RUDIMENTS 876.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 876

(interstellar travelers)

I may have mentioned all this

before, but it stands out to

me so vividly yet that I

write it again. One night,

it was bout 4am, and we'd

set out in my Volkswagen

Squareback, dark green,

wonderful car (bought for

800 bucks over the way

other side of Elmira, out

where the city withered

away and there were car

lots of dubious vintage),

making trip back to Jersey

and NYC (about 5 hours

off, comfortably). There

was a sudden, silent flash

across the sky, and it landed,

still in silence, in the far field

to our right, which would have 

been, at that point, the low,

farm country southeastward 

of Elmira. Now, yes, that

little part of the tale is both

plain and probably laughable

enough (to the non-believer),

but the cinch was, at about

the same time as whatever

this was landed, maybe a

half mile from us, in the 

open field, the car lost ALL 

power, shut down, no radio, 

no lights, no engine. Deserted

roadway right then, just us.

Nothing else happening. We

were stunned (wife, and 

sleeping 5-year old on the 

rear seat). Not knowing what

to do nor what had happened,

I suppose we just gaped, at

something we could not see.

There was no further activity,

no materialization of a craft

or space vehicle, no smoldering

wreckage, no trace. It probably

tool, all  told, 4 minutes, and

then everything went back to

normal  -  lights came back on,

radio again played, and the

car was, once again, running.

-

Amassing and recreating all this

later, we were quite sure to make

note of what had happened, and

the location and setting. We 

continued on our way (long trip

ahead of us), and, days later, upon

return, and after, we checked out

the area, as we could, walking

the brush, some  -  though it

wasn't really that accessible and

the only real, good, vantage was

from that highway-view angle, 

beyond the ranch type fence.

We never got to the bottom of

it, and eventually just let it go.

Since that time (this would have

been 1974, perhaps earliest Spring.

The remainder of my life since

those days, filled with many

other things, has always kept

this strange occurrence within its

background material. The reason

for that is that, frankly, I fully

believed in what I'd witnessed 

and because, as well, it fit in 

with all the concepts of life that 

I'd by then accepted. It was a 

reinforcement of my psychic 

beliefs, and I was not about to

turn them away because of a

lack of ground marks, burn 

marks or tunneled and smashed

up areas. Sometimes life is just 

greater than all that.

-

So if I say my life is an echo, I

hope you'll understand that. It's

as if I've always been reacting to

things instead of determining them.

Perhaps it's like that for everyone,

but I don't think so. All of my 

sidetracks have been deep and 

bizarre ones. Weirdness had

always, just maybe, been in the

wind for me. My first recollections

of things were unsettled to begin

with, and then proceeding out from

the train wreck, everything was

fused anew. It was as if I was that

guy, 'Beutel'  -  he used to have

a welding shop at the rear of his

house (still standing) as you enter

Clark. He was an old, hunch-back

guy, back in the 1960's, and his

welding skill was such that no matter

what you brought him  -  things 

which ranged from broken bicycle

frames, bad welds, swing sets that

had come apart, old parts, household

things  -  he was most always able 

to get it back to snuff, in 1960's

prices too, and willingly. Three

bucks was tops probably. His odd

situation of hunch, limp, and what

seemed liked a struggling 'frame'

actually held within a cool, gentle,

old guy. That's what I myself often

felt like, about myself  -  give me

any old broken junk of idea, I'll

make it work, and it will avoid

me all of the grief of interpersonal

dealings, bonhomie, and small talk.

I've seen fire come from the sky.

-

I was doing some reading the other

day and realized something I'd

forgotten. West Point. Up along 

the Hudson, West Point is still

in place, yes, but in thinking of

it I realized how cool a factor it

was that both Jefferson Davis, 

and Robert E. Lee had come 

out of there. As did Brigadier

General Gustave Tourant

Beauregard. In fact, Robert E.

Lee had been its Superintendent,

as also had Beauregard (for five

days), and later bombarded

Fort Sumter, to begin the war, 
and he also won at Bull Run.

It's all probably meaningless

in the long run of things, but

I always took it as a cool marker.

I've visited West Point a few times;

the first time was the worst. It

was right after one of those

horrible terrorist bombing deals,

the whole western world is on alert,

and here I come slow-driving to 

the guardhouse at West Point,

looking like your average Arab

terrorist and driving a large,

white van. They were all over

me in ten seconds. Step out of the

van, present your credentials, etc.

They searched the van from top to

bottom too, but let me back in,

and allowed entry. It's a cool place,

especially up at the far end where

there's a broad expanse and a vista

out over the Hudson, where they'd

come up with that 'Seven Chains'

fortification thing in the Revolutionary

War to keep the British flotilla out

of the upriver. There are cannons and

big armaments and story boards for

each. It seems there's always been,

early on anyway, an old West Point

tradition of capturing and displaying

here, a large cannon or some gun 

emplacement from each city or 

large place that the US Army has

'conquered' or taken, or whatever

they call it; I forget now. So, these

guns are arrayed everywhere there, 

looking out over the Hudson. It's an

oddly peaceful scene, actually.

How that could be always baffles

me. It's a lot like that field onto

which an uncontrolled blast of

light came down from the sky,

shut everything down, and then

left not a trace, and turned it all

back on. Weird.