by Mark Frost
A lot of it seems inspired—i.e., lifted—from the Book of Revelation, which also strikes me as impenetrable gobbledygook. On the one hand Crowley’s kind of fascinating—upper-crust Englishman, iconoclast, mountain climber, author, first Westerner to spend time studying with lamas in Tibet—and on the other he’s like a sick, perverted Bond villain. They didn’t call him “the most evil person in the world” for nothing—TP
7 Confirmed. Hubbard soon married Sara “Betty” Northrup, before officially divorcing his first wife, adding polygamy to his checkered résumé. And in 1950 he published his greatest success, Dianetics, the book that became the basis of his own “religion,” one that clearly borrowed multiple ideas and themes from Thelema—TP
8 Zeta Reticuli is a binary star system in the constellation of Reticulum, visible to the naked eye in the Southern Hemisphere. Often cited, in UFO “literature,” as the home to a race of small gray aliens who allegedly visit Earth—TP
9 I believe Milford missed Parsons’s reference here to “Sirius,” a star in the relatively nearby constellation Canis Major or “Big Dog.” Often referred to in UFO lore as another possible source of visiting alien life. This recalls the two competing races of aliens mentioned earlier in the Ray Palmer magazine stories—TP
10 In a letter I’ve found that Aleister Crowley wrote to Parsons after he assumed leadership of Thelema’s Pasadena “lodge,” he tells Parsons that he had “researched” Hell Gate—he doesn’t specify how—and concluded that it was one of seven gateways on the planet to hell and encouraged him to “make use of it.” Make of that what you will—TP
11 I have to concede that even for the ravings of a madman that’s a little ominous—TP
12 “The goddess Babalon” is a reference to a figure borrowed and reinterpreted by Crowley from the Book of Revelation, the odd appendage to the New Testament that was added hundreds of years after the Bible’s traditional structure had been widely adopted. It is apocalyptic in both rhetoric and content, although an ongoing debate about whether it was intended as a literal or metaphorical document continues to this day—TP
13 The timing of which could explain Hubbard’s sudden urge to “testify” to Congressman Nixon—TP
14 After reviewing Hubbard’s oeuvre, I can go further than that. His “origin story” of ancient aliens—beings he called Thetans—colonizing earth in deep underground cities beneath volcanoes seems to owe a lot to Richard Shaver’s wild stories of the subterranean “Lemurians”—TP
15 Marjorie Cameron, Parsons’s second wife—TP
16 He seems to be suggesting that Parsons’s ritual somehow “opened a gate” that resulted in aliens showing up in Roswell. I’m not endorsing this jibber-jabber as fact, but I have done my own research now into the Arroyo Seco. The Native Americans who lived here were in fact wary of the place, and did call it the Hell Gate, claiming they could “hear the devil’s laughter in the waterfall.”
And, call it coincidence if you like, but in the decade after Parsons worked his voodoo here, four children went missing in the Arroyo Seco. Two were killed by a construction worker who’d helped build a nearby freeway. He claimed he’d heard voices that compelled him to do it and later took his own life in prison. The third and fourth victims simply disappeared without a trace and were never found. It’s late, it’s dark, and I’m now turning all the lights on in my office—TP
17 Just a theory, but authorities probably leaned on Parsons to name names by threatening to publicly reveal that America’s number-one rocket man had been using Satanic “sex magick” to try and “incarnate the living embodiment of an ancient being called the Moonchild.” Parsons’s career was ruined, but at least he avoided jail—TP
18 The document on the following page is verified. Parsons’s wife later confirmed they were about to permanently relocate to Mexico—TP
*** LOS ANGELES TIMES JUNE 18, 1952
ARCHIVIST’S NOTE
Milford did not delve into this, but a closer examination of Parsons’s mysterious death is in order. Police quickly concluded that he died in an accident as a result of a mishap, caused by his mishandling of a deadly and highly volatile explosive called “fulminate of mercury,” traces of which were found among the wreckage in a shattered coffee can. They presumed he’d been mixing the substance for use in the unspecified pyrotechnic he was creating, when the canister slipped from his hands, exploding the moment it made impact with the ground.
The blast atomized his right arm, no trace of which was found, broke both his legs, caused massive internal injuries and destroyed the right side of his face, suggesting that he reached down to catch the can when it dropped before it hit the floor.
Parsons was, improbably, still alive when his upstairs tenants found him, but his injuries made it impossible for him to speak. The tenants later admitted that, before police arrived, they disposed of hypodermic needles they found nearby. After police left, in the back room--which the explosion made inaccessible by collapsing a wall--they painted over the devil’s head to protect their friend’s already tattered reputation.
Too little, too late. In the days after the explosion, newspapers focused more and more on the shocking aspects of Parsons’s personal life--“Satanist,” “leader of free-love cult,” “black magician” and of course the Crowley connection. The public perception that resulted reached the tabloid conclusion that Parsons--magician and scientist, like Icarus--met a fate he deserved by pursuing dark arts that mocked and jeered at the values of civilized society. This lurid version of his story won the day; Parsons has subsequently been either written out of or marginalized in the history of the institution he cofounded, JPL--now a respected, conservative pillar of the American scientific and military community, and a central player in America’s space program--which Parsons’s pioneering work did so much to advance.
