Ouija Calling ET: Do You Copy?

By Gary Val Tenuta, Author of The Ezekiel Code (http://www.ezekielcode.com)

The following is a true story about a series of Ouija board sessions which began much like many Ouija stories, recounting tales of communication with the spirits of the dearly – and some not-so-dearly – departed souls. This story, however, took a most unexpected turn when a list of strange words began to appear and suddenly the three participants – of which this author was one – found themselves fully immersed in a series of communications with ETs. Not dead, dearly departed ETs, mind you. No. These ETs were quite alive and well – thank you - living on a planet called Grek-5 in a dimension they described as being “…in your future time.” Sound strange? Improbable? Impossible? Unbelievable? Or was it all something quite different than what it appeared to be? Decide for yourself.

Part-1: TWO SAILORS AND A WEIRD DREAM

It all began back in 1967. I was 21 years old. The place was the Servicemen’s

YMCA in Long Beach, California. I had just recently left my home in Seattle and arrived in Long Beach as a fresh-out-of-boot-camp-sailor, and had spent my first

lonely night aboard my new home away from home: the aircraft carrier, USS Yorktown. Long Beach was the homeport of this great, gray hunk of floating naval history and I was stuck there whether I liked it or not.

One afternoon I was granted liberty, which meant that I was free to leave the ship and I didn’t have to be back until 6 o’clock the next morning. I had been told there was a Servicemen’s YMCA in town and it was a good place to meet new friends. I was skeptical but I decided to try it. That’s where I met Tom.

As I look back on it now, it seems like one of those movies where the characters are destined to come together. Somehow, every little thing they’ve ever done in their lives has – without their knowledge – culminated in what they think at the time is just a chance meeting. Without going into the details of this chance meeting suffice to say the odd thing about it was the extraordinary number of things we had in common. It seemed a little weird. But just as weird was the dream Tom told me about. He’d had it just a month or so earlier.

"In the dream,” he said, “I was hiding behind some big rocks. I wasn’t alone. There were other people with me but I don’t really remember seeing any of them. I just knew there were others around me, somewhere. And we were shooting at dark skinned people who were riding past us on horseback. Suddenly someone yelled, ‘Look out! The (somethings) are coming!’” He paused for a moment. “I can’t remember what the word was. Anyway, I took off running across a field full of sharp jagged rocks that were sticking up out of the ground. They were about six or eight inches tall. And, while I was running, I tripped on one of the jagged rocks and when I fell, one of them pierced my shoulder. I remember looking down and seeing it sticking through my shoulder. Then it was like I fainted. I mean, I blacked out but it was weird, now that I think about it, because I was still dreaming. It’s like I was unconscious within my dream! When I came to, I was in some kind of a room that was sort of like a library. There was a young woman standing there putting something on a shelf. She turned and looked at me and for some reason I thought I was dead and I said, ‘Do a lot of dead people from earth come here?’ She smiled and said, ‘Sometimes’. Then she told me her name was Randessa and the last thing I remember, I was holding her in my arms and we were kissing! I’ve never told anyone about this dream before. I had it about a month or two ago and I can’t forget it because it wasn’t like any dream I’ve ever had before. It was so intense. It was like it really happened.”

That’s how Tom related his dream to me. We had no idea at the time how this strange dream would come up again in the near future and how it would play a major role in the experiences that were waiting for us down the road.

After that first meeting we got together whenever we could and within a couple

of weeks you’d have thought we were brothers. And, in a sense, we were; brothers of the heart, brothers of the spirit; soul brothers, I guess some might say. We shared a deep interest in things philosophical and we were both very much drawn to the teachings of Jesus. However, we also shared a sense that most organized religion had it all wrong. Exactly what it was they had wrong we

weren’t sure, but we were on a quest for the Truth (whatever that was) and we knew we weren’t going to find it in the church. The spiritual bond between us grew ever stronger as our conversations delved ever deeper into philosophy, religion, reincarnation, ESP, and the like.

I remember one night at the “Y”, when one of these conversations lasted way

into the wee hours. We were sitting in the locker room and it must have been around three o’clock in the morning. We had been in there for at least an hour, sitting on a bench near the door. It was the only door into or out of the locker room. We were into a heavy conversation about the Bible and in all that time we never saw a single person come in or go out and there was never a sound to indicate the presence of any other person. Mostly the conversation centered around the life and teachings of Jesus and for some reason we had just mentioned that phrase which says something about being visited by angels, unawares. In other words, sometimes a person might be visited by an angel disguised in the form of a human and not realize that it was an angel at all. At that moment, a young man in a Navy uniform comes walking past the end of the row of lockers, as if out of nowhere. He walks toward the door, stops, turns toward us and says, “You were talking about Jesus”.

Tom snickered. “Yeah, so?”

To which the guy replies, “That’s a good subject.”

Tom says, “Yeah. Sometimes.” Then the guy says, “Shalom,” and walks out the door.

Tom and I just sat there looking at each other. It was weird. We both had the

feeling that if we opened the door, we wouldn’t see hide nor hair of that young sailor. I think the reason we didn’t go look for him is because we didn’t really want to know! Were we visited by an angel, unawares? We don’t know. But maybe that’s the point. However, that’s just a little sidebar to illustrate the direction things were heading.

