Dear citizen:
You don’t know me, but I have chosen you as one of a small group of people I can share my message with. I am a 68 year old American citizen currently hiding away in a foreign country. If you are reading this it means I have successfully revealed the biggest cover-up in human history, and as a consequence am already likely dead, a captive, or else living in fear for my life.
Given the severe personal risk to myself, you may wonder why I have chosen to share the volatile information I possess with the world. The answer is simple: either I will be killed for telling the truth, or I will be consumed from the inside out by keeping it a secret. I am not pretending to be a brave man, but to die at my age with this secret locked up inside me would be cowardice.
I believe it is first essential for me to give a brief family background, as I learned this monumental government secret from my deceased father – Dr. Timothy Wendel Shumaker (see photo) . “Tim” was a geneticist, marine biologist, scientific consultant for the American government, and amateur painter.
I am obliged to tell you on the front side that my father hastened his own death through abuse of alcohol and prescription drugs, chronic smoking, and an unhealthy lifestyle revolving around compulsive gambling and any and every other diversion. I must also admit that by the time I was 5 years old, Tim, who had up until then been a kindly person, became increasingly irritable, obsessive, and eccentric to the point of being an embarrassment to the family. Chief among his glaring eccentricities was an uncanny ability to predict future scientific developments coupled with an ironically fervent hatred of science fiction and a passionate disgust for anyone who believed at all in the likelihood of the existence of aliens.
An example of my father’s alarming behavior transpired when I was 12 years old and my father came into my room as I was reading a dog-eared copy of a Weird Fantasy comic book. On the cover were three aliens inside their spaceship (see attached image). Tim caught a glimpse of the cover and snatched it roughly from my hands. “What’s wrong?” I asked. He studied the image with a growing scowl, and finally snarled, “This is garbage! Those are NOT aliens! There are NO aliens!” I tried to protest, “Dad. I know. It’s just a comic book. It’s fantasy. I don’t believe in it.” He took the comic, slammed the door while cursing, and I never saw it again. My dad was telling me the truth. There are no aliens. Aliens have never visited this planet.
That was 1959. My father was a puzzle to me. When he said something was true or not, he had a force of conviction that was so compelling I automatically believed him. When he told me back then that there were no aliens and that human kind would never meet aliens, I thought he was a hard-nosed realist. But then he was also absolutely positive that America would send rockets to the moon (which didn’t happen for another decade); that one day we would all have our own computers; that we would carry around small phones in our pockets; and that people would be able to get new hearts from specially raised pigs and monkeys. I’d shake my head and wonder why he believed in people travelling to the moon, getting pig hearts, having pocket phones, and their own mini-computers, but he didn’t believe in aliens. It was ALL science fiction to me. Movies were coming out with aliens in them, but even in the movies nobody carried around a computer in his book bag! He also repeatedly expressed two fervent beliefs, both of which seemed just plain oddball until now. One was that time travel would be our last great scientific achievement as a species, and the other is that we should never kill off our own progeny. I hoped he hadn’t considered the latter.
After my father died I found out the truth, and the pieces of the puzzle of his behavior, strange beliefs and eccentricities all fell into place. But it was not just the personal history of my dysfunctional family life that suddenly made sense, it was the world we lived in and the things we’d been lied to about all our lives, not only in America but around the globe. Yes it does revolve around the story of aliens visiting the Earth, and even around the incident in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947, but the aliens are not the secret, they are the cover-up. There were no aliens. There was, however, a craft of sorts, and three beings inside it.
