The Space People: ENCOUNTER AT DESERT CENTER

Alien Base: The Evidence for Extraterrestrial Colonization of Earth – The Space People: ENCOUNTER AT DESERT CENTER

In Chapter 1, I cited Adamski’s detailed description of ‘Orthon’, who he claims stepped out of a flying saucer in the Californian desert, 10 miles from Desert Center, at 12.30 on 20 November 1952. Although the basic story is well known, most readers will be unfamiliar with the details, as published in Flying Saucers Have Landed, the best-selling book by Desmond Leslie and Adamski, which has long been out of print.

The contact was partly observed from a distance by six friends of Adamski, all of whom signed affidavits testifying to this event. Adamski, who had already succeeded in taking some remarkable photographs through his telescope of what he called ‘scoutcraft’ and ‘mother ships’, had made a number of unsuccessful trips to the Californian desert in 1952, in hope of making contact with the extraterrestrials.

On 20 November, he arranged for Alice Wells and Lucy McGinnis to drive him to a certain destination, which turned out to be the contact site near Desert Center. Accompanying them, in a separate car, were Alfred and Betty Bailey and George and Betty Hunt Williamson. They arrived at their destination shortly after 08.00, but it was not until after 12 noon that the adventure began. At this time, a twin-engined aircraft passed low overhead then disappeared in the distance. ‘Suddenly and simultaneously we all turned as one,’ related Adamski, ‘looking again toward the closest mountain ridge where just a few minutes before the first plane had crossed.’

And there it was: Riding high, and without sound, there was a gigantic cigar-shaped silvery ship, without wings or appendages of any kind. Slowly, almost as if it was drifting, it came in our direction, then seemed to stop, hovering motionless . . . At first glance it looked like a fuselage of a very large ship with the sun’s rays reflecting brightly from its unpainted side, at an altitude and angle where wings might not be noticeable.

Excitedly, binoculars were passed round and attempts were made to photograph the craft. Adamski considered unpacking his telescope (to which was attached a camera) from the car, but thought better of the idea, since his hunch was that this was not the place where contact would take place.

On the twenty-seventh anniversary of this event, in 1979, I interviewed Lucy McGinnis, Adamski’s former secretary, whom I found to be honest and objective. ‘Here came this great big ship that looked like a dirigible,’ she confirmed. ‘And George said, “Quick, get me up there! I want to go and set the telescope up.” So I drove him [and Al Bailey] up to where he said we should go.’

I kept looking out of the car. And that ship turned and just followed us. And he said, ‘Here. Stop!’ So I stopped, and he got out, and that dirigible stopped — quite a ways away. I couldn’t very well judge how far away it was. And he set up the telescope. And after he got everything set up, he said, ‘Now you go back.

Adamski remained by himself at this new site (which I have visited), observed by the others from an estimated distance of between half a mile and a mile away. As the car left, the large cigar-shaped object turned its nose and was lost from sight, ‘but not before a number of our planes roared overhead in an apparent effort to circle this gigantic stranger,’ reported Adamski. Five minutes later, another craft appeared: . . . my attention was attracted by a flash in the sky and almost instantly a beautiful small craft appeared to be drifting through a saddle between two of the mountain peaks and settling silently into one of the coves about a half a mile from me. It did not lower itself entirely below the crest of the mountain.

Only the lower portion settled below the crest, while the upper, or dome section, remained above the crest and in full sight of the rest of my party who were back there watching. Yet it was in such a position that I could see the entire ship.

Meanwhile, the others strained to see the craft. ‘It seemed to me like it was a kind of light,’ Lucy told me, ‘but it was so dim and the sun so bright that I couldn’t be sure. Anyway, I saw it come down . . . I looked through the binoculars, but they weren’t adjusted to my eyes and I couldn’t tell for sure. I could see better without them, because I have very good eyes, and it wasn’t such a long distance away. Out there in the desert you can see a long way.’

Without taking adequate time to focus through the ground glass on the back of the old German plate-camera which was attached to his telescope, Adamski began to take several photographic plates. Regrettably, these did not come out well, though some additional shots he took with a handheld Brownie box- camera came out better, if rather indistinct owing to the distance of the object.
As the small craft moved away and disappeared, two military aircraft roared overhead.