Two things happened next that were crucial to the unfolding of the story. One

was that I made a brief trip back to Seattle to marry my fiancé, Edie. The other was that, during my brief stay in Seattle, Tom had acquired a Ouija board from a friend whose parents came across it while cleaning out their attic.

When Edie and I returned to Long Beach we rented an apartment. One day Tom brought the Ouija board over and – while none of us had any experience with a Ouija board - that little apartment on Orange Street became the stage for a series of the most intriguing, bizarre, frightening, amusing, and generally fascinating events of our lives.

THE FIRST SESSIONS

It started out as just silliness. None of us had ever really tried a Ouija board before. We just knew that some people claimed the little plastic planchette would move around on the board and spell out messages. So we tried it, asking silly questions like, “Will I be rich?” Will Tom find a girlfriend?” “Do I have any long lost relatives who are really rich?” The planchette would move around slowly and awkwardly and would seem to go to the YES or the NO and sometimes it seemed like it was trying to spell out some words but we couldn’t be certain because sometimes it would stop between letters instead of directly over them. But that was only when Tom and I were doing it. It was a whole different ball game when Edie was one of the participants.

What I didn’t know at the time, but later discovered, was that Edie’s grandmother, on her fathers side, was also given to such things. Perhaps it went back for generations. I don’t know. But when Edie put her hands on the planchette, it just zipped along, letter by letter, spelling out stuff so fast that a third person had to be taking notes.

The letters, of course, all ran together with no separation between words. They

would seem to come in flurries and then stop, briefly. Then we would take a look at the string of letters that the third person had been jotting down and we would draw a line, separating out the words. For example: GOODEVENINGMYNAMEISANNALEEWRIGHT, becomes: GOOD / EVENING / MY / NAME / IS / ANNA / LEE /WRIGHT.

So who was Anna Lee Wright? In the nights to come, we found out and spoke to her several times. Anna Lee Wright informed us that she had lived in England in the 1400’s and was beheaded for adultery. That was a bit unnerving but then came the real shocker. Supposedly, Edie was Anna Lee’s current incarnation! Actually, though, that’s a bit of a misnomer. As I recall, we questioned the reincarnation idea and we were informed that it wasn’t really a case of reincarnation, as such, but some other kind of a connection. Anna Lee was not clear on the subject, almost as if she, herself, didn’t quite understand it. My impression, however, was that it was some kind of a parallel universe phenomenon. The gist of it was that we all have counterparts, for lack of a better term, in the past as well as in the future, and it’s all taking place at the same time but separated by dimensional barriers.

Tom and I were told of our own counterparts of that time. I don’t remember what our names were but I remember that Tom was a musician in the King’s court. It seems odd, but for some reason I don’t remember anything I was told about myself.

We were absolutely beside ourselves. I had an adrenaline rush that wouldn’t quit. Of course we had no idea what was really going on here. This was beyond anything any of us had ever imagined. But it was only the beginning. In the many days and nights that followed, we talked to so many different personalities that I can’t remember them all. Some were boring, some were humorous. One, I recall, was very scared: “WHERE IS MY MOTHER? HELP ME PLEASE! MY MOTHER! I CAN’T FIND MY MOTHER! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!”

The planchette moved almost frantically as it spelled out those words. Somehow we could sense the urgency of this cry for help. We tried asking questions to find out what was going on. It was a young girl. She was on an ocean liner and it was going down. That’s all we know because the communication stopped. It was a frustrating, helpless feeling. We sat back and wondered. Had we tapped into the sinking of the Titanic? We could only guess.

Then there were the visits from personalities more well-known; the poet,

Robert Frost, for example. This was a particularly interesting and somewhat

disturbing event – especially for Edie - as it apparently involved a full-blown bodily “possession”. And Edie’s body was the unwitting host. Part-2: Automatic Writing & The Invisible Visitors

Automatic Writing

We were seated around the dining room table; Tom on one side, Edie and I on the other. By this time we were old pros at this other world communication stuff. We had graduated to a means of communication known as automatic writing. Again, it was Edie, we discovered, who was able to do this. So when the Ouija board informed us that the late, great poet, Robert Frost, was with us, we decided to grab the ol’ pencil and paper. Now, you have to understand when Edie did this automatic writing it was not she who was doing the writing. Rather, it was someone or something else that was doing the writing through her. Or at least that’s the theory. But, while we had done this several times before, she had never entered into a trance state. She always seemed to be fully conscious during the session even though she felt exhausted afterwards. This time was different, although we didn’t realize it until the session was over.

The Poetry Man Cometh Edie put the pencil to the paper and began to write. It was remarkable. Poetry

flowed onto the paper in the recognizable style of Robert Frost. (We still were not sure how any of this was happening let alone what exactly was taking place during these unbelievable sessions. At the moment, we were supposedly witnessing the creation of never-before-seen poems by the late Robert Frost. Even more remarkable, each poem was signed! The next day, Tom took a copy of one of the signatures to the library and was able to locate a copy of Robert Frost’s actual autograph for comparison. He said they were very similar.) I was smoking a cigarette during this session and at one point Edie stopped writing and reached over and took the cigarette out of my hand.

“Do you mind?” she asked, directing the question to me. I was taken a bit by surprise, not because she took the cigarette, but because

she asked if I minded. As long as I had known her and as many times as she had taken drags off my cigarettes, not once had she ever asked me if I minded because she knew I didn’t.

