Some of the late Barry Goldwater’s UFO-related correspondence has recently been released, and it makes shocking reading, for a reason that I will detail in a moment. After I read it, though, I found myself thinking about the present state of the UFO mystery, how we have gotten here, and what has been lost.

When Goldwater’s first letters were written, in the late 1960s, it was still possible for respected media to publish UFO stories. It didn’t happen often, even then, but it did happen. Not anymore, and I think that some of Goldwater’s statements, and some things revealed in his letters, tell us why it is that the media and the scientific community absolutely reject the whole subject as nonsense.
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Beginning in March of 2011, people began posting videos on YouTube of odd sounds that seemed to have no source. I first became aware of them about a month ago, when Anne and I briefly heard one filling the air, a great roaring that died away as suddenly as it had begun. It was just enough to cause us to take notice, but we thought no more of it. A few days later, there was a reporter here interviewing me about Solving the Communion Enigma. The moment he came into the apartment, he asked what the strange noise was. He described it as a sound like a glass harp. We couldn’t hear it at all. He adjusted his equipment, determined that it wasn’t being picked up by his recorder, and completed the interview.read more

Last week, this journal started with the paragraph: "My new book, Solving the Communion Enigma is being murdered in the bookstores. There is no other way to say it. Try finding it in a bookstore."

Now it turns out that it is moving out of the stores very well, and that’s thanks to you. There have also been some good reviews of it, for which I could not be more grateful. Communion Enigma is important. It breaks new ground and, to my joy, the reviewers are beginning to recognize this.
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It is a late hour. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I sit listening to Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise sung by Anna Moffo, which I would listen to on nights when I felt that the visitors were coming. They would cast such a spell over me on those nights, with their strangeness and their longing. They seemed far from home, but not physically; rather, from a home that is deep in the heart. They were seekers, looking for something they had lost, which was why, after my initial disquiet, I felt such a closeness to them.
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