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Montauk Project: New Film Takes On Mind Control, Time Travel And Alien Encounter

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Kristin Moore
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« Reply #30 on: October 03, 2011, 08:20:03 pm »

By the late 1970s at Montauk, furthermore, very advanced experimentation was undertaken in the controlled "warping" of space and time, utilizing some of Tesla's (long since dead), Von Neumann's and others' ideas and inventions. Tremendously powerful electrical currents flowing in specific configurations generated electromagnetic fields which created in effect a working "Tipler cylinder".

To simplify once more, psychics were again utilized to visualize and stabilize a target destination in a different time/space dimension which the vortex would then be focused upon. The Tipler cylinder, a concept formulated by the aforementioned physicist Frank Tipler, is presently one of the most widely accepted theoretical models in quantum physics of how to create an artificial, controllable "black hole", thereby achieving time-space and dimensional shifting and even the ability to effect alterations and manipulations of our time-space continuum.

Some of this sounds quite exciting, amazing, even wonderful, and certainly in some ways it probably is. However, to a great extent such activities were and are done with absolutely no regard for the effects on the people experimented upon; furthermore, this work is done with the full intention of using the knowledge and capabilities gained to more thoroughly and completely subjugate humanity with ever-more-powerful and pervasive control of our consciousness: in fact, and literally if we remember Von Neumann's Proof, "reality engineering".

According to Nichols, an unquestionably brilliant radio- electronics engineer who worked often in the Montauk Project in an altered state of mind while simultaneously employed by Brookhaven National Labs (such alternate awareness can be achieved with variations of psychotronic technologies) -- and also according to other first-hand participants in certain of these experiments -- some of the youngsters abducted and so viciously abused in these activities died as a result and were buried en masse on site! The human tragedy attested to here begins to rival such indelible atrocities as the Pol-Pot massacres or Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen in its horror and brutality. The fact that this was done to American children on American soil by agencies connected, however tenuously, to our government is virtually unimaginable; yet as we have discovered, many of the assertions made by Phoenix/Montauk investigators have been checked out and verified.

As mentioned, the Montauk Project crashed and burned in August 1983, sabotaged from within by certain key participants who could no longer tolerate what was going on. A time tunnel type link- up with the Philadelphia Experiment exactly forty years previously (August 12, 1943) was allegedly achieved then -- apparently an attempt by project operators to repair or undo damage they felt had been done to the time-space continuum during the 1943 experiment; thereafter, the project ended temporarily, as described, with the surface of the property being then donated to N.Y. State.
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Kristin Moore
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« Reply #31 on: October 03, 2011, 08:20:21 pm »

Postscript - John A. Quinn

When I wrote my report, I intentionally focused for the most part on information which was not of a personal nature, with a few exceptions. This was for a couple of reasons. For one thing, I wanted to be as objective as possible and not come across as a "partisan" or in any way biased. Also, there may have been some fear of linking myself personally to the Project.

In fact I have had at least two very vivid and clearly anomalous personal events in my past connected to this location near Montauk Point. These have made me realize that there was something very peculiar about the location directly related to myself -- something completely at odds with my own conscious personal history as well as with my impressions and knowledge of the vicinity.

Additionally, during my personal investigation into the "Montauk Project" and related matters, some very peculiar events and circumstances occurred that I did not originally include in the main body of my report. I will now relate this material.

I spent a good percentage of the first 18-20 years of my life in the general vicinity of Montauk, and thus was quite intrigued by the title of the first of the Montauk Project books (The Montauk Project -- Experiments in Time) after seeing it by chance in a small bookstore nearly 3 years ago.

When I began reading the book I experienced a strong shock of recognition upon seeing the photo of the base's SAGE radar dish on page 23. Without doubt, I knew I had seen that ominous-looking edifice sometime in the not too distant past (perhaps 5-12 years previously).

However, I was puzzled by the fact that in all the time I spent in that area I never had the slightest idea that any such facility as Camp Hero or Montauk Air Force Station even existed. Absolutely none. I knew that I had never been there -- certainly not while in any normally conscious state of mind. Yet I also knew I had seen that radar dish from a pretty close vantage point -- maybe a couple of hundred feet away at most.

I explained this apparent discrepancy to myself by postulating that the radar dish was at the extreme eastern end of the base, near to the lighthouse, which is basically the only area of Montauk Point where I had ever spent any time at all. I had never done any substantial hiking around the area. As my family did not own a car, our trips to the lighthouse were quite infrequent, usually only when a friend or relative with a vehicle was visiting us.

It was only after a day trip to Montauk Point during a 1995 stay with family in East Hampton, that I realized that in fact the SAGE radar dish is nowhere near the lighthouse. It's a good mile away over rolling terrain and not visible at all from most of the lighthouse area, and my clear and solid memory of seeing the dish from up close could not possibly be explained as having occurred during one of my relatively few trips to the lighthouse.

