by Truman Bethurum

It was a memorable day in July, 1952, when I first had the opportunity of meeting and talking with SPACE PEOPLE, or people from another world! As it is written in my first book, “ABOARD A FLYING SAUCER,” I was shifted to become night mechanic on four large water trucks, which were hauling water for the road project that I was working on in Nevada.

I knew that many good men were laid off to cut costs on the project and I thought that I, too, would be laid off just as soon as all the trucks were brought up or repaired to satisfactory operating conditions. However, there were several conditions that I had not considered. One was vibration, shaking exhaust stacks loose, fuel lines and hand lamps, etc. Another was the long, heavy grade uphill, with very heavy loads of water. The gears in all the trucks were under tremendous strain at all times, as were the axles and tires. The mechanic’s work was quite a challenge to keep these big tankers (tank trucks and semi-trailer water hauling trucks) operating under the conditions prevailing.

I was working quite diligently, getting the trucks in top condition, and I believe it was about the third shift before I could relax, knowing that the four trucks were in top condition. The operators of the batch trucks, when we were mixing and spreading asphalt, had talked with me, and upon learning my home was near the ocean at Redondo Beach, told me about the Mormon Mesa area being covered with seashells. This was an indication that this location had been under the ocean at some prehistoric time. These men suggested that I ascertain this fact for myself.

I took this opportunity, sometime after midnight, on July 28-29, 1952, I had asked for, and received, permission to drive my own truck over to the Mesa, on Company time after my work was completed. To ascertain whether it was a fact that seashells were prevalent there, indicating prehistoric coverage, did not mean to me that I should take any special equipment along, as I had no idea that anything was to occur that would be out of the ordinary.

I had no camera, nor pen nor writing paper; only my truck, water bag and flashlight. What did occur is one of the momentous happenings in the world’s history!

I drove my Dodge carryall truck as far as I could towards the Mesa, in four-wheel-drive, low gear. I still had compound low and reverse to use, if necessary, in leaving this hillside location. I walked up on the Mesa and around in a giant circle or horseshoe pattern, using my flashlight occasionally to see whether I could find any seashells. I found indications of animal life, besides tracks, also a scattering of various sized stones and rocks, but no visible seashells.

After an hour or so, I returned to my truck, a little tired from walking around in the loose soil. I was thinking that I had either selected the wrong location to investigate, or that probably all the visible shells had already been collected, if in fact, any had been there in the first place. Yet I was sure my co-workers were not trying to play a practical joke on me.

I decided to sit in the truck and relax a little. I could see from my position that the water trucks were operating on regular schedule. The truck drivers, when passing each other, blasted their air-horns in friendly greetings. They also did a lot of tooting whenever a jackrabbit was seen along the highway. Many times the wary, but unwise, “jacks” would end up under the truck wheels, blinded and frightened by the headlights and the loud noise of the truck motors, unmuffled as they were on this remote desert project.

It didn’t take very long for old Morpheus to catch up with me after this night of strenuous work and walking around on the Mesa. I felt no reluctance about relaxing, or even taking a nap, as my foreman had told me someone would come after me if I was needed for any reason at all before I returned from the Mesa. After dozing for probably a half hour or so, I felt as though I were being paged for some sort of a repair job, when I was awakened by the sound of voices.

Not hearing any intelligible words did not mean too much to me at first, because when construction men find a fellow worker asleep on the job, they react in various ways. Where real friends are concerned, as a general rule an attempt at disguising voices is used as a joke, and sometimes an effort is made by monologue to indicate that a different boss is concerned with finding someone asleep!

I listened intently, believing such was the case, but as I could not detect any semblance of English words, or the voices of known co-workers, I thought an investigation was in order. Opening my eyes and sitting up, I found that my visitors were indeed strangers to me.

Within seconds, the spokesman had turned his attention to me and was attempting to converse with me, apparently in their language. I did not understand and indicated this with a shake of my head. Instantly, our English language was spoken, and very fluently at that! Surprised as I was, I thought the better part of valor was to see if additional visitors were standing where they would be behind me when I dismounted from my truck.

