Fry also had some highly complicated and rather unusual “scientific theories” which were collected in a slender book a few years ago, but a couple of my scientist friends tell me that what is scientific in Dan’s theories is not very unusual, and what is unusual is not very scientific. But I wouldn’t know, since I even have a hard time understanding this typewriter I’m using.
Speaking of “Understanding,” that is the name of a large, loosely knit organization which considers Dan Fry its leader and guiding light. The last time I heard from Dan, he told me that there were “43 clubs, or ‘Units’.” “Understanding” sponsors lectures on saucerology, contactology, and brings out small publications from time to time. The lecture portion of “Understanding’s” activities, which is by far the largest of the operation, is not a purely spiritual undertaking. Always present is the down to earth miracle of the separation of the silver and the palm, or in translation a dollar and a half or more door charge. If you take that as an average admission, for a lecture in a hall of about 150 people, and not a few halls from two to five times that many seats, the take is two hundred and twenty-five dollars. Deducting fifteen for the room, ten for the mailing, and half-a-yard ($50.00) for the speaker (which all but the really top names are very happy to get), the promoter walks away with 150 for a couple of hours’ work—and that takes very little “Understanding.”
A couple of years after the Dan Fry story came out, another name exploded on the saucer scene. Today he introduces himself with this business card…
Construction Engineer Analytical Research
Author of Books on Extraterrestrial Beings and Travel
“ABOARD A FLYING SAUCER” $3.00
“VOICE OF THE PLANET CLARION” $1.25
“FACING REALITY” $5.00
Reader, Analyst and Appraiser of Unseen Human Vibrations
TRUMAN BETHURUM
P. O. BOX 1028
PRESCOTT, ARIZONA
The Earth Holds No Secrets From Those Who Know!
APPRAISAL BY SPECIAL APPOINTMENT ONLY
A Californian with little formal education, Bethurum spent most of his working life as a semi-skilled laborer, but that was before the great event. Since then he has been many things, only a few of which are listed on the card above.
It began on Sunday, July 7th, 1952, as he was driving a truck across the desert out of Mormon Mesa. It was early evening, the weather was hot, and Bethurum decided to stop roadside and take a nap. Several hours later he awoke to the sound of foreign tongues” and, peering out of his cab, saw a number of “little men, all less than five feet,” clustered around his truck. The strangers, wearing slate uniforms with black caps, had olive skin and jet-black, crew-cut hair.
One of the miniature men spoke to him in English, which surprised Bethurum. Why he expected little men in the middle of both the night and the California desert to speak a foreign language has always been beyond my understanding, but since “Understanding” is Dan Fry’s pitch, not mine, what can I say?
Deciding to move with the action a little, he left his truck to join the crowd, and to his “amazement” there was a genuine, 100% really round flying saucer a few yards away. He guesses that it was some 300 feet in diameter, and about 18 feet through the center. It looked like polished-silver metal. But the wildest part was that it was just “hung three feet above the ground.”
If you hadn’t noticed, I might point out that both Fry and Bethurum saw their saucers in July (Dan on the 4th, Truman on the 7th), on both occasions it was evening, in each instance the night was very hot, and both times it was on the desert. Both ships were silvery, both metallic, both were roundish, and so on. But back to the story.
“Have you a captain?” asked Bethurum.
“Surest thing you know,” came what I think was a weird kind of answer. But maybe it figures, since the “captain” turned out to be a real swinging chick named “Aura Rhanes.”
Over the following few months, Bethurum was visited by the “scow,” as the space people called the saucer, several times, and on each occasion he was given a bit more “information” by the beautiful leader of the expedition. He found out that they came from “Clarion…a planet beyond the moon,” where no one ever had problems and everything was great. According to her, there are a number of populated planets where various people are able to fly through the universe without regard to space, time, heat, cold, or apparently anything else. He also discovered that we are still in kindergarten as far as the science department is concerned, that space people don’t want to have their pictures taken, and all like that.
