Go Down Together
NICAP staff naturally stayed abreast of Blue Book activity, and often collaborated with the USAF group via free exchanges of files. As a retired military man, the calm and methodical Keyhoe understood the value of shared intelligence, particularly when tepid Air Force support of Blue Book could mean an eventual end to NICAP access to Blue Book files. Keyhoe realized that his friends at Blue Book were working under increasingly less friendly conditions.
But the nature of his NICAP group—a civilian organization, after all—suggested to Keyhoe more protective camouflage than NICAP actually had. Keyhoe made no secret of his disappointment in Air Force handling of UFO accounts. Further, because Keyhoe visited NICAP only once or twice a month, it was left to Gordon Lore and other day-to-day staffers to suspect that NICAP, too, may be on thin ice. Lore was particularly aware that the Air Force had labeled Keyhoe as a “gadfly”—a useful tag employed by those with real power. But neither Keyhoe nor NICAP held power.
After about 1966, a NICAP board member and, possibly, a rank-and-file investigator with CIA connections may have functioned as moles. On days when Keyhoe was absent, some members of the board sequestered themselves to examine NICAP case files. Over at Blue Book, the revolving door of mostly antipathetic directors did not suggest a bright future for that project. It was no stretch, then, for Lore and others at NICAP to imagine that their own organization was being observed by unfriendly eyes. NICAP’s financials had stabilized around 1965, but now they were a mess. Memberships and contributions had dried up after the Condon Report. Because some level of financial reorganization was required, NICAP had made itself vulnerable. The real issue, though, is that the USAF simply got fed up with Keyhoe’s insistence on pushing investigations of sightings for which the military and other authorities would have no plausible explanations. NICAP activity cast doubt on Air Force competence and credibility. As the Air Force saw it, NICAP had a bad attitude. Blue Book was going to go, and NICAP would go right along with it.
Despite having no formal warning of what was to come, NICAP staffers could read the bathroom walls. The 1968 Condon Committee report dismissed UFO investigation as useless. Blue Book was teetering. Thus motivated, three or four NICAP staff members devoted parts of NICAP’s last weeks and months to copying as many particularly credible reports as possible, follow-up paperwork included. Those staffers removed the copies to secure locations.
Mid-December 1969 brought official USAF termination of Blue Book. Then it was NICAP’s turn. No official rationale for the 1970 takeover of NICAP and immediate dismissal of staff was offered to anybody in the office. “One day we were operating as normal,” Gordon Lore said. “The next day, the doors and desks were locked and employees were closely guarded while collecting their personal belongings.” Keyhoe, who lived about a hundred miles away in Luray, Virginia, was notified at his home. No member of the reorganized, “approved” NICAP board had the nerve needed to inform Keyhoe to his face, or even by phone. The message came to the major via telegram.
Of course, NICAP’s civilian status prevented the Air Force/CIA from closing NICAP completely; with the CIA working from behind the scenes, the organization stumbled on for another ten years, shuffling files and publishing an occasional newsletter before departing the scene in 1980. NICAP’s files are now held by the Center for UFO Studies (CUFOS). Another UFO group, the Fund for UFO Research (FUFOR), maintains an historical Web site