The True Story of the Worlds First Documented Alien Abduction: Betty’s Fall From Grace
In 1991, Betty had become so disillusioned by what she perceived to be the misuse of hypnosis that she publicly announced she was retiring from the field.
When Kathy asked why she decided to drop out of public life, Betty responded:
Because there are too many kooks in the UFO field. Today’s UFO investigators know too little about the UFO field. They accept fantasy as if it were reality and distort information to fit their purposes. In the old days, events of high strangeness were dismissed as pure fantasy or delusional thinking. Most of today’s investigators are too willing to believe these high strangeness events. I have a name for them—psychological abductions. When someone tells me that they were abducted right through the roof of their house, I tell them, “Oh my God, how much was the cost of the repair?” People don’t walk through roofs or walls or windows.
People take bits and pieces of what they see on TV and incorporate them into UFO experiences. Of all of the abductions that I have personally investigated, in my opinion, only nine were true abductions. I think that many of the others [psychological abductees] have a feeling of complete powerlessness. A lot of them have undergone severe child abuse, but others are affected by the sick society that we live in. People are scared. They have lost their sense of security. They know that they have been told lies all of their lives—we’re the biggest; we’re the brightest; we’re the greatest; we’re the most powerful…and they’re reacting to this. They are looking for a better world. They’re hoping that the ETs are going to save the world, or save them.
Then, there is another group that I have worked with over the past 10 or 15 years; 50 percent of these people are mentally ill. Their mental illness begins with the delusion of a capture. I got involved in this area when medical doctors began to refer patients to me. They know me and know that I am a retired social worker. I have put parents and children into the state hospital, and have had to distinguish between mental illness and emotional problems.
I had all of those years working with doctors, psychiatrists, and mental health people. After you get to know these people, you learn that they are having delusions about other things too. I had one woman who came to my house wearing a winter coat in the middle of the summer, complaining about how terrible the snowstorm was—how she had all she could do to get here. These people go into psychiatric treatment for 30 days, they get put on the right medication, and they bring me the arts and crafts they made while they were there.
Of the hundred or so people that I have investigated, some were mentally ill and having delusions, some had the wrong UFO investigators, some were hypnotized by the wrong people—the misuse of hypnosis—and some were just highly suggestible. They were part of the “me too” group. Then, there were the few who had real abductions.
Several UFO researchers have asked Betty if she later suspected that she and Barney were tracked through alien implants. She scoffed at the notion, stating that she would believe in alien implants when there was scientific proof that they existed. In her feistiest voice, she told Kathy, “I find tracking devices difficult to believe. Only psychological abductions have implants.
No real abduction has ever had an implant. When people are abducted it has nothing to do with the person; they simply want to do some kind of test. So, they grab someone, get the results, and that’s it. They can find us because they followed us home in 1961.”
Epilogue
After Betty’s retirement from the UFO field, she devoted more of her time to intellectual pursuits in the areas of archeology, social justice, genealogy, social psychology, ufology, and politics. Her thirst for intellectual stimulation and the acquisition of knowledge was lifelong. She researched and wrote her family’s genealogical history, continued to write her memoirs, and became a frequent contributor of editorial comments to local newspapers. She expressed a liberal political agenda under the pseudonym “Feisty.” Her solid ego, sharp intellect, and a terrific sense of humor served Betty well.
When Pease Air Force Base closed in 1991, many of Betty’s closest friends were transferred to other bases. This closure marked a signifi cant loss for Betty, who had participated in an active social life with her military friends. Suddenly, her Sunday morning brunches abruptly ceased, and her weekend excursions to the mountains or the seashore with close military associates halted. Life slowed down and Betty devoted more time to nurturing the lush English gardens that she had planted around her home. She was a nature lover who sought to care for her neighborhood’s forest animals and to preserve their habitat in the city. Her pet fancy chickens drew the attention of neighborhood children, as did the abandoned felines that she fed and rescued.
She maintained warm relationships with many friends throughout the New England region, and always looked forward to their visits. She and her closest companion, Elaine Freiday, traveled to Europe together, and they were frequent visitors to New Hampshire’s Indian Head Resort. Lanie, as she was called, operated a convalescent home for disabled veterans near Cape Cod, caring for soldiers who had never recovered from the psychological horrors of their war experiences. Although she out- lived most of her contemporaries, Betty enjoyed the company of a wide array of younger friends. Those who loved, admired, and respected her often sought her advice on a variety of issues. She could converse intelligently on nearly any subject and loved to argue her social and political agenda with those of opposing viewpoints.
In 1993 Betty experienced another health crisis. Her long-standing abdominal complaints had developed into stomach cancer. A last-minute diagnosis saved her life but took 80 percent of her stomach. Fortunately there was no metastasis, and Betty made a full recovery.
In 1995, with the assistance of a close friend and Kathy, Betty wrote and self-published A Common Sense Approach to UFOs. She was no longer bound by the terms of her contract with Dr. Benjamin Simon and John Fuller, as they were deceased, so this gave her the opportunity to finally express her views in literary form. Because Betty was concerned about declining educational standards in America, she wrote to a 10th-grade audience. Her book was simply stated in “common” language, giving the reader the impression that they were seated in her living room listening to a monologue by Betty. Although the language and sentence structure were uncomplicated, she expressed a detailed journey through her 30 years of research in ufology, including her views on hypnosis, abductions, her silent network, her sightings, and her life.