She took a drag off the cigarette, handed it back to me and continued to write. We asked if this was really Robert Frost with whom we were communicating

and why had he come to us this night? Through Edie’s hand the answer was written. Yes, it said, it was indeed Robert Frost and he was there because, as he put it, “I enjoy your company”.

I don’t know how long this session went on, perhaps an hour, maybe longer. Finally, Mr. Frost said he had to leave now and he thanked us for allowing him to stay for that short time.

Edie laid the pencil on the table and I noticed she was starting to lean to the side, away from me. Before I realized what was happening, she was falling from her chair. I reached out to grab her but I was too late. I moved the chairs out of the way and knelt down beside her as she lay on the floor, apparently unconscious. I shook her gently and spoke her name. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find herself on the floor. Apparently she had been in a trance the entire time. She had no memory of having taken a drag off my cigarette and certainly no memory of asking me if I minded! She was only vaguely aware of having just written some poetry. The whole thing was straight out of the Twilight Zone. It was a night I’ll never forget. But there was more to come.

Who’s That Knocking At My Door? One night we were working the Ouija board by candle light which was

provided by one of those glass encased candles about three inches in diameter and about six or seven inches tall, about the size of a typical eight ounce drinking glass. The candle had burned down to a point where the flame was perhaps an inch below the ridge of the glass. The glass itself was a deep red and the flame within provided an eerie glow about the room. It was a perfect setting for a séance. I don’t remember what we were getting from the Ouija board, but it was working fine. All was well, and we were snacking on chips and having a good time when suddenly the board spelled out, HELL IS MY PALACE. I AM AT YOUR DOOR. LET ME IN.

Part-3: THE DEVIL YOU SAY

“HELL IS MY PALACE. I AM AT YOUR DOOR. LET ME IN.”

I remember those words verbatim. It was as if some entity had simply pushed its way, uninvited, into our little party. There was an immediate change to the whole ambiance of the room. I was actually more intrigued than frightened and I told Tom and Edie that I was going to go over to the door and open it. They didn’t know if that was such a good idea, but I did it anyway. When I returned to the table I put my hands on the planchette and Edie did the same. I was curious to see what would happen next.

We sat tense, poised, waiting in anticipation for the planchette to move. The room seemed heavy with a presence we could not see. Then, shockingly, the glass around the candle popped and shattered! It scared the holy hell out of all of us!

Always the skeptic, I immediately analyzed the situation. Ok, I thought, if this really was the Devil or Satan or Mr. Evil Guy Of The Universe, or whatever, it would be able to go anywhere it wanted to go, including our living room, and it wouldn’t need someone to open the door. I think I was hoping to somehow satisfy myself with this line of reasoning but in the back of my mind another explanation

was gaining ground.

The opening of the door was symbolic. It was a gesture of blatant invitation. “Hey, hi! Come on in!” I opened the door out of sheer curiosity and now that one simple act was about to ruin our entire night. The Ouija board spelled out a disturbing message:

YOU MUST LEAVE. YOU MUST TAKE THE DOG AND LEAVE THIS PLACE FOR A BATTLE BETWEEN THE FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL IS ABOUT TO BEGIN IN THIS ROOM. GO NOW. FIND A CHURCH AND WAIT UNTIL IT IS SAFE TO RETURN.

I realize it seems bizarre that we could take this seriously but, as the saying goes, you had to be there. We really didn’t want to leave. It was winter. It was cold outside. It was the middle of the night, and we didn’t have a car.

We debated the situation amongst ourselves realizing, on the one hand, how silly it would seem to actually bundle up and leave in the middle of the night, packing a baby cocker spaniel, and go wandering the streets of Long Beach looking for a church, all because a Ouija board told us to. On the other hand, the Ouija board did spell out HELL IS MY PALACE. I AM AT YOUR DOOR. LET ME IN. I did open the door. It did seem as if we felt a heavy presence in the room and the candle did pop and shatter onto the table. Taking all of that into consideration, we decided to err on the side of caution. We put on our coats, gathered up the dog, packed up the Ouija board and left.

If it had been any place and time other than southern California in the late 60’s, we would have been a pretty weird spectacle. However, weird was the norm at that time and place, so if anyone had seen us and asked what we were doing they probably would have nodded their heads knowingly and said, “Wow. Groovy.” and continued on their way. Fortunately no one saw us. There didn’t seem to be another soul around anywhere. Why would there be? It was dark, it was cold, it was late and anyone in their right mind was inside, keeping warm, and doing… well, anything but what we were doing.

We walked around the streets for awhile wondering what the hell we were doing and keeping an eye out for a church. We finally found one but the doors were locked.

Shivering from the cold, I shrugged. “I guess God closes at six. What’ll we do now?”

We decided to try the Ouija board. It was sort of like making a phone call to see if it was ok to come home yet. So, sitting on some porch steps by the light of a street lamp in the chill of the cold winter night, we phoned home on the Ouija board.

We were told it was not yet safe to return. Swell. Now what? We were cold and tired and we wanted to get into some place warm. Then we had a brilliant

idea. The Service Men’s YMCA was open twenty-four hours a day. So we headed off to the Y.

When we got there we found Clovis, the head of the organization, and Rich, his assistant. They were working late on some project. Clovis was one of those rare individuals who leaves a lasting, positive impression on nearly everyone fortunate enough to come into contact with him. He had a gift of inspiring people to reach goals they never dreamed possible. As we walked in he looked up from his desk.