The greatest cover up in human history was to conceal what that craft was and who those beings were inside of it, and the greatest hoax of our lifetimes was for the government to deliberately spread rumors that the craft was from space and that its occupants were astronauts from another world. The reason the US government established agencies such as “Project Blue Book” to investigate reports of UFOs and extraterrestrials was NOT because they believed they might exist, but rather to convince the public that they might exist. It was an elaborate ruse. The govt. pretended to counter claims of UFO sightings when it was perpetuating them itself in order to distract people from what really took place on the ground in Roswell. It was also disseminating images of aliens (which are now called “greys”) which actually closely resembled the REAL, non-alien ship’s inhabitants. This clever bit of subterfuge was masterminded in order to counter future security breaches in which the awful truth about who the real crew of that ship were might leak out. Even comic book writers and illustrators were commissioned to create stories about visiting aliens in order to fuel this growing misperception. The objective was to discredit anyone who talked about the incident in Roswell as a whacko who believes in aliens, or some other crazy conspiracy theory.
Years after my father died, I decided to move his belongings from a rental storage place to the basement in my own home rather than continue to pay expensive storage costs. Among the various things he’d left behind was a locked crate, the contents of which shocked me when curiosity finally got the better of me and I pried the lid open with a crowbar. Inside there was a single reel-to-reel audio tape, simply labeled “Confession,” and some pencil drawings he’d made. While Tim did make some landscape paintings, and drew an occasional portrait, it was unfathomable to me that he would ever make the drawings I found in the crate! They were of the thing he despised most – aliens! Upon seeing them my mind reeled back to being scolded for the Weird Fantasy comic book with aliens on the cover. However, when I listened to the confessional tape, I discovered why Tim had made those drawings.
I didn’t listen to the tape right away, believing it contained some sort of alcoholic’s ramblings about what he’d done wrong, how he’d mistreated his family, and other regrets. In short, I thought it would reveal personal information that would be painful or embarrassing for me to hear. What was recorded on that tape reel, however, was a clear and lucid account of in incredible government cover-up in which he was personally involved, and which he was absolutely forbidden to ever speak of because it was of the highest security risk. It also became apparent to me that Tim had not been a loser at all. His descent into alcoholism, chronic smoking, and prescription drug addiction were the result of the guilt of keeping such a colossal secret bottled up inside him all those years.
I will try to relay the story the tape reel contained in brief. Yes, there really was a craft that appeared in the desert of Roswell, New Mexico in 1947, and there were indeed three beings in it. But that craft did NOT crash into the Earth! It was perfectly intact and undamaged when discovered by the military. Nevertheless it was perceived as definitely not American, and almost certainly a threat. The military handled the situation as they would in any other instance where a foreign craft entered our country without invitation or warning: they fired rounds on it, and used a rocket launcher to blow apart the hull.
The craft was blasted open and the force of the explosion flung two of the occupants onto the dried desert ground. The encroaching soldiers were astounded to discover the dead enemy combatants were not Russian or Japanese or German. They weren’t even human!
This is where my father came into the picture. He held a PhD in Marine Biology, was one of the premier researchers into genes and heredity, and had published a book and papers in scientific journals on his experiments with the controlled breeding of star fish. The government sought his expertise to examine the bodies of the dead aliens, and to prove or disprove something even more important. He had to agree to total confidentiality, with mortal consequences should he violate the trust of the American government.
Tim could not have prepared himself for what he would see, even though he’d been briefed on the fact of the two dead bodies (which he had hitherto assumed were foreign nationals). He was ultimately led into a hospital room in which an injured creature lay on a cot. He said that it looked to him, at first, something like a giant, emaciated, wrinkled baby with frog’s eyes and the mouth of an old woman. He said his first gut reaction was that he was looking at an “old baby”. Even more bizarre, CIA agents were speaking to it in ENGLISH. Tim wondered for just an instant if the being was the result of another countries’ twisted experiment on human life. He spoke on the tape that he could still feel the chill that ran through his body when he saw that creature, which he described as “haunted,” and the shock he felt when it opened its small mouth and enunciated English words. [See the drawing he made of it speaking at that moment, from memory, a few years later in 1950.]