While I was at Camp Hero/Montauk Air Force Station that day, April 7 1995, accompanied by my wife and two year old child, some very bizarre incidents took place, as they did on a couple of subsequent visits.
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Kristin Moore
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« Reply #32 on: October 03, 2011, 08:20:39 pm »

We approached Camp Hero along Old Montauk Highway, an abandoned roadway which is little more than rubble in most spots, running along the top of the bluffs above the Atlantic shore from the lighthouse through the so called "fisherman's parking lot", past Camp Hero on the south (ocean) side, and connecting with the new highway about two miles west of the point. The (outer) perimeter fencing marking the boundary of Camp Hero is broken down in many spots, and at a spot due south of the SAGE radar dish, we entered a large break in the fencing on a clear and well-travelled footpath. No signs of any kind were posted in this area. We progressed through another broken down fence, which marks the "inner" perimeter of Montauk Air Force Station, also unposted with any signs, and walked along the base roads to the radar dish.

We spent a little while there during which time I checked the radar dish out of vantage points in an attempt to recreate the image in my memory. I couldn't find the exact view I remembered but a number of buildings are partly or completely demolished right around there so that could be a factor. The dish itself, however seemed quite familiar.

We were just leaving the area when suddenly a late model blue pickup truck approached our direction on a road running parallel to the one we were on. The truck screeched to a halt as soon as the driver spotted us. I immediately smiled and waved, and we stopped walking. The driver was obviously checking us out, although he was about a hundred yards away and I couldn't see very clearly. I just smiled and waved again, and we began walking away from the truck back the way we had come, toward the shore, trying to act as innocent and innocuous as possible. The truck then took off.

I must mention that on this and all subsequent visits to Camp Hero/ Montauk Air Force Station I was struck by the overwhelmingly creepy, unpleasant and eerie feeling around the entire facility, as my wife was also. Both of felt strongly that we were being watched the entire time we were in or near the base, and we continually heard rustling in the dense, nearly impenetrable bushes and undergrowth around the property. In addition, several deer literally followed us for long stretches, seeming not just unafraid but almost aggressive. Very strange and quite unlike the behavior of any other deer I've ever been near in my life. There was another rather unsettling incident involving a deer which I will come to shortly.

Two days later, on Sunday April 9, we returned to Montauk Air Force Station to look around the base some more. We went to another part of the base north of the radar dish, where a number of relatively intact buildings still stand. We noticed some children playing atop a red and white transmitter tower (not the radar dish), which is about 75 feet tall and right next to a building where a State Parks Police officer lives (though I didn't know that at the moment).

Walking toward this tower, two cars pulled up to a flat topped, white cinder block structure, and about ten people piled out of the cars. One fellow was distinctly older; the rest, mostly male, appeared to be about 18-22 years old. We passed close by the older fellow and he and I said hello to each other. He then walked to the cinder block building with some of the group while the rest of them milled around the cars and the building.

We continued toward the tower where the kids were still playing and as we approached we saw a State Parks Police car, so we turned around. Going back toward the two cars that had just arrived I saw another man approaching from the direction of the old mess hall and traffic circle. He was pushing a cloth, sling-type baby stroller with large wheels, and my immediate impression was that there was no baby in it.

There seemed to be almost no weight in the stroller and he was pushing it roughly and quite fast. He bent down and fiddled with something in the stroller which appeared to be a backpack under a blanket, then went to the door of the white cinder block building and talked to the older fellow who had just driven up. After this the man with stroller continued on in the direction he had been going, passing within a few feet of us. We made eye contact and nodded in acknowledgement. I then began talking to one of the younger fellows who was still standing near the cars, asking half- jokingly if they were doing the "Montauk Project tour". He said he had no idea what was going on around there (not that I asked him if he did!), and that his uncle Charlie had some things stored in the white cinder block building but that it was constantly being broken into.

The group came out of the cinder block building, and the older guy, who was obviously the group leader, addressed everyone. He said he would show them where he used to live. Both my wife and I clearly heard him say this. I then said to this man that there was a police car parked over that way, just in case it mattered to him. The stroller was only about 100 feet away, and the instant he heard me make the comment about the police, he quickly turned around and came running towards me, while pulling the stroller behind him. Obviously he didn't want us to see into the stroller.
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« Reply #33 on: October 03, 2011, 08:20:59 pm »

He then began to scream at the top of his lungs things like "you bet there's a cop car there, and I can get him right now and have you arrested! What are you doing here? This area is completely off limits to the public," and so on in the same vein. I asked him what the problem was. I said that all the maps show this to be a State Park. I asked what was going on around the area, and said as well that we saw no signs indicating the area was restricted, and why should it be so restricted? He kept yelling and screaming at us, saying that I was lying about the signs as he had put them up himself. I then mentioned that I had been hearing a lot of things about the area recently, and he went nuts again, screaming that anything I had heard was a bunch of lies! I never even said what it was I had heard.