“What the heck are you guys doing here at this time of night?” he asked, quite surprised.

“Um,” I started. “It’s a little difficult to explain.”

“Okay,” he said. He sat back and waited for me to gather my thoughts.

“Well, remember we told you about this Ouija board that Kelli gave Tom?”

“Oh, man.” He replied, rolling his eyes. He knew he was in for a real humdinger. “Okay. Go ahead.”

So we gathered around his desk and proceeded to tell him the story.

As was customary for Clovis, he listened attentively. In the end, though, he didn’t really know quite what to say. I remember a short discussion about the forces of good and evil, the reality or perceived reality of such concepts, and so on. Finally, we decided to give him a demonstration of Ouija board communication. I was afraid it wouldn’t work and then we’d look really silly. Fortunately it did work and, like the perfect ending to a good movie, it told us the battle was over and it was safe for us to return home.

Part-4: RETURNING TO THE SCENE OF THE BATTLE

The walk home took about twenty minutes. As we walked we wondered what we would find when we got there. I had visions of the whole apartment looking like it had been ravaged by a tornado. That would be the ultimate proof that something, indeed, had taken place.

By the time we reached the apartment it must have been three or four o’clock in the morning. The three of us, and our faithful canine companion, gazed upward toward the door of our second-floor apartment. We looked at each other and laughed nervously as we slowly climbed the stairs. The suspense was building with each step we took.

“Well. Are you ready?” I asked as I slipped the key into the latch.

I pushed the door wide open and we stood there staring into the living room.

My visions of mass destruction vanished like waking up from a bad dream. We walked inside and looked around and laughed. There was nothing different than when we vacated in a panic several hours earlier. There was a sense of relief and some disappointment at the same time.

Had anything happened at all? Was any of this... any of this... for real? Or had we simply let our imaginations get the better of us? Today I ask myself, if I had it to do over again, knowing how it turned out last time, would I leave the apartment or stay to see what would happen? I really don’t know. All I can say is - as insane as it may sound now - it seemed like the only sane thing to do at the time.

GREK-5: THE ALIEN CONTACT

It was early evening, some weeks later, and Edie was napping on the couch. Tom and I were sitting at the dining room table trying to get the Ouija board to do something. It moved around, almost reluctantly, stopping at a letter here and there, but as usual, for Tom and me, it wasn’t cooperating very well. We were about to give up on it, when suddenly it began to move more deliberately. It spelled out a word: SPECTOR. Then it paused a moment and spelled out another word: MIND. Again, a momentary pause and then a third word: YOU. Pause. EARTH. Pause. Then it did something different. It spelled out: GREK 5 using a very deliberate motion. It spelled the letters G-R-E-K as it normally would. That is, the heart shaped planchette moved in a graceful circular motion as it went from letter to letter. Then, in a very deliberate and abrupt manner, it moved to the center of the board and turned so that the tip of it pointed toward the bottom of the board. The numbers 1 through 0 are printed along the bottom edge of the board. The planchette poised itself at the center of the board and then moved in a straight line directly down to the 5 where it paused again. At this point, we took our hands off the planchette, sat back and lit up a cigarette. We both were a little astounded simply by the fact that the thing was actually working for us. It was usually such a tedious struggle for Tom and I to get it to do much of anything. Tom looked at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re not going to believe this.” he said.

“What? What is it?” I prodded.

He shook his head as if to deny to himself whatever it was he had just realized.

“What?” I asked again.

“I think I know what that is.” He paused. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”

“What what is? What’re you talking about?”

“Grek. That was the word in my dream.”

“What dream?”

“Remember, I told you about that dream I had about hiding behind some big rocks and we were shooting at people riding by on horseback?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember. So, what are you getting at?”

“Remember, in the dream I yelled, ‘Look out! The somethings are coming!’ but I couldn’t remember what the word was?”

“Yeah.”

“It was the Greks! ‘Look out! The Greks are coming!’ “ He was serious but then he laughed as he realized how crazy it sounded.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, not yet sure that he wasn’t just pulling my leg.

Still realizing how insane it sounded, he insisted that was the word he hadn’t been able to remember. “I’m serious!” he said. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what the voice shouted out in my dream.”

He convinced me. I knew Tom well enough to know when he was kidding around and when he wasn’t. He wasn’t kidding.

“Okay. Well let’s try it again.” I said, anxious to see what would happen. “Ask if that was the word that was in your dream.”

“You ask it!” he said.

I laughed. “Okay,” I said.

We put our fingertips lightly on the planchette. I asked the question aloud. “Is Grek the word that Tom heard in the dream he told me about?”

The planchette began to move. I anticipated that it would go to the YES which is printed in the upper left corner of the board, or to the NO which is in the opposite corner.

We were surprised, however, when it spelled out: SPECTOR. Then it paused and spelled out: MIND.

We looked at each other. This was familiar.

Then it spelled: YOU, and then: EARTH, and then: GREK. Then, as before, it went to the center of the board, turned, in a very deliberate manner so that it was pointed toward the bottom of the board, and moved straight down to the 5.

We were puzzled. I asked again, “Is Grek the word that was in Tom’s dream?”