The single most profound moment of my father’s Earthly existence, he said, was when that creature turned it’s over-sized, grey-green eyes on him and uttered the sentence, “Help me. They don’t believe I am human.” The impact of being confronted with such an impossible situation was so overwhelming that my father said he rocked on his feet before the scientist in him started clinically thinking about blood tests, and what would be by today’s standards very basic analyses of anatomy and gene structures.
It is difficult to condense this story, but I will endeavor to do so. The “alien” claimed to have been a human being who had, with his crew, used the craft which had suddenly appeared in the desert to time travel. He said he was our distant descendant, and his different appearance was the consequence of thousands of years of evolution.
Tim recorded that to his scientific mind, this was utter nonsense and balderdash, the stuff of opium dreams and science-fiction fluff. Nevertheless his senses could not be denied, and there lie before him a creature with over sized eyes, a giant head, and a diminutive body, speaking an accented but understandable English. He could not deny what his eyes were seeing, nor the revulsion the injuries to the creature’s body aroused in him.
My father’s job was to determine whether the creature’s claims were true, though no one believed they were. The CIA agents, generals and statesmen my father interacted with all believed “the creature,” as they called it, was indeed an alien, and its mission was to collect information so that its race could invade our planet. Rudimentary laboratory analysis, however, confirmed that the creature’s genes were closer to ours than any other species on Earth, including our closest genetic brother, the chimpanzee. It was biologically and evolutionarily impossible that any species from another world could share nearly identical DNA with human beings – they would have had to evolve in a completely different environment and would have barely any overlap whatsoever with human DNA. While the government officials couldn’t really appreciate the fundamental scientific incontrovertibility of this simple finding, pure reason compelled my father to begin to give credence to the claims “the creature” was making.
The “creature’s” story, which it gave over the span of more than a dozen hours, is as follows. His mission was to time travel to an earlier period in human history when the gene pool was much larger, and to retrieve healthier DNA. This was essential because the human race was dying out because of weaknesses resulting from too narrow of a gene pool (for the less scientifically minded, this means that there were so few humans in his time, that there was not enough variety of genes, and people were becoming extremely weak, with some of the same problems that result from inbreeding). Further, the reason there were so few humans was because of massive environmental devastation, cataclysmic weather perturbations which were the result of the destruction of nature, and to finish things off apocalyptic levels of nuclear and other toxic spills caused by unprecedented storms. California, for example, had been hit by a gargantuan tidal wave which bowled over nuclear power plants midway between Los Angeles and San Diego, rending the whole West Coast of America a radioactive, biological swamp. In short, the Earth had become basically uninhabitable, and what human life remained were select scientists, researchers, and medical professionals who continued life in specifically designed self-sufficient enclosed underground environments.
Living underground for centuries, and then thousands of years while the surface of the Earth continued to be unpopulable, caused certain evolutionary biological changes. As a species, we had to adapt to a living environment entirely different from that of our ancestors who had always lived above ground and in the sun. Our eyes grew and our retinas changed to facilitate seeing in the dimmer, artificial light. Our skin thinned and we lost our hair because we lived our whole lives indoors in an unvarying temperature and faced no weather changes. Because our diet was deficient in animal protein (not being able to raise livestock underground), and we had very little need ever for physical exertion, our bodies became small, and fragile. But we developed our minds, and the outermost layer of our brains, the cerebrum, mushroomed in tandem with the softening of the bone structure and our skulls.
Despite extraordinary technological advancements, our species faced extinction due to our ever-weakening physical bodies. Our scientists began to focus all of their attention on developing a mechanism for time travel so we could return to a time before humans moved underground and retrieve more robust DNA.
“The Creature,” whom my father referred to as “Kree” for short, went so far as to say that there was even room in his time-bending craft to take guests with him if they’d like to see the society of the future. They only had to help him get well and assist him with repairing the machine.