Finally my wife asked him to please calm down as we both (?) had children with us. He said, "look, he's arguing with me, he's arguing with me", and then he ran off, never going to get the police after all that. I continued to make challenging comments and every time I did he'd turn around, come back and yell in my face with the baby stroller held behind him, then turn and run away. This was some of the most bizarre behavior I'd ever seen. He soon got away from us and as far as we could tell he just disappeared. We were at a place where there was a clear view in all directions and he was nowhere to be seen. It's also clear that he didn't have a baby in the stroller; he was pushing it very roughly and was constantly trying to keep us from seeing into it. During our last exchange I was able to get a peek into the stroller and I saw what looked like a doll, mostly covered with a blanket, and a pack.

I spoke to Preston Nichols later and told him of our experience. He was very interested and said the individual I had encountered with the stroller was most likely Donald Balcuns, officially a State Parks vehicle maintenance worker who is actually a base security guard. Nichols explained that Balcuns had been responsible for getting himself and two others arrested and charged with trespassing in a restricted area, when they weren't even within the inner (restricted) perimeter.

After speaking with Nichols, I looked up the name Donald Balcuns in the phone book and called him. I explained who I was and that we had just had a big argument earlier that day at Camp Hero, and said I wanted to clarify a few things. Balcuns never missed a beat, and never asked me how I got his name or number. I told Balcuns that I used to live in the area and wanted to check out the relatively new state park property, and that in fact we really didn't see any signs the way we entered the base. I asked him why the area was restricted to the public. Balcuns said that there are toxic materials all around and also that the buildings keep getting vandalized so they have to keep people out.
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« Reply #34 on: October 03, 2011, 08:21:11 pm »

Why these toxic materials and buildings are even there if it has been State Park property for so many years was not explained. Balcuns also said that he had been driving the blue pickup truck on Friday and had seen me and my family near the SAGE radar dish then. It was during this and a later conversation where Balcuns replied affirmatively to my questions as to whether he was an employee of Montauk Air Force Station, officially closed some 26 years previously. Interestingly enough, even after Balcun's became aware that I was a "trespasser" at Camp Hero, he in fact made no move to evict me or call in law enforcement.

In my conversation with Nichols I also described the events involving the two carloads of people who pulled up to the cinder block building on the base, previous to the blowout with Balcuns. Nichols and Moon both told me that they had met the man who was storing things in that building, that his name was Tom Costello ran the bar and restaurant at Montauk Downs State Park, about three miles west toward Montauk village. They had encountered him on one of their forays into the base, and he told Nichols and Moon he had been using the building for several years to store some possessions. There was just one problem -- the description they gave for Tom Costello didn't match that of "Uncle Charlie" at all, and I'll return to this point in a moment.

I was getting a bit bent out of shape at running into all these hassles for going onto property which is supposed to be for public use. I was very curious why children were running around this supposedly highly toxic and hazardous area and were not in any way accosted or told to leave by Balcuns or anyone else. It was becoming more and more obvious that there was something very fishy about the entire setup. Also curious was the fact that much of neighborhood where Balcuns lives, which used to be base housing, has direct, unrestricted access to Camp Hero, as does a baseball field nearby. I decided to return to the area with the purpose of trying to stir things up and get some answers, or at least some kind of reaction.

First I went to the baseball field just east of Balcun's neighborhood and apparently leased to East Hampton Township. I videotaped the two roads which enter Camp Hero from this field and are locked and posted with no trespassing signs, as well as a stretch of the Camp Hero boundary in between these roads where there is no fencing of any kind ( never mind any no entry signs) for what appears to be at least 500 feet. Children or anyone else can walk right into Camp Hero from the field. What better way to entice kids into an area than to mark it restricted in spots but leave it literally wide open along so much of the perimeter?
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« Reply #35 on: October 03, 2011, 08:21:30 pm »

During this time my wife and I noticed an extremely large deer about fifty feet down one of the gated entry roads within Camp Hero. This animal was almost totally black or dark brown. I have never seen such a darkly colored deer.

It stood still, watching us for some time, and I must say it was a very spooky feeling emanating from this deer. We looked away for an instant and when we looked toward it again it had vanished. After the other incidents with the deer several days previously, I was coming to the tentative conclusion that some of the deer in the area were being somehow utilized by Project operatives as spies, perhaps by being implanted, controlled and monitored; my theory is that the animals' sensory data can be picked up and made accessible to base personnel for security purposes. Nichols told me that this is certainly within the realm of possibility.

We then went to the area where Mr. Balcuns lives. Here we videotaped open and unlocked gates leading into Camp Hero as well as other areas with no fencing at all. We also observed children riding bikes within the perimeter of the restricted area. Neither Balcuns nor any other security personnel accosted them or interfered with them in any way. There were no signs of any kind in the entire neighborhood prohibiting entry to this so called restricted area! In fact we saw paths which led from private yards directly into Montauk Air Force Station.

As I was videotaping one of these paths in a backyard on Lincoln Avenue, a man in the yard of the house next door was watching us and scowling while talking rapidly into a portable phone. At this point a woman came out of the house whose yard I was filming, and the man with the portable phone approached me, still talking into his phone. The woman asked why I was filming her house and I replied that I was filming the woods behind her house and the path that led into the woods (Camp Hero property).