The planchette continued to move now in it’s usual circular motion. It spelled out another word: SPECTOR-1. When it went to the 1, it did not use the same

kind of rigid, deliberate motion as when it went to the 5. It simply moved in the normal manner.

Then another word: GOD. And it continued, pausing after each word:

TIME. LOVE. PAX. SPECTOR 11. XESTAO. GOD-9. FIRSON. LASON. HABITON. KNOWLEDGE. BABION. DIX.

None of this made any sense to either of us.

“Are these words supposed to mean something to us?” I asked.

Again the planchette responded:

SPECTOR. MIND. YOU. EARTH. GREK-5. SPECTOR-1. GOD. TIME. LOVE. PAX. SPECTOR-11. XESTAO. GOD-9. FIRSON. LASON. HABITON. KNOWLEDGE. BABION. DIX.

We wrote the words down and tried again. The result was the same; the exact same words in the exact same order. We organized them in the form of a list in the order in which they came. It seemed like a puzzle of some kind; nineteen words, always in the same order. Some were in English and some were not but we didn’t know what they were.

We took up the challenge, trying to make some sense of this puzzle. We woke Edie from her nap and told her what had been happening. We showed her the list of nineteen words and the three of us tried to see what we could make of it. We noticed that some of the words looked almost like Latin. Tom was pretty sure, for example, that PAX was Latin for the word “peace”. We also noted that the eighth word on the list was TIME and that the figure 8 is a symbol for eternity. The thirteenth word, GOD-9, was interesting in that the 9th word was LOVE, making it reminiscent of the concept that God is Love.

The more we examined the puzzle, the more we saw. Or were we just reading things into it? For instance, the seventh word was GOD. The number seven is considered a holy number. GREK-5 was, appropriately enough, the fifth word. Still, what did it all mean, if anything?

(At this point, I want to inform the reader that this is not an entirely accurate recounting of the nineteen words as they were presented to us. The words we are uncertain of are numbers 14, 15, and 17. Regarding numbers 14 and 15, Tom seems to have some recollection of them being something like “food” and “shelter”, or some words representing those concepts. On the other hand, he does agree with me that the words FIRSON and LASON were, indeed, given to us at some point during this “vocabulary” session. At the same time, I also recall the “food” and “shelter” discussion, but cannot recall how they fit into the list, if at all. Regarding the word, KNOWLEDGE, we’re sure it is in the correct place on the list, but we cannot recall the actual “Grek word” which was used to represent that concept.)

After about three hours we had exhausted our collective wits. Finally, someone suggested we try the board again. This time Edie and I put our hands on the planchette. It began to move the instant we touched it. We didn’t even have a chance to ask a question. It simply said:

WELCOME SPECTORS. YOU HAVE PASSED THE TEST.

Part-5: I AM GURO SPECTOR

We all looked at each other in amazement.

“Who are we communicating with?” we asked.

“I AM GURO SPECTOR.”

“What did you mean, we had passed the test? What test?”

“IT WAS IMPORTANT TO TEST YOUR LEVEL OF INTEREST AND INTELLECTUAL ENDURANCE.”

“What are you? Are you a spirit?”

“NO. WE EXIST ON A PHYSICAL PLANE.”

“But where are you? What are you?”

“WE ARE ON THE FIFTH PLANET FROM THE SUN IN OUR SYSTEM. OUR PLANET IS CALLED GREK. WE ARE LIVING BEINGS BUT WE ARE IN A DIFFERENT DIMENSION.”

“You mean like a fourth dimension?”

“WE ARE IN YOUR FUTURE TIME.”

“Is Grek the word that Tom heard in his dream?”

“YES. WE BROUGHT TOM HERE BY WHAT YOU CALL

TELEPORTATION. HIS DREAM WAS HIS BRAIN'S WAY OF REACTING TO THE EXPERIENCE.”

“You mean you actually took him? Physically?”

“YES.”

I don't know what Tom was feeling at that moment but he certainly wasn't ready for what we learned next.

Tom asked, “What about the young woman at the end of my dream? Was she real?”

“YES. HER NAME IS RANDESSA. SHE IS PREGNANT WITH YOUR CHILD.”

Tom nearly fell on the floor. We were all stunned at the thought of such a possibility. Reports of abductions by aliens have become almost commonplace in UFO literature today. At the time, however, it was a very unusual concept to deal with. There have, over the years, been a number of reports where people claim to have been abducted aboard a UFO and enticed, if not forced, to engage in sexual intercourse with a being of the opposite sex. In most of these cases the other being was of an alien race but had very humanlike features. Some abductees also claim to have seen the offspring of such intimate encounters. Current consensus is that the aliens are engaging in some type of genetic experimentation and, indeed, we were told that was the purpose of Tom's encounter.

Tom's abduction was an incredible revelation with an irony that didn’t escape our attention. Here they were, talking about a technology as advanced as teleportation and there we were, using something as archaic as a Ouija Board for communication!

“How is it that you are communicating with us using this board?” I asked.

As a reply the planchette simply moved down to the number 2 at the bottom of the board. We asked again and once more it simply went to the number “2”.

“What kind of an answer is that?” we asked each other. Then we noticed that the second word on the list was MIND. Was this another test?

“Is the 2 a reference to the second word on the list of nineteen words?”

“YES.”

“Mind? You’re communicating with us by moving this planchette with your mind?”

“IT IS SOMETHING LIKE THAT.”

“Can you actually see this board?”