The remainder of this particular night’s happenings have been made known for all to read for over four years in my book, “ABOARD A FLYING SAUCER.”

That night’s events will long be a vivid memory to me and of utmost importance to all the people of our Planet Earth, for here in my presence were ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS FROM OUTER SPACE AND ANOTHER PLANET!!!

This book is not written to replace my other book, nor to elaborate in any manner, but rather to bring the world to a better understanding and knowledge of what this really means to the Earth people in general. Also it is my desire to answer many questions left unanswered in my previous book.

After eleven visits by the Spacecraft to the area where I was working, for some reason still unknown to me, contact was broken. However, the visitation of Earth by space craft has actually increased in number of sightings and reports by people in localities all over the world. To belittle these reports is to be like an ostrich, which is said to bury its head in sand. In other words, closing one’s eyes and mind to REALITY would be gross foolishness!

I have every reason to believe that beings or people from at least four, and possibly as many as twelve planets, are now entering our atmosphere quite regularly. I also sincerely believe that these SPACE PEOPLE are really visiting and mingling with Earth people at their own leisure and without being challenged by our citizens or the military, because they are human beings, just like ourselves.

The long-held idea of life being nonexistent, except on this Earth planet, has fallen by the wayside because of the visual sightings and the corrected reports of astronomers and scientists in all walks of life. Pilots, both civilian and service connected, have torn the veil of secrecy that has so long been covering this realistic situation. Newspapers from all parts of the world have carried the news, both with pictures, commentary and personal reports.

I have witnessed jet aircraft being observed by the so-called saucers in daylight hours over Las Vegas, Nevada, area in the fall of 1952. The same thing occurred during the fall of 1954 in the early morning hours, over the Palm Springs and Desert Center area of California. Both times I was in the company of others who also witnessed the curiosity of the saucers.

I have newspaper clippings by the hundreds of people reporting saucers, fireballs, spacecraft and unidentifiable flying objects, etc.

I am well aware that many police officers, and civilians as well, have telephoned in reports of sightings which were printed in the newspapers, only to have the papers later deny that the objects seen were actually spacecraft. To say that these spacecraft were flights of pelicans, seagulls, weather balloons and cloud mirages is the height of foolishness!

What the newspapers cannot do is to take the reality of the sightings from the people’s minds. Each and everyone knows in their own mind and consciousness exactly what was seen! No one can steal away that knowledge.

My Clarion friends are definitely Latin in appearance. I was told by their Captain, AURA RHANES, at least two times while I was on the spacecraft, that a whole or partial new crew of men were visiting the Earth for the first time. I did not ask whether Clarion also had a Nordic-appearing race, but I was told very clearly: “We consider our plant Clarion as of one race and one religion.”

To me, this would be sufficient to accept the fact that Clarion is peopled entirely by these olive-skinned, dark haired and dark eyed people. The crew, or crews, as far as I could determine, would range in size from the Captain, approximately four feet, six inches, to the tallest of the men, about five feet, two or three inches. They were all fully developed and, in their general appearance, resembled adults.

The Captain, although mentioning that she is a mother and a grandmother, looked as youthful as any young college girl of this Earth. The men appeared to be in the 30-38 year old bracket, as nearly as I could tell. I vainly tried to get them to state a specific age in our years, but their answer was that “time and distance,” as we of Earth know them, are of no consequence to them.

How much we could learn and profit from these wonderful people! Once we are willing and ready for the prolongation of their visits, we can contact and learn from them their basis of peace and understanding. Then we will eliminate our arrogance and warlike attitude which, to me, is undoubtedly the reason why only a few earthlings have had the privilege of their acquaintance.

Many inquire about their clothing. The men were dressed very much in the manner of our Greyhound drivers. They wore low cut shoes with very low heels, for the most part being black or gun-metal. Their trousers were bluish-gray with cuffs and were extremely neat. Each wore a cowboy type jacket with sleeves ending in cuffs of the same, or similar, material as the trousers. All wore caps that could be termed officer-type, although there was no metal or insignia visibly worn by the Captain or any of the men.