In the aftermath of Parsons’s death, for the skeptical of mind, theories emerged to contradict the accident scenario, although none has ever gained enough traction to counter the prevailing narrative.
Parsons’s closest colleagues argued that, while his personal life crumbled, he never lost his discipline as an experienced handler of dangerous chemicals and explosives. The idea that he would have casually twirled around and dropped a coffee can containing something as lethal as fulminate of mercury struck them as preposterous. This opens a door to the possibility that Parsons’s death was not accidental. And there were rumors, some borne out by evidence at the scene, that a first explosion had initially ripped up through the floorboards and triggered a second explosion of chemicals that were already stored in the room, suggesting that perhaps a bomb had been planted and detonated in the crawl space below.
But no convincing alternate theory has emerged to explain what ultimately happened. So the death of scientist/poet/mystic Jack Parsons remains a mystery. The best explanation was offered by one of Parsons’s closest friends, a science fiction writer who had known him for many years. He summed up the tragic death of the man he called “an American Byron” this way:
“Once a magician stands between two worlds, he’s in danger of not belonging to either one of them. In the end, Jack danced too close to the flames and it cost him his life. Whether he killed himself, was felled by an accident or died at the hand of another is beyond the point. I believe Jack Parsons summoned a fire demon.”
After WWII dozens of German scientists who contributed to the Nazi war effort avoided prosecution at the Nuremberg trials by agreeing to work with the American government on the development of rocket, aircraft and weapon systems and what eventually became the U.S. space program, all carried on after the war, in total secrecy, at White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico.1
In official histories some of these Axis scientists--Wernher von Braun, for instance--are still widely credited with the success these programs enjoyed. American-born Jack Parsons, who helped formulate the science upon which most of those successes rest, is scarcely mentioned, by virtue, one presumes, of a messy personal life and
his dabbling in the occult.2
The Parsons case marked a turning point for Doug Milford and the Air Force’s investigative efforts into the still-growing UFO phenomenon. The next chapter would bring them slowly closer to the truth, to clear and present danger, and lead back to where it may have all begun.
1 Mentioned earlier in the dossier as part of the secret postwar program known as Project Paperclip—TP
2 I can update one aspect of this aftermath: The Powers That Be have recently reinstated Jack Whiteside Parsons into their accounts of aerospace history. He is now mentioned, marginally, in JPL’s public relations documents.
In 1972, three years after American-made JPL rockets first landed American astronauts on the moon, they officially named a prominent crater there after him. You’ll never see it, though, and neither did NASA until their satellites mapped its entire surface. It’s, fittingly, on the dark side of the moon.
So what happens to the UFO program now? And what does Doug Milford do for his next act, sprinkle poison in Fidel Castro’s beard? Board a UFO with Elvis? Kill JFK?—TP
*** PROJECT BLUE BOOK:
In 1948 America’s top military brass officially rejected the initial findings of Project Sign--that UFOs appeared to be of no known earthly origin. As we’ve seen, Sign’s successor program, Project Grudge, was given a specific Pentagon directive to debunk any unresolved UFO sightings or encounters with mundane explanations, and they used the press and national media to do it.
After three years of sloppy, unconvincing and biased research, Grudge offered as its official public summation a blanket denial of the UFO phenomenon as, at best, a mild form of “mass hysteria,” and at worst, evidence of psychopathology or outright publicity-seeking fraud in civilian witnesses.
The public’s response: anger, frustration and disbelief. It seemed the now thousands of citizens who had been through “UFO experiences” didn’t appreciate being publicly shamed, and through letters and the media they let authorities know about it.1
In 1952, a smaller group within the government--many of them alleged members of President Truman’s alleged top-secret UFO task force, Majestic 12--asserted itself and shut down Project Grudge in favor of a new, lower-key program that promised to examine the ever-expanding body of civilian evidence in a more open-minded way that embraced the scientific method without a predetermined negative bias.
According to eyewitness Major Doug Milford, who was present at the first meeting of what soon was publicly announced as Project Blue Book, commanding officer General Charles Cabell offered the following directive: “I’ve been lied to, lied to and lied to. I want an open mind. In fact, I order an open mind, and anyone who doesn’t keep an open mind can get out now! I want an answer to the saucers and I want a good answer.”
Major Doug Milford did eventually provide a good answer, but it would take him an additional 17 years of fieldwork, and it turned out to be an answer that almost nobody wanted to hear. As one of Blue Book’s original personnel--with certified field experience going all the way back to Roswell--Milford emerged as their go-to investigator on high-profile sightings that ensued through the next two decades, and there were dozens of them.
He also had a history of sniffing out cases that Blue Book hadn’t even heard of, leading some to believe that he had a high-placed source within the Eisenhower White House.
The following is a private journal entry of Milford’s from 1958.2
Musings on a Tuesday night
Another call from M today. Still won’t commit anything to paper. The message: “The Wise Men” operate3 in the shadows. Not even sure Ike knows what they’re up to. They may have been started by a Mason but appears they’re followers of the other path now.”