She asked why, and I said that I didn't wish to tell her, and that I was standing on public property. Apparently I had inadvertently put one foot on the driveway of the house, and at that point the man next door went completely nuts and started screaming at me at the top of his lungs (there seems to be a lot of that around there). He said I was trespassing that he was calling the police immediately. I took my foot off the driveway and told him to go ahead and call. Things were getting a bit heated. I said loudly that I was a citizen of the United States and I had a right to be on any public street any time and this jerk better not get in my way. He then chilled a bit and told the woman to get our license plate number, which she did. I finished my taping and we drove off.

Our next stop was Montauk Downs State Park, where we were going to try to find either Tom Costello or "Uncle Charlie" and figure out what that whole business was about. We found Charlie working the bar at Montauk Downs. There were a couple of guys in there, and Charlie consistently tried to avoid making eye contact with me. After the others left, I said hello to Charlie, and mentioned that we'd seen him at Camp Hero two days before. He then admitted he recognized me, commenting that "that guy" (Balcuns) really "went nuts on me" the other day. Charlie added that "they" have lots of problems with Balcuns, but didn't state who "they" were.

I then attempted to get Charlie to elaborate on why there was such high security at the facility, but he just gave the increasingly bogus-sounding story about toxicity, vandalism etc. As Charlie continued he said that he had stored personal possessions in the flat topped, white cinder block building at Camp Hero for a number of years, and it was a big hassle because it was constantly being broken into. One would certainly have to wonder why he would continue using the building.
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« Reply #36 on: October 03, 2011, 08:21:50 pm »

The most bizarre aspect of all this is that Charlie did not fit the description of Tom Costello, didn't claim to be him, and was obviously not Tom Costello; yet according to information I received, it was Costello who had run the restaurant and bar at Montauk Downs for a number of years and used the Camp Hero building for storage! I subsequently discovered that Costello's phone, (address listed as Fairview Drive, right near Montauk Downs State Park) had been disconnected. I ed Montauk Downs, asking for Tom Costello, and was connected to -- you guessed it -- Charlie. Not only did this guy get Tom Costello's job but also apparently at least some of Costello's memories.

As we were sitting at the bar, I told Charlie that my wife and I had heard him tell his group of young people that he used to live at Camp Hero. His response was immediate and unequivocal. He denied it completely! There is no possibility that we misunderstood him two days previously at the base.

Returning home from Montauk that evening, we were pulled over by an East Hampton Town Police officer who passed us going the other direction, made a rapid U-turn and stopped and detained us for a good half hour. They had gotten a report about the incident earlier at Lincoln Avenue, and our car fit the description of this "suspicious" vehicle. It was almost dark and there was certainly no shortage of red compacts on the road, so apparently this fairly minor incident of about four hours previous was considered a rather high priority!

I relayed my version of the Lincoln Avenue events to the young officer, including the fact that I was standing on a public street and had a perfect right to film trees if I wanted to. I told him that I grew up in the area and had moved away, and was visiting my family. I also said that I had been running into all kinds of problems in the vicinity of what was to me a new State Park facility and that I was getting pretty irritated about it. I even mentioned that I'd been filming open accesses to this "restricted" area.

What was restricted, and for whom? And why? At this point another police car arrived, so it seems I was considered to be at least somewhat of a risk. An older cop got out who wanted to hear the entire story as well. He then told us that almost all of Camp Hero "State Park" was restricted to the public. He actually even used the word "private". Since when is State Park property private? He went on with the usual spiel about toxicity and what not, and said that our best bet go past the "fisherman's gate" on Old Montauk Highway, way up near the lighthouse. I knew that was complete bulls--t.

After no doubt running my license and other information through every data bank they could possibly think of, they let me go as they of course had nothing on me.

I decided after this that it wouldn't be such a good idea to get myself cited and/or arrested for trespassing at Camp Hero as I needed to return to California soon, but I figured I'd still keep trying to shake things up. I went to the Town Police headquarters a few days later, to get their file on the Lincoln Avenue incident. I told them I was considering pressing charges against the individual with the portable phone for making threats against me and my family.
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« Reply #37 on: October 03, 2011, 08:22:07 pm »

The police advised me to be careful about that as I in turn could be charged with false arrest if my claims proved unfounded. Upon going over the incident with my wife we decided that we had not been overtly threatened with physical harm, although the insinuations were made. However the other incident involving Balcuns seemed a clear violation of State Park rules, and was a very disturbing and threatening experience for me and my family.

Pursuing that line, I called New York State Park Police headquarters in Babylon and told the officer who answered the phone about the Camp Hero incident. As soon as I mentioned the area, I heard a recording device activate on their end. Once the officer heard my story, he told me that as far as he knew Balcun's superior was a man named George Larsen, superintendent of all the Montauk area state parks. He clearly stated that State Parks Police would not have any authority in this matter, despite the fact that Balcuns was obviously acting as a security guard at Camp Hero.