On one visit, “Aura” told him how her people had the power to knock an enemy into “a state of non-existence,” but then she assured him that such victims weren’t hurt. If you can figure out that gaff, you are better than I am.
By now Truman had been visited by the strange grandmother-gal ten times, and was anxiously awaiting her return, but a full three years went by before he heard from her again. He never explains why the long vacation period.
In November of 1955 she reappeared, but this time without her saucer. Twice she visited the contactee “astrally,” meaning only her “spirit body” came to him, and on these occasions she brought a message. (Personally, if she ever visits me, astrally or otherwise, I hope she leaves the “spirit body” back on the planet Clarion and comes down with the physical body; because this gal, according to reports, is built like a brick house—and every brick is positioned in such a way that it’s an anatomical master-piece.) He was to collect some friends, the ones with money, and assemble sufficient funds to buy up a large section of land. On this property he was to establish a “Sanctuary of Thought,” a commune of “peace, brotherly love,” and gaffs like that. Eventually he got together enough loot to pick up the land and get the movement under way. Of course, once it was in operation Bethurum naturally required regular “contributions,” which he suggests in his publications ought to be about a sawbuck. He also feels that this sum should be supported by an extra six pieces of green a year. For the true believers he has made several of his “spiritual books” available. One forty-page bit goes for a buck and a quarter, another costs a trey; and the third one you can have if you want to spring for a fin. Bethurum is also available for “readings,” “analyses,” “appraisals,” and other gaffs for a spiritual (sometimes known as a “good”) price. But, let’s face it, friends, when you are being put on the inside track by one who receives “unseen human vibrations,” you have to pay for the privilege of getting with it. And, although you may find it hard to picture, there are always those who want to get “the message” and to a number of people one of the contactees with a pipeline into the unknown is Truman Bethurum.
Shortly after Bethurum’s original adventure, another West Coaster began to make a big name for himself. And, as far as I’m concerned, although I don’t buy any of these bits, this man’s was, and is, the most imaginative, the most beautiful, and the most fascinating of them all. His name is Orfeo Angelucci.
In a manner of speaking, Orfeo’s first experience took place even earlier than Kenneth Arnold’s.
In August of 1946 Angelucci lost some mold cultures which he had sent up in Navy-type balloons to test the effect of high altitudes upon them. Since they were the work of many months, he was quite upset, but his disturbance was suddenly interrupted by .the sight of “a craft” in the sky. Although at the time he had no idea what the strange ship might be, he was told later that it had been a flying saucer. This happened in New Jersey; later he moved to the West Coast where he continued to live for several years.
The actual contacts began in the summer of 1952, when he was living and working in Burbank, California. Getting off the evening shift, it was about half-past-midnight as he drove homeward. Gradually, he became aware of a dim red glow ahead of him. It seemed a dozen times larger than a traffic light and oval in shape. The more he watched, the brighter it got. Although he varied his speed, it always maintained the same distance between
them. Orfeo followed along until he found himself on a side road with the glow hovering about thirty feet away, and he stopped. Suddenly, the egg of light leapt upward into the sky. As it went, two brilliant green balls of fire flashed from it and shot toward Angelucci, stopping only a few feet away from the amazed contactee. By now the red glow was gone.
As he studied the new emerald lights, which were each about three feet in diameter, they pulsated. Then, unexpectedly, a strong masculine voice came from the globes of fire. It told him not to be afraid and to get out of his car. He was reminded of the balloons and the unknown craft, and was told that he had been watched ever since that time. Suddenly his attention was drawn to a “crystal cup” sitting on the fender of his automobile. It contained a golden, bubbling fluid which he was told to drink. Downing the liquid, he was immediately rewarded with a wonderful sense of well-being and health. Almost a sensation of radiance. Say, it just dawned on me. Maybe I’d better tell Jackie Gleason about this fluid. And as the interplanetarians say, “To your radiance, Jackie.”