The Captain, AURA RHANES, seemed to have a preference for a brilliant red skirt, pleated and worn with a black velvet blouse. With this she wore a beret of the same material trimmed with the same red as the skirt. On one occasion, she wore a slack and blouse outfit, which was very chic and becoming to her.

Try as I might, I could never get the Captain or any of the crew to give me any names of the men, although I was told that they did have names. I noticed that voice communication was used between these people, while at other times, one could plainly see that they were using what we would call mental telepathy, without vocal, facial expression of thoughts.

Many people have asked some very pertinent questions regarding the Space People, their appearance, mannerisms, etc. To the best of my observance, I noticed that their facial expression seemed to show complete understanding of everything around them. I noticed too that their eyes, though dark in appearance, seemed friendly and warm and did not have the effect of frightening one, even under the element of sudden surprise, such as I had experienced. Their features were symmetrical and one could quickly detect that these people were a race apart from our familiar mixtures on Earth, although I suspected at first that they were of Spanish or Italian origin.

I noticed that each had a slight, peculiar crook at the bridge of their nose. Their foreheads were normally high in comparison to their size. None had a receding hairline or any semblance of anything except perfect health. Their movements indicated that these people are very agile, far beyond the ordinary concept of agility. I found I had to hurry a little to keep up with their leisurely manner, whether walking with the lady Captain or the men of her crew.

From our many discussions, I found that this so-called “Scow” is just one of the many belonging to Clarion. They never gave me any accounting of their possessions, but satisfied me with the statement that, “We have many, all identical.” All are staffed with thirty-two men and all have a woman Captain. Naturally, this “woman captain” business had me stymied, and I don’t know how to figure this one out.

Here was a lone woman among a group of men, who had indicated that she was the Captain. Certainly, nothing that ensued afterwards would tend to indicate other than that this was the situation. In my questioning, I found that the answers were freely given, and nothing occurred at any time to suggest that any higher authority was, or should be, conferred with regarding anything discussed. Surely this little woman was the master-mind, both for the crew and for any business concerning the spacecraft or their visiting the Planet Earth.

Since these visits occurred, I have read and noticed in many newspapers, books, magazines and articles written by prominent doctors, scientists and aeronautical authorities about space travel, both to and from our planet. In practically all instances, these people have gone into great detail in drawings, pictures and charts, to show the people of Earth just what would be necessary to wear on any trip into Space.

My understanding is that they have in mind a trip to the Moon or to some supposedly well-known planet, such as Mars or Venus. These space suits, as many have elected to call them, are, to say the least, fantastic in appearance and size. I presume the weight would be excessive and awkward for anyone to move about in.

Some science-fiction writers have pictured large enclosures over the head, with tanks, gauges and other paraphernalia attached to, or a part of, these so-called space suits. Many pictures have been filmed in well established motion picture studios tending to show that any person making such a trip would be floating around inside this contraption. Others have pictured agonized facial expressions of fear, despair, pain, and other weird or unbecoming appearances.

Practically all have made a feature of warfare in Space. Possibly that would be the thing to be feared, if people from our Earth had the secret of Space travel!

Another bizarre picture is thrust upon unsuspecting and thrill-seeking readers and audiences by what is termed “space medicine.” If all the people who are potentially preparing to make a trip into Space suddenly need attention and doses of these so-called “Elixirs of Space,” who is going to be in a position to render medical services, or take over as pilot or crew, or watch over the safety of the ship and its occupants, and to ward off the evil spirits that they picture as sure to be encountered?

To me, this is just about as silly as the first country picnic to a friend’s home by some confirmed city dweller. They usually pack up everything that is loose and then try to take the kitchen sink and the water-closet along on a one day’s outing. Upon starting, they find there is no room for the family or the pets, and on arriving at their destination they discover that all that is needed is already available in ample quantity for a lengthy stay.

Excerpt from The People Of Clarion

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