaggy, brown fur. He walked upright through trees, brushing and crushing branches as he proceeded toward the opening to the field.
I looked for my sister, and hollered, "Janet, run! There's a bear!" She looked up. I watched here head look to me, then toward the woods, two, then three times. I ran. She stayed. I arrived home out of breath. I asked my father to take out his rifle to shoot the bear. l was fearful my sister was in danger! He said to relax. There probably was not a danger. Sure enough, Janet came home shortly after me. It was about three minutes apart between my arrival, and her own appearance, strangely, not out of breath! She looked at me, and as true as I had seen this tall animal, she insisted there had been nothing there!
Another witness had been my oldest brother Rodney. Early one summer morning he had gotten up alone and walked outside toward the building we had known as the chicken coop. This frame of a building was essentially hollow. There were huge, unscreened windows incapable of caging a living hen. As Rod approached, he was startled by the sight of a mother, and her two children Bigfoot bounding from a window of the building. The mother's height was never mentioned to me, yet the height of the children were near adult human stature. He watched in shock and amazement as the three loped off through the field, hand in hand, into the woods!
Years latter, I was inquisitive of a friend about if he had ever experienced the boogy man. He said he had been haunted by thoughts and memories, as well. lt was his own suggestion that the boogy man was,indeed, Bigfoot. When I grew up, I became impressed with the goal to understand and come to terms with my memories and dreams. I came upon a short story included in a book of encounters with aliens. I regret I have failed to note the book, title, or author, but I cherish the lessons through comparison. I read that Bigfoot was indeed alien. He transports through the cosmos on an energy beam. Sometimes he is included along with aliens from other worlds on star vessels. He is transient. He speaks, and has intellect plus abilities beyond our own. One of these abilities is to cause the human memory to forget. His home world is a dim lit planet. There were other specifics, but these are the most striking.
Dream like memories I have indicate I encountered them while I stood trembling against a cellar wall. Occasionally there were others to hold on to and hug for support. I remember speaking to them. There were many questions, and some actual answers. The dim world dream was one such answer of a question about where they were from. I imagine I pled to retain the knowledge, thus the memory.
I believe I was groomed by Bigfoot toward a life choice designed to experience what would become known to me as my life's mission. My lessons were designed to engage the principles of universal laws, known throughout God's creation. Their essence teaches from heart. They include Moses' Laws, and the law of karma. Each life is supposed to support it\'s own mission. Each self has been assigned the task of judging it's own actions. lt is not up to others to judge you. lt has occurred throughout man's history not only judging, but treating others with prejudice, instead of as your neighbor. There have been so many instances of abuse by men of earth that to alleviate this lopsided debt, men would have to immediately change their dangerous, conscious acts and thoughts toward others.
The true nature of creation I learned has to benefit from making friends. We are each a part of a sentient and compassive being known as God. As equals, we should treat every life as if we were that life form. Each person\'s dreams, goals, and missions should be learned and respected. Even the earth, herself, has to be tended and cared for. Aliens are here to teach us these purposes. My mission has been described as an intermediary to men to help humans diminish a massive karmic debt, lest this earth find itself in the troughs of biblical prophecy. Revelations is the outcome of unpaid karmic debt.
I will finish this story on a peculiar note. In recent memory I have experienced night time visits. On one such night, I heard heavy footfalls upon my stairs. I listened, and witnessed heavy breathing high up toward the ceiling of the bedroom door. I don\'t have memory of what entailed, but I was told that I jumped out of my shorts when the door opened. Then I calmed, and we spoke. I believe these visitors have a design and purpose better than man has witnessed. I also trust and team from the heart when these thoughts and ideas guide me.
So, do not fear the boogy man. I have met him, and he is a friend.
Written By: Gene R. Morrill