For Tim this was an extraordinary proposition, and an unparalleled scientific opportunity in the history of humankind. He was going to be first in line to volunteer to make the journey. But the generals, CIA operatives, and political leaders didn’t see it in the same light. What they found in their possession was a wealth of advanced technology that would put the United States leagues ahead of our enemies and any other country. This “creature,’ and his machine, contained the secrets of travel in time and space, micro computer technology, and medical advancements which we, at that time, hadn’t even dreamed of. Tim was aghast that our own leaders in America merely wanted to exploit the situation to their own advantage, and showed no appreciation or concern whatsoever for our own descendants dying off in the future.
When “Kree” came to understand with certainty how his distant ancestors were going to deal with him, and what his trip and the endeavors of hundreds of years of scientific research had come to, he became despondent and his precarious health visibly weakened. He’d lost the will to live. His injuries merely festered and one limb had to be amputated. It became clear within days that Kree wouldn’t last out the week. His skin became flakey and his eyes clouded.
The government dismissed Tim at that point, because they’d already received the results of his laboratory analysis. He wouldn’t even see Kree again to say he was sorry for what had happened. All Tim got at this point was a large check and threats should he ever speak out. America wanted to claim the future technology as its own innovations. It was that simple. What remained of that time-bending craft was the most precious thing on our Earth, and most of the technological advancements of the last 60 years were merely appropriated from Kree’s ship, including: rocket technology which enabled the moon landing; computer technology and software development; transmitters used in cell phones… you name it. Have you ever wondered why we’ve made more technological advancements in the last 60 years than in the previous hundreds, or why most of them come directly from the U.S.? They are NOT our own inventions, we’ve just managed to learn from what was left of Kree’s ship and systematically uncover some of its secrets.
The worst thing about what the American government did in New Mexico in 1947 is not that they stole the technology from the future or allowed one of our great descendants to die in our care. It’s not just that we passed up the opportunity to travel in time to the future and meet those who evolved from ourselves, and possibly to share in their technology globally and willingly, as a species for everyone’s benefit. No, the most sinister thing we did was to not allow Kree to complete his mission, which was the mission the totality of remaining humanity worked to achieve for hundreds of years. If Kree failed to bring back more vigorous DNA, the future of humanity was doomed to die out of weakness. We killed off our own descendants through selfish stupidity, and sealed our own doom at the same time. Further, in stealing advanced technology that we didn’t develop ourselves–like a kid who takes his parents’ car out for a joy ride–we hastened our own demise by misusing tools we couldn’t adequately handle or control. The reason our technology outstripped our moral and ethical development is that it wasn’t our technology to begin with. It was created by humans, but hundreds of years in the future, not just a few years.
So why am I telling you all of this. Obviously because it’s an enormously important historical fact, and because I don’t want to die like my father, with the burden of this horrible secret buried in my consciousness. But there’s a more important and practical reason. Knowing the dire fate that awaits our species in the future, it might still be possible to prevent it. It may not be too late to waylay the natural destruction that precipitated other worse disasters. Perhaps if we preserve healthy DNA now in facilities that we can access in the future, we will be able to keep our species alive and fit.
When I think about the time line, and if we can change a future that’s already transpired, my mind reels. But one thing seems clear, we messed up our world the first time around when our technology evolved slowly, and therefore with our misuse of technology borrowed from the future we’re much more likely to do an even worse job and in hundreds of years instead of thousands.
Perhaps you don’t believe this story. I could produce the reel-to-reel tape as evidence (don’t think for one moment the government would allow anyone to sneak out even a shred of the physical pieces of the time machine!), but I doubt a neutral party will be the FIRST to find me with it now that I’ve divulged the secret. All I can offer at this point is the truth of what I’ve told you, a faded picture of my father, and a scan of one of his drawings of Kree.
Lastly, we can all be thankful that we still live above ground and are benefiting from the technology we’ve borrowed from our own descendants. This is probably near the end of the best time to be a human being. For me, as I said in the opening of this letter, my days are numbered, and I may already have “disappeared,” but I am infinitely lighter for having relinquished the greatest mistake our species ever made.
Adrian T. Shumaker!