JOHN LUDI'S TWO CENTS ABOUT ROSWELL

Since practically everyone who has even remotely been involved in the Roswell mythos has had their 15 mins of fame, I thought that I might as well add my inconsequencial little piece of the puzzle. I should note that by saying mythos I do not mean that I disbelieve the basic outline of the story, but that the basic outline has been embellished with so many ludicrious and often contradictory subplots that it has developed a life of it's own that seems to transcend the facts...whatever they might be. I should also note that I have posted this on a few different newsgroups that I thought were appropriate. I hope that doesn't irritate anyone, my knowledge of Netiquette is still rather limited when it comes to newsgroups, I just happen to like to disseminate data as widely as possible when I think it might be worthwhile. Not that my contribution to the Roswell slagheap is anything one would consider paradigm-shattering, it's pretty trivial really.

Back in 1987 I worked as a sales rep for a wholesaler of musical equipment who shall remain nameless. I was only there for a little over a year as I, like most of the other people who worked there, hated the owner, a corrupt and venal little zit of a man, with an almost feverish passion. Despite the brief amount of time I was there I managed to establish some rather strong relationships with some of the music store owners the company serviced. A few of them liked me well enough to share details of their personal lives with me, a somewhat unusual situation given the superficiality of most sales situations. I guess they liked me, thought I was a nice guy, someone they could put their trust in...HA HA HA HA HA! Fools! ("I'm not a good listener, I just have a habit of nodding my head and looking thoughtful when I'm bored!")

Among the small group of customers that respected me enough to not try to talk to me about sports was an eldery gentleman in his early eighties who owned a music store in the Roswell, NM. area. (I should note at this point that this was 1987, WAY before the current media blitz regarding the Roswell crash had reached such epic proportions and WAY before the average construction worker had the words Area 51, alien autopsy, and regressive hypnotherapy branded into his brain along with beer commercials and ads for tractor pulls.) I spoke with this man, whose name I sincerely can't remember (so don't even try), about twice a month and had a fairly warm and congenial level of communication with him. At this point in time I was not very interested in the paranormal. I had been very interested when I was in my teens, but I had developed a kind of "been there, done that" attitude towards such issues. I was much more into "real" science (whatever that means) at that stage of my life and thought that the whole UFO world was something I could safely leave behind me. Silly me.

One afternoon (and forgive me if I'm a bit hazy on the details, it's been about nine years and I have the long term memory of the average vole) when I was having a relaxed conversation with this character, he brought up the Roswell issue. He asked me if I was familiar with the story about the crash. I replied that I was only by name. He proceeded to give me the general background of the story: the rancher, the pre-coverup media coverage, Marcel, the recovered bodies, etc. He then went on to tell me his personal story which pretty much goes along with what has been reported ad nauseaum for the past few years. It involved a house by house search for wreckage by the airforce in the general area and threats of bodily harm regarding any current or future disclosure. Being currently an octogenerian, my customer felt that enough time had passed that he could tell anyone his little story with relative impunity. I can't remember his exact words but "I'm 80 years old, I probably won't be around that much longer anyway, I don't really give a shit. What are they gonna do, kill me?" is a good rough approximation

One of the details of his story was his claim that he was in possession of a piece of the debris and that, in fact, many of the area residents had and still have pieces of the alleged craft hidden away. He made it sound like the intent of the airforce was more to intimidate people into giving up their treasures than to actually rifle through everyone's underwear drawers looking for stray bits of unearthly metal.

I wish at that point in time I had asked this guy a few more educated questions. I was mildly interested in what he had to say, but since I had no ready made context in which to evaluate his claims I just kind of thought "what a kook" and mentally went on my merry way. The actual conversation was fairly long but I don't want to attempt to recapture it as it would involve a good deal of pure fabrication on my part. Suffice it to say, if he's right about area residents being in possession of pieces of the craft, there may be some use in digging around in this regard. I don't know. His story could have been a total fabrication, but he seemed to be sincere and I can't (now here comes a familiar refrain) think of any reason for him to be telling this tale. He was a very nondemonstrative individual if I recall, and seemed to be more motivated by a healthy disrespect for authority than any claim to fame. He did not seem to be interested in receiving any public attention. He's probably worm food by now. I did not keep in touch with him or any of my clients when I left my job. So many people, so little time.

That's pretty much it. I tried to avoid conguring up more than the basic facts that are lying around in my twisted little brain, if more SOLID FACTS come to me I'll add to this little vignette in the future.

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