My next move was to meet personally with George Larsen at his Montauk Downs office and relate the entire incident to him in great detail. However, before going to see Larsen I had another conversation with Donald Balcuns , in which I asked him who his superior at Montauk Air Force Station was. Once again he never corrected me about working for the technically long-defunct Montauk Air Force Station, and he declined to name his superior.

In my meeting with George Larsen I omitted any references to the Montauk Project but simply told him the facts of my encounter and the extremely bizarre and disturbing incident with Balcuns. I was officially registering a major complaint, including the fact this State Park property was restricted to the public at all, and also that long stretches of the perimeter of this area had no fencing of any kind nor any signs indicating that it is in fact restricted.

Larsen did the same old routine about dangerous conditions, toxicity and so forth. I asked why conditions were still thus if the property had belonged to New York State for (at the time) over eleven years. Larsen said that funds were currently very tight in the Parks system, although I was aware that Montauk Downs and Montauk Point State Parks have recently had some fairly substantial renovations and sprucing up. Larsen also said that Camp Hero is used by cultists and the like for strange ceremonies, and that human blood had been found at the SAGE radar dish tower(?)!

Larsen said he was taking note of my complaint and would bring it to the attention of Balcun's superior! I was told by the State Parks Police that Larsen was Balcun's superior. Now Larsen was indicating this was not the case. Something was extremely peculiar about all this.

I called Larsen back the next day and told him that though I appreciated the meeting with him, I was completely unhappy with the entire situation as was the rest of my family, and that we were going to pursue legal action. I said that my attorney needed the name of Balcun's superior. Now contradicting his statement the day before, Larsen hurriedly said, "There are many levels of hierarchy here. I have 65 people under me and there are different divisions and so forth, but ultimately I am Balcun's superior!"

I then told Larsen that Balcun's had (pas ntified himself to me on a few occasions as an employee of Montauk Air Force Station, and asked whether Larsen could explain this convoluted business. At this point he got completely flustered, as I noted earlier in the main body of this report, referred me to the State Parks legal department, and hung up.

Preston Nichols, upon hearing of these events, interpreted things as follows. According to Nichols the fact that Balcuns, obviously a federally employed security guard at Camp Hero with a cover title of equipment mechanic and maintenance worker for the State Parks system, had seen me within the restricted area two separate times and did nothing about it meant that he recognized me in some way or other, or believed (or knew!) that I was allowed to be there, that I was in fact "one of the crew".

Only after he heard my comment to "Uncle Charlie" about the police car did he apparently realize I was an "intruder" who was not "authorized" to be on the property. According to Nichols, this seems to indicate that I could have been involved in the "Project" in some capacity, or that I could currently be so involved. While Nichols could well be right, I also feel that I was projecting a very confident and strong energy during the visits to Camp Hero. To me, the land at Montauk Point, Turtle Cove and Camp Hero belongs irrefutably to the Montauk Indians, and neither New York State Parks nor the federal government have any right to bar anyone from this property.

The entire legal situation regarding Camp Hero and the administration thereof is highly unusual, bizarre, and in some respects quite ludicrous. There is no doubt whatsoever that the official cover story about the location is completely full of holes. Major inroads in terms of breaking the story open could be made from this angle alone. Aside from the Montauk Indians' totally rightful claim to the property, the land was turned over to New York State for the use of its people many years ago.

Residents of East Hampton Township, New York State and the Unites States General should be asking why this property continues to be off-limits to the public. In my estimate, nearly 75 percent of Camp Hero State Park is unusable by the public. I know for a fact that the demolition of buildings and removal of toxic materials could be accomplished in a vastly shorter amount of time than eleven years.

There are some other peculiar facts about Camp Hero I would like to mention. My wife and I went out there very early one morning, and parked off (new) Montauk Highway at the intersection of the main entrance road into Camp Hero, and we observed a vehicle exiting this supposedly derelict and closed facility at about 5:30 AM and it wasn't the State Park Police either. We were also both acutely aware of a distinct and pervasive throbbing, humming sound which emanated from the general vicinity of Montauk Air Force Station; without doubt the sound of heavy machinery being operated. This was clearly audible in the general calm and quiet of the early morning. Needless to say, no such functional machinery is located anywhere on this property, on the surface that is.
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« Reply #38 on: October 03, 2011, 08:22:22 pm »

I also visited the location on my own several months later. The so called "fisherman's parking lot" which is quite close to the lighthouse was half filled with a tremendous amount of huge boulders. The lot had been completely empty of any such boulders the last time I was there. Nichols and other investigators have commented on the fact that large numbers of such huge boulders periodically show up near Montauk Point, and are often then moved into position with heavy equipment to fortify point itself from the undeniably extensive erosion which does occur there. (The lighthouse used to be several hundred feet from the point; it's now virtually right at the point.) The curious thing is that no one seems to know how these boulders arrive at Montauk. No trucks are ever seen bringing them in, no barges ever unload them at the point. Where then do they come from? They obviously must originate on site, and since they are not being quarantined the surface they can only come from underground.