At the turn of the century Betty’s health began to decline again and she underwent surgery for a second cancerous tumor, unrelated to the first. Additionally, her long-term two-pack-a-day cigarette habit was having a deleterious impact upon her health. Those who expressed concern were subject to a lengthy defense of the benefits of cigarettes. By the time her lung cancer was diagnosed, her prognosis was poor. She endured chemotherapy and radiation treatment, briefly earning a remission status, but the malignancy was tenacious. By early 2004, it had metastasized to her brain and adrenals, generating a rapid decline in her condition.
With family and friends by her side she courageously awaited her fate. Often acquaintances half-joked, half-wished for extraterrestrial intervention. Although Betty insisted that she had been abducted only once and a deathbed visit was unlikely, a bizarre occurrence seems to have transpired in mid-June. Betty’s daughter reported that Betty had retired on the living room sofa, the only comfortable location considering the fact that she had sustained a fracture to her upper humerus and a hairline fracture of her right wrist that afternoon. She was not able to recline without enduring excruciating pain from her cancerous tumor, so she slept in an upright position. Her daughter, an extremely light sleeper, who normally awoke whenever she heard Betty stir, retired to the adjacent bedroom with the door open, so she had direct sight of Betty. With- out an apparent explanation, Betty’s daughter slept soundly throughout the night, rising 1 1/2 half hours later than usual. The first thing she noticed when she checked on Betty was the absence of her splint and sling.
The previous night the splint, held in place by an Ace bandage, had been tightly wrapped around Betty’s forearm and hand. Now they were neatly placed on a chair 10 feet away from Betty’s position on the sofa—an impossible task for Betty to have accomplished. The Ace bandage was still intact around the splint, as if they had been removed from Betty’s arm without being unwrapped. The sling was neatly folded and placed on top of the splint.
At this point in the progression of Betty’s disease, she was paraplegic with additional paralysis in her right arm. It would have been physically impossible for Betty to have removed, rewrapped, and folded her de- vices. Additionally, had either woman attempted to remove these applications, Betty would have screamed in agony. Neither individual remembered anything from the night in question.
Perplexed, Betty’s daughter went about her morning routine of opening windows and unlocking doors. She was astonished to discover that the rear door, which she had deadbolted the previous evening, stood wide open. She was certain that she had closed and locked it. Then she noticed that the bolt was protruding from the door in a locked position. Could Betty have accomplished an impossible task in her sleep? Or could her daughter, who had never before sleepwalked, have carried out these un- canny occurrences? But there was more. Betty’s constant feline companion, the giver and taker of unbridled affection, suddenly feared Betty. She seemed unusually timid and skirted the perimeter of the living room, suspiciously eyeing Betty as she passed to her food bowl. The remainder of her day was spent in hiding, and this lasted for nine days.
Although this was not a good time for full investigation, Kathy at- tempted to find an earthly explanation. Both the interior and exterior environment of Betty’s house failed to reveal observable evidence of alien intrusion. There were no landing traces, footprints, or odors to suggest UFO activity. Nor did neighbors observe unusual activity during the night.
However, Betty’s appearance and strength seemed to improve during the days following the uncertain event. This was witnessed by medical personnel, family, and friends, and recorded by Kathy. Betty’s gray pallor suddenly became rosy, her mind clearer, and her pain level was significantly reduced. Her dull, glazed eyes took on their former sparkle, and she regained some strength and endurance. Possibly, this rapid improvement could be explained as a psychological effect or as a characteristic of the waxing and waning of cancer symptoms. However, that does not explain the sudden, uncharacteristic timidity in Betty’s cat.
Whatever occurred, it did not effect a long-term change in Betty’s health status. Within weeks she entered a rapid decline, and four months later she succumbed to metastatic lung cancer. Her large funeral was attended by family, friends, hospice staff, and admirers. Two longtime friends reminisced to the mourners at the funeral service about their fond memories of Betty. The hospice chaplain, a Unitarian minister, spoke about Betty’s wonderful sense of humor, her optimistic outlook on life, her genuine sense of caring, and her spiritual strength. Others mentioned that fame had not distorted Betty’s sense of self. She was down to earth and unassuming. She was a fascinating conversationalist and extremely bright for her age.
Newspapers throughout the country carried Betty’s obituary and articles about her UFO encounter, missing time, hypnotic retrieval, book, and movie. She had become a legend.
Following the funeral service, Betty was laid to rest next to her husband, mother, and father in Kingston, New Hampshire. An invitation- only reception was held at the Pond View Restaurant in Kingston near Betty’s childhood home.
Betty lived her life by a lesson conveyed to her by a grade-school teacher: She said that each of us is like a speck of sand on a beach. Some are born closer to the water’s edge, and others are born on the upper side of the beach, farther away from the tide. With each high tide, grains of sand are swept away into the ocean. Those at the water’s edge are some- times carried to the top, and those at the on the upper side of the beach are sometimes swept into the current by winds and storms. However, some of these grains of sand, whether carried by the tide or originating on the upper beach, escape being swept into the turbulent sea. It is those who go down in history. If Betty could have had her wish, she would have gone down in history as a groundbreaking social worker and a social and political activist. It was never her wish to go down in history as a UFO abductee. However, she was carried among those grains of sand that rose to the top, and unintentionally, she met her fate.