“IT IS NOT SEEING AS YOU KNOW IT. IT IS WITH THE MIND.”

Then I had an idea. “Could you communicate through Edie’s hand if she held a pencil to the paper?

“YES. IT IS PREFERRED.”

We immediately got some paper and a pencil. Edie put the pencil to the paper and I asked, “Are you still with us?”

Her hand began to move very slowly, almost as if someone were trying to get a “feel” for this new body. Slowly she wrote, “YES”.

“Is it easier to communicate this way?” I asked.

“YES. THIS IS PREFERRED.”

I was still curious about their physical location. “Can you explain to us where your planet is?”

Almost immediately Edie’s hand began to move in a circular motion as if to begin drawing. Sure enough, she drew a circle about the size of a half dollar. The following drawing is an accurate representation of the drawing made by “Guro Spector” through Edie’s hand. The figure 8 between the two circles represented a time barrier of sorts.

Guro Spector explained that once there was a single planet that was struck by a “LUNAR FORCE AND A SOLAR FORCE” simultaneously. The planet was split in two by the impact. One piece of the planet was jettisoned forward in time through a dimensional barrier of some sort. That planet is Grek-5, or “EARTH 2”, as Guro Spector labeled it in the drawing. I didn’t understand for sure if this explanation was to be taken symbolically or literally.1 I would have taken it to be literal except that some things we were told by Guro Spector, in subsequent communications, made me wonder if, perhaps, they were our direct descendants. Were we communicating with future earth?

In an attempt to get a some sort of a fix on this location-in-space-and-time thing, I asked, “If you exist, physically, on a physical planet, then it would be possible for us to visit your planet if we had some means of traveling the required distance, right?”

“YOU WILL COME TO OUR PLANET.”

“We will? When?”

“YOU CAN COME NOW.”

I was definitely having a heavy duty adrenaline rush. The three of us were having pretty much the same reaction which, most notably, consisted of raised

eyebrows.

“Now? We can’t go to your planet now. We would need a ship of some kind. We don’t have such a thing.”

“YOU CAN MAKE ONE.”

We laughed. “Make one? How can we make one? That’s just not possible!”

“2.”

Oh, no. Not that again. What’s this “2” business? You mean with our minds? We’re supposed to build a space ship with our minds?”

“YES.”

Part-6: The Ship

We tried to get across the idea that we didn’t understand how to build a ship with our minds and Guro Spector insisted that was what we needed to do. Eventually he said someday we would understand how to do this. In fact, many people would know how to do this.2 He said there would come a time when there would be great devastation upon the earth but many people would escape in giant spaceships. He said they would take with them domestic animals and plantlife of various types for growing food. These people would then return to the earth following the devastation, to begin a new civilization.

I thought, wow, Noah’s ark twentieth-century style. If it had happened before, I guess it could happen again. But there was an interesting sidelight to this little scenario.

Guro Spector said there would be a “WAR IN SPACE”, because these ships would be from all different countries and some would carry with them political baggage they should have left behind. To quote Guro Spector:

“NOT ALL WHO LEAVE WILL RETURN.”

When we asked what the ships would look like, Edie’s hand began to move in a circular motion as if to begin drawing another circle. But her hand began to move in an arc that was larger than the letter size paper we had on the table.

As her hand moved in an ever increasing arc, it began knocking things off the table. She was, in fact drawing on the table!

“Hold it! Hold it!” I said, laughing. I grabbed her hand. “Wait a minute. I’ll get something larger to draw on.”

I went into the bedroom and got a large piece of white construction board, a

kind of stiff cardboard used by artists for drawing and painting. It was about 18" by 20". I brought it out into the living room and put it on the floor in the middle of the room. A few days earlier, I had started to draw a cartoon face on one side of the board. The cartoon featured an unusually large nose on the character for comic effect. Now, I laid the board on the floor with that side down and the clean side up. Then, sitting on the floor, we gathered around the board.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s try this.”

Edie had a ballpoint pen now and she placed the point of the pen on the board. But instead of drawing something, her hand went to the edge of the board, sliding the pen just under the edge trying to flip the board up as if wanting to turn it over. So I helped by flipping the board over, exposing the cartoon face I had drawn on the other side. Edie’s hand went directly to the nose on the cartoon and poked at it a few times, almost as if contemplating something. Then her hand moved up to my face and began poking the pen at my nose! We sensed the question being asked.

We laughed and tried to explain the idea of exaggerating facial features on cartoons for the sake of humor. It was an odd little bit of comic relief in the middle of this bizarre evening full of dire predictions of doom for the entire planet.

I turned the board back over to reveal the blank side and Edie put the pen in position to write. Her hand moved around in sweeping circular motions without the pen touching the surface of the board. It was as if our alien guest was somehow surveying the area where he was about to draw. Suddenly her hand brought the pen down somewhat forcefully onto the construction board and made a dot. The force was such that it made a slight indentation. Then she made another dot in the same manner. Then another and another.

This continued in what appeared to be a random and increasingly rapid manner until, after perhaps two or three minutes, there must have been hundreds of little dots all over the board.

We had no idea what was going on. Then her hand made that sweeping, surveying motion again and brought the pen down to one of the dots. She then began to connect the dots by drawing a line from one dot to another. Gradually a shape began to emerge.