Still trying to run down M’s tip on alleged ’55 incident at Holloman AFB, NM. Rumors of film depicting approach and landing of craft persist, but no film, yet.
Have confirmed that Ike did “disappear” from public eye during his “quail hunting trip” to Georgia for close to 42 hours. Verified source at Holloman swears Ike visited base during that time frame. Also verified that during that time he had orders to “shut down all radar.” When asked why, he was told “radar fouls up their systems, like at Roswell.” Mentions also that “one of them landed on a closed far runway” near where the “Connie” had stopped after landing.4
No eyewitness directly verifies rumor that personnel from one craft then entered the other. M will be disappointed. One wild report that something was exchanged—referred to in one confidential memo as “The Yellow Book.” Reported to be advanced technological “viewer” that displayed pictures of objects in deep space.5
One source says Ike rejected “offer”—these “Nordic types” apparently made their offer contingent on U.S. giving up nukes. Second meeting—time and location unspecified—followed with “grays,” who made no such demands and offered their tech in exchange for access to “genetic material.” That source says second offer accepted. Below is a frame of film alleged to be taken of alleged craft’s approach.6
ARCHIVIST’S NOTE
So Milford was publicly working for Project Blue Book, but never took his eyes off the shadows. The “incident at Holloman” has never, of course, been officially confirmed. It did, however, allegedly serve as the real-life inspiration for the final sequence in the 1977 Steven Spielberg movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
As to the identity of “M,” Milford’s high-placed White House contact, ten years later a better picture of who that might have been emerges.
Through the 1960s, Milford maintained his reputation as the most ethical, dispassionate and trustworthy case officer in Project Blue Book’s history, despite the fact that the program suffered from years of autocratic and irresponsible leadership after the death of JFK, who showed strong interest in the subject.7
These officers once again steered Blue Book toward dedicated debunking at a time when sightings continued to involve thousands of citizens a year who knew perfectly well they weren’t lying, crazy or looking for publicity.
During these years Milford received another promotion--though his military records, for some reason, are still not obtainable through the Freedom of Information Act--attaining the rank of lieutenant colonel.8
After the inauguration of Richard Nixon in early 1969, Colonel Milford accompanied longtime scientific consultant of Project Blue Book J. Allen Hynek for a secure briefing in the Oval Office with the recently elected president.9
Following is Milford’s account of that meeting, this time excerpted from his “official” journals.
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ARCHIVIST’S NOTE
Just as President Nixon predicted, in 1969 all military funding for Blue Book was terminated and the entire project mothballed. That July, astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin left the first human footprints on the moon. In the years before and after, many Apollo astronauts reported seeing UFOs while up there, but--like most witnesses at this point--kept it largely to themselves.
The week after the first moon landing, Doug Milford returned home to Twin Peaks, where he told people that, having reached the age of 60, he’d retired from his long, peripatetic military career. He told closer friends that he planned to take up fly-fishing and oil painting, in that order, but within weeks, following the death of editor/publisher Robert Jacoby, Milford bought a controlling interest in the Twin Peaks Gazette.17
Douglas took immediate steps to modernize both the operation and the look of the paper and also changed its name to the Twin Peaks Post. That fall his older brother Dwayne--the longtime town pharmacist who’d never left home--won his fifth election as mayor.
Douglas wrote a front-page editorial endorsing his brother’s candidacy, which turned out to be the last kind words Douglas ever said or printed about Dwayne.18
Although it’s possible that President Nixon communicated with Doug Milford throughou
t his first term, Milford leaves no written record of it; the next contact between them that Milford details in his journals wouldn’t happen until nearly four years later.
In that time Nixon had indeed “carved out a little operating room”; his reelection in 1972 over Democrat George McGovern turned out to be the biggest landslide in American presidential history. It’s also possible, but difficult to verify, that during those four years Milford began putting together a sub-rosa, interagency investigative team just as the president had requested. Records indicate he traveled extensively to the East Coast--Washington and Philadelphia, primarily--during this period, at a time when he was ostensibly a retired military man running a small-town newspaper.
Then, on the night of February 19, 1973, Milford was summoned to a private compound known as the Florida White House, in Key Biscayne, Florida, at the request of the White House chief of staff, for a briefing with the newly reelected President Richard Nixon.
This meeting has never been made public, and what follows is, once again, Colonel Milford’s account from his personal journals.
PRIVATE JOURNAL OF LT. COL. MILFORD
FEBRUARY 19, 1973, KEY BISCAYNE, FLORIDA
On February 12, I arrived at my condominium in Fort Lauderdale for my customary midwinter monthlong break from the Northwestern gloom and had enjoyed a leisurely week of fishing while looking forward to the start of spring training games. One week later, on the afternoon of the 19th, I received a phone call from an old friend of mine in Tacoma, Fred Crisman, who told me he’d received a call from his old friend H. R. “Bob” Haldeman––Nixon’s chief of staff––with a request that I present myself at Nixon’s Key Biscayne compound that evening at 8:00 PM. I made the drive down to Key Biscayne and arrived promptly, as instructed.19