I also did some investigation into the "Montauk Tower" building in the village of Montauk, said by Nichols and other investigators to be used in Montauk Project activities and to be connected via underground tunnels to other clandestine facilities in the area. I went to the location with my wife (and child) and instantly found some peculiarities. We went into the lobby of the building, which has ostensibly been converted to condominium apartments, and copied down some of the names off the intercom.

I was struck by the fact that there were no mailboxes anywhere in, on or around the building for "residents" to receive their mail, which is certainly quite strange. We tried buzzing a few of the bells to gain entry, but there was no response. While snooping about the building, we also noticed that there was a separate entrance apparently leading to the basement of building, which was thoroughly locked. For a building which supposedly had at least 40 units in it, there were very few cars in the parking lot, as has been the case every time I've ever looked in the lot while in the area.

Upon leaving the building we encountered a Suffolk County Water Authority meter reader, who asked us if we lived there. We replied negatively, saying we were calling on a friend who wasn't home. The fellow told us that the building presented a constant problem as the water meter was not accessible to him; he had never been able to read the meter, and was never able to raise anyone inside the building to let him in!

This from an employee of the county government! Astonished, my wife subsequently contacted the Suffolk County Water Authority, asking them what they were doing about this very bizarre situation. As my mother is a resident of the area who pays water bills, I was rather disturbed and puzzled on this issue alone; no matter who (or what) was occupying the Montauk Tower, they didn't have to pay for their water!

The response from county personnel was a masterpiece of fuzzy meaningless mush that said nothing at all. They tried repeatedly to deflect our questioning about the ownership of the building, etc., saying that was confidential information. They stated that they do receive payment for water usage at the location, but would not indicate from whom, nor how any such bill can be paid if the amount owed cannot be determined. I believe that county personnel deliberately obfuscated the truth about this matter.

My wife and I looked up the names we got off the intercom at the Montauk Tower, but could only find several of them listed. Also, most of these had no address listed, only P.O. boxes. We called the numbers we found and got an answer at just one. The woman who answered said that she was the manager of the building, and mentioned that her husband ran a restaurant in Montauk village. We said that I had just moved back to the area with my family and were looking for a residence to buy. We inquired whether any of the units were for sale, as we liked the downtown location. The woman gave us the name of one of the residents who was selling their condo on the third floor, as they had moved to another dwelling.
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« Reply #39 on: October 03, 2011, 08:22:36 pm »

Later, checking the local real estate listings, we did find a two other condos listed for sale, one by the owner, the other by a real estate agency in Montauk. As it turned out the privately advertised condo was being handled by the same agency as the other listed unit, so we had an agent at that office show us the two units. One was on the first floor and one was on the sixth floor. There is a so called penthouse unit above the sixth floor which we were repeatedly told had recently been purchased by an elderly woman. (This was where Preston Nichols was taken to meet with numerous Air Force officials in August 1995. No elderly woman was part of that event.)

The first floor apartment was basically a long, rather narrow unit with only one large window facing south. There were no other windows, and the overall effect was quite claustrophobia-inducing. Why this agent would state that it was just right for us, with a two year old child, is beyond me.

She then took us up to the sixth floor unit and here's where things really got odd. Both my wife and I (and maybe our little boy too!) were thoroughly disoriented upon exiting the elevator on the sixth floor. The entire layout was completely different than the first floor; the walls and hallways were at very odd angles to the elevator entrance; everything seemed out of kilter. The apartment, though not as confining as the other, was laid out in a very strange way. One of the "bedrooms" was little more than a closet and part of it was cut off by an angled, sloping wall which severely restricted the space. The real estate agent told us it was because of some stairway which led to the penthouse, although there was no indication of any such stairway outside the apartment.

The agent kept telling us how good either unit would be for us, an obvious absurdity. When leaving this apartment we were again very puzzled by the layout of the sixth floor and couldn't really figure out what was where in relation to the main (external) structure of the building. It definitely seemed as though there was a substantial amount of space unaccounted for on this floor. We made a point to ask the real estate agent what was in the basement of building and whether it was accessible to the occupants. We received no clear reply.

We then contacted the party who was selling the third floor apartment and made an appointment to see it. Although the layout of the third floor was different than that of the other two floors we had seen it was not bizarre or disorienting. The fellow was quite friendly and seemed, as did the real estate agent, quite sure that the place was just right for us and that we would really like to live there. We asked him about the basement, about what was down there and so forth and once again received no clear answer.

Several days later, while videotaping the outside of the tower building, my wife and I both saw a face appear in a window adjacent to the sixth floor hallway in front of the elevator, which should have been the small bedroom we had just recently seen, yet there was no such window in the bedroom! We could easily figure this out by counting the number of windows visible from the outside and comparing it to the windows in the apartment! There is no doubt of this fact, and this proves that there is "hidden space" in this building.