As Orfeo just stood there feeling great, the two green discs began to expand until they merged into a three-dimensional screen upon which appeared the head the shoulders of a terrifically good-looking man and woman. Through telepathy he was told that he was one of three persons on Earth who would be contacted by the space people. The other two lived in Rome and India. Each had been selected because, he was told, the meek and humble would inherit the contacts. (To give you a square count, I have not always found this to be the case with the saucerologists.) As the thought waves continued, he was made aware that the strange discs were powered and controlled by tapping the cosmic magnetic force and might be considered “synthetic brains.” Further, he found out that the images and voices, which were described as “essentially etheric,” were being directed from a “mother ship” far up in the stratosphere. The purpose of the space people, they revealed, (and this came as no great surprise) was to aid in the spreading of the “universal brotherhood of compassion and understanding.”
After a few more communications, the couple bid Angelucci goodnight. The screen resolved into the two green, pulsating globes which began to “hum” and, flaring into an “irridescent emerald flame, they shot upward and disappeared in the pitch black sky.”
Shaken and bewildered, Orfeo drove home, and collapsed into his bed, where he remained for two days. Unlike other contactees, his reactions to his experiences seem to be just about what one would expect of the average guy. He didn’t act like he’d just run into a movie star or congressman.
A couple of months later, Angelucci was returning home one evening. Suddenly, as he crossed a dark, empty lot, he became aware of a great luminescent “bubble.” He estimated its height at thirty feet, with a base of about the same measurement; it formed a semi-sphere. In its side opened a door.
Entering, Orfeo was faced with a circular room eighteen feet across, and mostly built of something like glowing mother-of-pearl. Seating himself in the nearest chair, he relaxed with that old feeling of well-being, as mystical music, playing his favorite melody, filled the compartment.
A slight change in pressure made him realize .he was in the air. He relaxed as the wall in front of him began to roll back, and he found himself staring out of a nine-foot circular window. Below, in all of its glory, spun the Earth. Stars forever twinkled in the background. He realized that he was thousands of miles above his planet, soaring through space. Tears filled his eyes as he gazed at the wonder of the universe. A voice spoke:
“Weep, Orfeo. Let tears unblind your eyes. For this moment we weep with you for Earth and her Children.”
After a short time, the contactee had another fantastic experience. Into his field of vision floated a titanic dirigible-like ship which he pictured as about ninety feet in diameter and over a thousand feet long! This was the unbelievable “mother ship.”
Swooning under the impact of what was happening to him, Angelucci heard the mysterious voice continue touching one great truth and another. It spoke of ethics, aesthetics, science, medicine, and finally, inevitably it turned to the subject no saucer story neglects—religion. However, unlike the “reports” of many of the contactees, Orfeo’s tie-in with religious ideas is tasteful and inoffensive, except possibly to the very sensitive. It certainly is extraordinarily imaginative.
Then, without any warning, the voice announced:
“Beloved friend of Earth, we baptize you now in the true light of the worlds eternal.”
Instantly Orfeo was blinded by a burst of white light, almost losing consciousness! He felt “aware” of many previous incarnations and by the time he was completely himself he was lying in his own bed in his own home on his own planet, again.
Later the owner of the voice, who was named Neptune, visited him in person for a brief period and then vanished, possibly to the other side of the universe.
Now Angelucci had a quiet period. No space ships, no Contacts, no action, no nothing. Well, that’s not exactly true. During this time he participated in a “Flying Saucer Convention,” which also included such famous saucer names as George Adamski, George Van Tassel, and Truman Bethurum. As might be expected, the pitch was a red one. And for the unintiated, on a midway that means a real success.
One afternoon, as he lay on his living room sofa, Angelucci fell into what can only be called a trance state. But as he sank deeper and deeper, he also felt himself wake wider and wider into another strange and unknown world. An astral world, a spiritual world. Looking down at himself, he found that his sickly, frail figure had been replaced by a perfectly formed Adonis-type body in a gold and white toga kind of thing. As his eyes wandered about the room, he heard the sound of distant thunder. Then a door across the chamber opened, and a gorgeous gal walked in. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes were large and blue.