First there was a large circle. It must have been about seventeen inches in diameter as it filled most of the space on the board. I remember being amazed at how nearly perfect the circle was. Then, still connecting dots, she drew a smaller circle, about one inch in diameter, in the center of the larger circle. A third circle, perhaps fifteen inches in diameter, was drawn within the largest circle, again by connecting dots. The drawing shown here gives you a general idea of what the actual final drawing looked like. It is, however, by no means accurate in regard to the exact shapes of the various compartments or in regard to the number of

compartments or even their relative placements or configurations. I present this rendering merely to give the you some sense of the kind of thing we were looking at. It is impossible, after these many years, to recall such details completely. What had been laid out before us was a cutaway, aerial view of a disk shaped spaceship or what we typically call a flying saucer.

Edie’s hand, guided by Guro Spector, began to label all of the different sections of the ship.

He first labeled the three perimeter sections as DEATH COMPACTS. As is shown here, there were three small circles in each “death compact” and these were labeled ATOMIC PILES. There was also an indication of the temperature within these “death compacts”. I believe it was a Fahrenheit temperature of 100,000 degrees.

The interior of the ship provided for everything any human being could ever need to survive in absolute comfort for a very long time. I don’t recall how many levels there were, but each level was accessed by an elevator which ran up and down, directly in the center of the ship.

There was a place for all the domestic animals. There was a huge area for growing plants and vegetables. There were music rooms, swimming pools, theaters, and on and on. I don't remember the occupant capacity of the ship; it may have been in the hundreds or possibly even a thousand or more.

When the drawing was completed (I think it must have taken an hour or so) we sat back and marveled at the complexity and comprehensiveness of the thing. We were told there were others around the world who also had such drawings and with whom they had been in contact and shared much of the same information. So, we were told, we were not alone in our experience.

By now it was well into the wee hours of the morning and we were exhausted. I don't remember how we ended that first long night of other-worldly communication with our new found space brother, Guro Spector, but it may have been Guro, himself, who brought the session to an end. Sometimes it worked that way, with them saying something like,

“YOU MUST REST NOW. SONA.”

SONA was a sort of salutation which meant something like, “go in peace”. They ended every communication with that word and the style of the letters was always the same. In fact, much of the writing that came through Edie's hand from the Grek-5 source, had the same stylized lettering:

And so ended our first of many evenings with the beings from Grek-5.

Part-7: THE CONCLUSION: More Bad Sci-Fi

I wish I had set up a tape recorder during those sessions. So much of what was communicated to us has been forgotten. Of course, back in those days (remember this was in the 1960's) we didn't have the convenience of cassette tapes and small portable tape recorders. Those were the days of thirty pound tape machines the size of a suitcase andthe recording tape, which had to be threaded through a maze of little wheels and spindles, was a quarter of an inch wide and came wrapped around seven-inch plastic reels.

I know those uncountable, sometimes exhausting, hours spent in communication with the beings from Grek-5 produced some fascinating conversation. Sometimes they imparted bits of wisdom. I recall one instance when we were curious about the method of communication we were experiencing.

It was very early in the morning after a long night full of mind boggling channeled information about the future of humankind and such and I guess we were getting a little giddy from lack of sleep and mental overload. It occurred to us that if they could actually see our future, we were in a position to do some astounding things; like making “predictions” and having them come true to the amazement of all our friends! Hey, we could make a fortune at the horse races!

At that moment we heard a siren outside. It was probably a fire engine. It was a perfect test. We would ask them to tell us what the siren was. Was it a fire engine? Where was it going? What kind of an emergency was it involved in? Then, once they told us, we could go check it out. So we put our hands on the Ouija board and asked. The answer, which was really an admonishment, was profound in its simplicity:

“SPECTORS, THROW AWAY THIS TOY AND LIVE YOUR EXISTENCE.”

The message was clear. They had not come to us so we could profit from the experience by increasing either our egos or our bank accounts. But, hey, we were twenty-year-old kids with a tremendous need for sleep and we probably hadn't eaten anything more nutritious than a couple bags of corn chips and a six-pack of Pepsi since dinner the previous evening. Somehow I think they realized that.

There are snippets of information from those all-night “conversations” that stand out in my memory. I remember one night we asked a question regarding some aspect of science and Guro Spector said we should speak with Lanzar. Lanzar, evidently, was the “Bill Nye, The Science Guy” of Grek-5. (I should mention at this point, as a confession of sorts, that one of the things which has always made me suspicious of so many alleged channeled writings is the names of some of the so-called entities which are being channeled; for example,“Kryon” or the popular “Ashtar” of the so-called Ashtar Command. These sound like names of characters in some low budget science fiction movie from the 1950s. However, the name Lanzar strikes me in exactly the same way. So I try not to discount the credibility of other channeled material simply because the name of the entity being channeled sounds like it was borrowed from a low budget sci-fi flick. This point arises again, years later, when I discover evidence that these odd names are somehow linked to three things: a mysterious cipher, Aleister Crowley, and the UFO phenomenon. See Alan Greenfield’s book, Secret Cipher of the UFOnauts.). The question to Lanzar, as I recall, had to do with the problems of space travel over distances of light years.

This led us into a discussion of Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Maybe the reason I don't remember anything about the discussion is because I didn't understand any of it, but I do remember one thing that astonished me. Lanzar told us that Einstein was living with them on their planet. I remember inquiring about how that could be, considering that Einstein was dead. The answer was something like “the essence of the being you knew as Einstein now lives and works among us in our scientific community”.