There is another thing worth mentioning about this building. A year later in April 1996 I decided to rustle through the building's garbage dumpster to see what might turn up. There was virtually no typical household refuse. The dumpster was mostly filled with cardboard boxes and other shipping and packing materials, and the remnants of a number of takeout meals. Of particular interest was a good sized shipping carton addressed to a Ceil Roth, which is the name of the Air Force colonel who met with Preston Nichols in the penthouse unit during August 1995. This box was sent from an underwater construction corporation based in San Diego California.

A final note -- the roof of this building is literally a good-sized antenna farm, bristling with an astonishing number of antennae of all shapes and sizes, and I'm not talking about TV antennae or ordinary satellite dishes.
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« Reply #40 on: October 03, 2011, 08:22:52 pm »

It's also worthy of mention that upon my return to my California residence after the 1995 trip, and continuing to this day, I began receiving numerous bizarre phone calls, sometimes several a day, in which there is nothing but "dead air" on the other end. This went on even after we had our number changed to an unlisted number.

There is one other peculiar incident in my past I can call to mind concerning this location.

My father worked in NYC journalism for many years, and during most of the 1970s was feature editor for The NY Daily News. Some time in the mid-1970s before I moved to California, my family went to East Hampton for the weekend.

I would have been about 20-22 years old. We lived at that time mainly in Queens, but spent much time on eastern Long Island. My father had mentioned to me before we arrived in East Hampton that he really wanted me to accompany him and a colleague, Pat O'Haire, the next morning (Saturday) to visit some fellow living in Ditch Plains ( a neighborhood roughly halfway between Montauk village and Camp Hero on the Atlantic shore), whom they were apparently going to interview, I guess for The Daily News. I was never totally clear on the reason they were visiting him, let alone why it was so imperative that I go along!

My dad seemed to think this was a really interesting and fascinating person with some very newsworthy information to impart. He stressed several times that he really wanted me to go with them. The next morning my father again reiterated how much he wanted me to accompany him and Pat O'Haire (who lived (lives) in Montauk), and after a call from my dad Ms. O'Haire drove from Montauk to pick us up and bring us to this man's place in Ditch Plains. It was a rather wintry and gloomy day I recall.

Upon arriving at this man's "house" I was immediately struck by its uncharacteristically (for Montauk and East Hampton Township) drab and plain appearance, and its somewhat unusual cement construction. As best I can recall this man had a Germanic name. Inside, this rather elderly (maybe 55-60), ex- military seeming man quickly engaged my father and Pat in a fairly animated conversation in which he basically pilloried the federal income tax system and the IRS. Now it doesn't take a genius to figure that is a subject on which you are going to get a definite and strong response from virtually anybody -- there aren't too many people, especially among the middle class, who wouldn't get on board that train pretty quickly (the anti-IRS express). I was half- listening, but not too involved. I picked up something about this man I didn't like, I couldn't figure out yet why it was so important for me to go along, and I was feeling a bit bored and uncomfortable.

They went into a little study or office and I started looking around this fellow's living room, whereupon I saw at least a few publications of radical (and racist) right wing groups, indicating this man's politics were diametrically opposed certainly to mine and pretty much to my father's also.
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« Reply #41 on: October 03, 2011, 08:23:08 pm »

The whole point of us -- especially me--being there escaped me, and I found the literature in the living room very upsetting, disturbing and distasteful. There was something very weird about the house too. It just didn't feel like a house. Most home construction in that area is wood frame, with certain exceptions -- especially in newer construction. This was definitely not new, yet obviously not very old as it was cement and cinder block. It was also pretty small, one story and basically very square, with the interior divided into a living room, the study, a kitchen and bedroom in the rear which I never saw, and what looked like a small closet.

After milling around outside for few minutes, where I was again struck by the rather peculiar architectural style of the building, in a part of the country where such things are often commented on and talked about (sometimes to a very tedious degree), I went back in and started making major eye signals at my dad to get the hell out of there. I was really feeling bent out of shape, had nothing in common with this person, couldn't imagine why anyone wanted me to come there, found his politics very disturbing, and I wanted to GO!

My dad responded to me and the three of them came out of the study into the living room, at which point, out of politeness, I made some brief small talk with the man we were visiting. Mainly, I was very curious about his house and said so. I said I thought it was rather unusual, I couldn't place the period or style of construction, that it didn't really feel or look like a house built for a family, etc. I can't recall exactly how he responded, but he pointed out the other rooms toward the rear. At that point I either asked him about the small rectangular protrusion right next to me which seemed to be a closet, or else he pointed it out. I recall him opening the door, and saying that it actually was a stairway that went to the basement. At this point something strange happened but I can't completely remember what. I'm certain he said something about the basement that was very strange, very unusual, that just seemed really odd -- but my memory fails me here. Now what could be strange about a basement? Well, it must be different in some way from what one would expect: either more or less somehow than what a basement would normally be. My strong feeling is that he said the basement was in fact connected to or part of a tunnel system. I can't find in my mind any clear and solid memory of what occurred immediately after he pointed out the stairway.

