How to Collect Alien Implants

Collecting Foreign Objects

Soon after I first visited The Academy, I found my first implant. That object was a
translucent spear head shaped item that suddenly appeared in the flesh of my left
calf when I was about eight years old. With my mother's help I removed it, and kept
it in a drawer for several weeks until it somehow disappeared. Probably a member of
the family threw it out but no one did admit to that; these many years later, none of
my relatives remember the incident at all, even though four people did see the object
and knew of its origin in my leg. Memory in my family is not consistent from person
to person, my mother being the only one besides me who remembers anything of
this at all. Her own memories of the unusual events in our lives only go so far as the
UFO sighting she shared with my grandmother. No one but me recalls the story my
grandfather told, or the events surrounding the visitors early in my childhood. I'm
pretty alone out here on the fringe, except for the people I've never met who share
the same experience.

Several years ago Whitley Strieber published a book on the physical evidence for
extraterrestial contact, the result of considerable work on implanted objects found in
the bodies of abductees. One of his subjects, a man named Long (many of my
ancestors are of the Long family, Pawnee from Nebraska) had volunteered an object
that appeared in the calf of his leg when he was a boy, and which was still in his leg
more than thirty years later. He was from the mid South, like me, and there was
other evidence of ET contact in his family. The object shown in the book was a small
spear head shaped object of a whitish translucent material, exactly the same as the
one I extracted from my leg at age eight.

Over the years I have detected four other objects of unknown origin in my own body
and I have memory of one implanted by the military in 1972. That one I have never
found and the memory may not be genuine; or it may have migrated to a place I
can't scratch. Upon returning from Vietnam I did have a unique experience
involving what may have been a second military implant, but the timing may not be
proof of that. A year or so after my return from the war I developed a bump behind
a lower left molar. The irritation drew me to massage the area with a fingertip, and
after about a week of minor problems an object emerged. It was whitish, translucent
and somewhat flexible, of the same material as my first implant. The shape was
perfectly geometric, a very shallow four sided pyramid about three eighths of an
inch across. I kept it for several weeks and then it, too, somehow disappeared.

The tip of my right index finger, the one with which I had been massaging the site,
suffered from an odd tissue damage, as though the flesh had been burned to a depth
of an eighth of an inch or more. It was painless--the tissue simply died, hardened,
and peeled away. New tissue replaced the old without any scarring.

In the 90's, when my awareness of contact was becoming clear and my memories of
"The Ship" were emerging, I began to experiment with voluntary telepathic
communication with my ET benefactors. Twice, two years apart, I requested that I
be given something that I could show to others physically, something real enough to
hold in the palm of my hand; and twice, after very strange events involving both
military and UFO activity, I was rewarded with a small spear head shaped object
embedded in the palm of my left hand. These objects both appeared overnight,
without any sign of surgical entry. I did not make the connection between the first
object and the first request I made; but I realized on the second try that this was the
evidence I was getting, in precisely the terms I had given. I did not make a third
request.

I did show the objects to many people as a way of illustrating the reality of my
situation, but not many saw this as substantial proof of what I was saying, so the
project was a failure. After a few years the objects caused severe scarring in my
hand, enough that its function was impaired, and I planned a surgery to remove
them and repair the damage they had caused. I contacted Whitley Strieber's
research team to see if they were interested in the objects.

I never heard from Strieber on this matter, but did have an odd experience about
two weeks after I made the offer to him. I dreamed that night that I was standing in
what seemed to be the kitchen of the house in which I had grown up, except that on
all sides there were windows, and no other rooms in the house. A young woman with
dark hair, dark eyes, and a plump figure was there with me. I did not recognize her
but I knew she was someone of importance and part of my role here was to protect
her.

Outside, it seemed that storms were coming, but the sky was oddly clear. Dust devils
danced all around the building and a strong wind came up; something powerful was
building. I was trying to close all the windows against the coming storm but I was
running out of time. As I drew down the last one, a face appeared on the other side
of the pane. It was a humanoid face, gray skinned and wrinkled, the sort of being I
have seen only a few times--not the classic gray as shown on the cover of
Communion—that is a type I have never seen at all.

I struggled to get the last window closed while this being stared into my eyes, but the
effort became more and more difficult and my movements slowed and slowed. I was
very troubled about this, but the woman in the room with me was unconcerned. My
memory of the event ends before I completed the task.

Much later I woke up with a panicky feeling and the sense that something had
genuinely happened, but I had no memory of what it might be beyond the dream
that I vividly recalled. I seldom meet the grays--whenever I do, it's an experience I
dread and regret. They are not my favorite people and I'd prefer to have nothing to
do with them.

The next day at work I noticed that my hand had stopped hurting, where the
implants had caused the scarring, and when I checked to see what had happened, I
saw that both the implants were gone. The pockets of scar tissue were still there, and
I went ahead with surgery to remove them a few months later, but the objects that
had been within them had vanished. Strieber didn't want them, I suppose, but
somebody did.