THE END IS NEAR

At this point you might well ask, “Ok. If most of this information came to you in the form of automatic writing and if you wrote down all of the communication

that came through the Ouija board, and you had that drawing of the space ship... where is it?”

This is the part of my story I always hate to tell because I feel like it throws all credibility out the window. I have nothing to show. The story ends like another bad science fiction film. Nevertheless, this is how the drama concluded:

When I was discharged from the Navy, Edie and I decided to move back to Seattle. Her mother and father came down to Long Beach to help us pack up for the move.

The day we finally had everything ready, the weather was warm and sunny. We had organized everything quite well. We packed all we could into boxes and we numbered each box with a wide felt-tip pen. There were about two dozen boxes as I recall. We had a checklist with each box number and an itemized list of what was in each box. Then we set all the boxes outside the front door and sat back while we waited for the moving van to arrive.

When the truck arrived we got out the checklist and checked off each box as it went into the truck. There was just one problem. The box which contained all of the written material and the diagram of the spaceship, as well as a couple of my paintings (I used to paint quite a bit in those days) was gone. It was the only box that was missing.

When we arrived in Seattle, I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to know what happened to that box. We got out the Ouija board and attempted to make contact with our friends on Grek-5.

We did make contact and I asked if they knew what happened to the box containing all of our written material. I guess I thought they were going to tell me they didn't know or that somebody came along and stole it, or something like that. I certainly hadn't anticipated the answer we got.

Guro Spector said they had taken it by means of what we know of as teleportation. In Star Trek terminology, they “beamed it up”.

I asked why and was told the material contained information that they didn't want others to know about at that time. We were never told, however, that we couldn't talk about the experience as we remembered it. (I've always wondered if there were things we had written down that we were somehow made to forget.) Then it occurred to me that some of my artwork had been in that box.

“Do you mean my paintings are there on your planet?” I asked.

The reply was something like, “Yes, we are enjoying them”.

Then the curtain came down on this strange drama with these final words:

THIS IS THE LAST COMMUNICATION WE WILL HAVE. NO LOVE LOST FOR YOU SPECTORS. SONA.

That was it. The end. We tried to contact them a couple more times but we were not successful.

So there you have the story. Of course the question has to be asked, "What was really happening there?" The experience presented itself as communication from an extraterrestrial source. Was that, in fact, the case? Or was it a matter of our collective minds unconsciously creating the phenomenon? If the latter is the case, then what is the mechanism by which this could occur? Or is it not a matter of either/or but rather a little of each?

AFTERMATH

A lot has happened since then. Edie and I divorced in 1971. She is now remarried and has become a devout fundamentalist Christian. Tom has been married, divorced and married again. He now lives in the eastern part of the United States and is working in the advertising business. I married again and was divorced again. I'm now a book cover designer and freelance writer living and working in the Seattle area. My debut novel, The Ezekiel Code, is doing well (www.ezekielcode.com) and I’m working on my next one, Ash: Return Of The Beast (Video trailer: http://bit.ly/bjsmAl).

NOTES:

1. In 1993 I was introduced to a series of books known as THE EARTH CHRONICLES by Zecharia Sitchen. These books reveal a story about the beginnings of this planet and human creation which is radically different than anything we are taught in school or in our churches. The information is gleaned from many years of painstaking research into the writings of ancient Sumeria. Of particular interest, here, is the fact that the ancient Sumerian writings tell a story regarding the formation of the planet earth which is remarkably similar to the story described to us by Guro Spector, albeit much more involved. Perhaps this is simply coincidence. On the other hand, maybe Guro Spector was imparting to us the story as it has passed down to them just as the Sumerians told the story in the version as it was passed down to the people of their time. In which case, while neither story may be entirely correct, both may stem from the same actual event. In any case, it's an interesting bit of synchronicity.

2. Regarding the idea of building a spaceship with the mind, there is an ancient concept known as the Merkaba. In essence, the idea is this: through the proper use of the mind in a certain meditative state, one can create around oneself an energy field which, among other things, can be used as a vehicle to move one through time and space. The concept, some believe, was introduced to ancient earth civilizations from extraterrestrial beings. Again, is it just coincidence or is it related to what Guro Spector was suggesting; that we could create a spaceship with our minds?

3. In reference to the idea of "2" as "mind", I discovered something quite similar in the Glossary section of J. J. Hurtak's book, The Book Of Knowledge: The Keys Of Enoch. The Glossary entry reads:

Mind-2 - A second world of consciousness development, preceding the world of physical form. A second world of 'advanced intelligence', as an Overself governor connecting the planetary mind-body complex with the functions of the Universal Mind. Mind-2 works considerably faster than mind-1 and interconnects with numerous entities, within the greater universe.

It’s interesting to note Hurtak's book was published in 1977, ten years after our Grek-5 experience. Hurtak claims the information related in his 560-page book was given to him by a being who appeared to him while he was in the act of prayer. This being, he says, glowed with divine light and announced that he was Master Ophanim Enoch. Enoch then took Hurtak on a physical journey to the various star systems within our galaxy.

I found this mention of the Mind-2 concept in Hurtak’s book to be either extremely coincidental or significantly synchronistic. Take your pick.

© 2011, Gary Val Tenuta

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