The rest of my memories of this event are nil. Later in the day we got driven back to East Hampton and it was quite late. I was also feeling pretty low and depressed.

It seems that we definitely arrived back home later than one would expect, as we went out to Ditch Plains certainly before noon, and I remember quite well how I couldn't handle being there at all. I think it was at most about forty-five minutes to an hour until I started signaling my dad to leave.

I've looked for this location more than a few times in recent years, and just couldn't find it. I am certain that we went to the Ditch Plains area, but I found nothing there that looked similar. Finally, when I was visiting my family again in April of 1996, I had a breakthrough. There was an article in the local paper about a tract of land in Montauk known as Shadmoor, which was being bought by the federal government from the owner/developer who had been refused permission to develop the land for at least ten years.

The article went on to say that this property was originally an extension of Camp Hero, and that the only remaining structures on it were two military buildings, actually machine-gun nests, built to look like private residences. This area was bought by a developer but the Town of East Hampton (the hamlet of Montauk within East Hampton Township) refused to allow him to build on the property, almost certainly due to pressure from certain federal agencies, and now the Federal government was buying the land outright and designating it a Nature Preserve, forever "safe" from any development or other private use.

This story really piqued my interest, as it was about the only stretch of coastline I hadn't yet checked in my efforts to ascertain where the house we had visited some 20 years ago actually was.
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« Reply #42 on: October 03, 2011, 08:23:30 pm »

I went to Shadmoor, which is directly west of the Ditch Plains public bathhouse and parking lot, and found there what very much appeared to be the filled-in and subsequently partly caved-in foundations/basements of three structures which were no longer standing. Without doubt, this was the area where the man we had visited lived, but the "houses" were now gone. Obviously, it was not a real house this man had lived in as I had correctly intuited at the time, but was some kind of military building. As this entire property was actually part of Camp Hero it's now known that it was connected to the main base via tunnels. Given the time frame of our visit, this man was undoubtedly engaged in some kind of activity connected to the Montauk Project which had then recently gotten in full swing. Apparently, I was part of that activity, that day.

I may never be able to find out too much more as my father died nine years ago, and his former colleague Pat O'Haire has not returned my calls.

I have the racial and genetic background which has apparently proved desirable to the operators of the Montauk/Phoenix Project(s) -- blue-eyed and light haired, with lots of German blood on both sides, and Celtic (Irish) on my father's side.

As I'm most certainly not a scientist, quantum or particle physicist, radio-electronics genius, ex-military-intelligence operative, or anything remotely like any of those, the question would be -- for what purpose could I possibly have been inducted (or is that abducted?) into the Montauk Project? Given that probably tens of thousands of youngsters of varying ages have been and are being (usually unwittingly) conscripted for "use" in virtually all phases and aspects of this Project and numerous other clandestine projects (I'd think from dishwashers and sanitation workers to particle physicists and everything in between -- the Montauk underground is in fact an underground city), there may be no way to say for certain how I may have been used. As there is such severe psychological and spiritual manipulation and abuse involved in the programming of conscripted victims, in addition to deliberate memory-tampering and other mind-wiping procedures, there may be no way to say for certain if I was so used at all.

It's conceivable and I think likely that inductees are scanned and evaluated for any particular abilities which they possess and are shunted accordingly into corresponding functions at the Montauk base. If that were to be the case, then very likely my talents, skills and abilities would probably be strongest in two fields: writing and music composition, and perhaps these talents (or others) were taken advantage of and utilized by Project administrators. I also think I might possess a bit of so-called "psychic" ability -- maybe more than I'm aware of. According to Preston Nichols, popular music has been used extensively by the operators of the Montauk Project as a tool for influencing the "collective unconscious" if you will; in particular that of the younger generation.

Nichols states that state-of-the-art recording facilities and psycho- acoustic techniques were utilized to "insert" subliminal programming into popular music which can trigger certain responses and changes in awareness; also that time-travel technology enabled this to be implemented both in the past as well as the present (and presumably the future too).

Music was and is considered a very powerful and effective way to access the deeper emotional and instinctual levels of consciousness, and contemporary popular music has been thoroughly by intelligence agencies, secret societies and (secret) governments to that end. Such infiltration and subversion of other forms of communication and entertainment including television networks, the motion picture industry and the news media in general has been explored and documented, but I guess it's a bit of a shock for personal reasons to realize that contemporary music has not escaped such a fate. Mr. Nichols has further stated as well that, once again, the Mafia has worked and is working hand in glove with intelligence agencies in such operations involving mass communications.

http://www.crystalinks.com/montauk1.html
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Kristin Moore
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« Reply #43 on: October 03, 2011, 08:24:13 pm »

http://www.crystalinks.com/montauk.html


http://www.crystalinks.com/montauk1.html

http://www.crystalinks.com/phila.html
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