Let me interrupt this tale for a moment. My friends claim that I’ve been in the trance state for years. But I’ve still got this sickly, frail body. In fact, when I go to the beach, the guys throw sand on me and great-looking chicks walk by—and I mean right by me. And now back to the Angelucci story.
Orfeo flipped when she called him Neptune, but out there on other planets somebody can be you, you can be somebody else, someone can be himself. You know, I don’t know what that last sentence means. But for real, that’s what Angelucci told me.
Lyra, which was her name, was followed in, unfortunately, by a golden boy who went by the name Orion. As they tried to explain a few things to him, he got the idea that this was what was left of a world of a long, long time ago. The way his space friends told it, once upon a time the good guys and the bad guys had it out, and the bad guys, led by Lucifer, lost. Earth, he was told, was composed of many people who were Luciferians, and many who were not. As for Lucifer himself, he’s right here on Earth in an unidentified form—but the space people were not able to divulge who he was at this particular time.
I must admit, neighbors, that this part of Orfeo’s story had me going for a while. As a matter of fact, some of us used to sit around just guessing who Lucifer might be impersonating today, and offering evidence to back up our opinions.
Among the wild experiences enjoyed by the contactee were super-suppers, profound philosophy, and a moment of mystical communion with Lyra which made old-fashioned earth-type sex dull as rocket-wash. But Orfeo does admit that as long as one is hung up on earth the usual relationships between men and women are approved. But back to the other worlds of Orfeo Angelucci.
After a week of this visit to a small planet, the happy contactee found himself awakening from his lengthy nap on his own drawing room couch. Actually, at that time he remembered nothing of his astral adventure. It did not all come clear to him for about six or seven months.
At the conclusion of this “first phase” of Angelucci’s story, he had a “vision” of the Lord. Not a visitation, mind you, just a personal insight. A short time later he was visited for the last time by the original voice, Neptune. And that
was that—for the moment. However, once the story was circulated, the Angelucci clan began to grow. His name rose rapidly to the top ranks of saucerologists. Lectures, articles and books came from him, and it was all of this action that led him into the second, and even more amazing, phase of his fabulous adventure.
CHAPTER 3—FIVE-INCH BLONDES AND THREE WILD GEORGES
“A new, unnatural cross between
A mystic, monster, and machine.”—Sir Alan Patrick Herbert
ORFEO ANGELUCCI had become an important name in the flying saucer field by 1954. His book dealing with his original contacts with people from other planets had attracted a great many followers. But after much publicity and many lectures, his health began to fail him again, and he decided to retire to a small cottage in the High Desert, near Twenty Nine Palms, California, home of the celebrated “lady” of like nomenclature.
One evening, a few weeks prior to Christmas, he drove into that small community to have dinner in the town cafe. Entering the restaurant, he was struck by the dynamic presence of a young man seated there.
“Hello, Orfeo,” greeted the stranger, who announced that he might be called “Adam.”
Ordering two steaks and dismissing the waitress, the young man offered Orfeo “a very rare champagne.” Handing Angelucci an ivory-colored pellet, he pointed to one of the water tumblers, and the contactee dropped the tablet into it. Orfeo was fascinated as he saw the glass become a goblet of bubbling amber nectar, and he recognized it as the magic potion of before. Drinking it down, he began to feel the same strange and wonderful sensation of well-being.
Soon Adam revealed that he was a physician from Seattle who, although less than forty, had but a few months of life left—at least on this Earth. He admitted that when he learned his fate he left his practice for a period of contemplation and decision. As Adam spoke, the two men became aware of a third, empty, and unused tumbler on the table. It began to glisten and suddenly filled with the golden nectar. Staring at the glass, they heard the soft hypnotic strains of etheric music—and they were stunned. Before them, a vision was beginning to form in the image of an exquisite miniature woman dancing in the glass. She was radiantly beautiful, magnificently formed, and no more than five inches tall. Her eyes were a brilliant emerald green, her hair was long and golden, and her flesh was tinted ivory and rose. She was barely concealed by a transparent silken robe.
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