Historical and mythological accounts record my movements at various points of time. I would be remiss if I did not give voice to the efforts of this truly great personality. It is true that all that has been done could not have been achieved without his efforts.
Revelation identifies him as Abaddon, who in Greek is called Apolloyon. He was also known to the Norse as Odin and to the British as Merlin. We affectionately call him The Old One.
Old One is a purist at heart. It was his wish to savor every moment of life and each experience it had to offer. In the days when we walked physically among you, he took up sword and shield and subjected his skin suit to the results of life. As Odin, he incurred substantial injuries. His body is marked by the scars of many wounds inflicted by swords. His right eye is missing. One can only imagine the pain involved has he took a heated sword and slapped it on the eye to cauterize the wound.
Sean has had the opportunity to spend time with him. At eleven years old he said to me, "Dad, after you're with the Old One for a little while you don't notice all the scars or his missing eye". The kid made me proud as he had the ability to see past the outward appearance and into the soul of the man. Were mankind so blessed with such objectivity!
While I have been in life, Old One has been minding the store, managing our Nordics and making the preparations for what we knew would eventually come. The Defiant Class of ship is his doing. It seems odd that those who planned on making war upon the universe did not take the time to advance their own technologies. Old One did.
It hasn't been our practice to take raw materials from the Earth. Doing so would have eventually created timeline conflicts and avoidance of interference was preferred. Long ago we established a base on Mars in that area called Cydonia. This is a mining and production facility where we produced the materials we would need on earth. It is staffed mainly by Nordics who maintain the sentient mining equipment used. It has also served as a manufacturing facility for ships of various configuration. All this kept in mind the eventual war in heaven that is to occur.
Old One corrected the temporal divergence created by Satan which delayed the first taking, rapture. His genius is substantial and the universe has long given recognition to this fact. He is the father of the Lanonandek race of angels. The license to create a new race is not given lightly or often and it speaks to the high degree of evolution within this individual's soul.
I have oft times complained that the Creator Son's incarnation was marked
by legions of angels waiting only for him to sneeze before they jumped into
action to fulfill his slightest wish. Me, on the other hand, I get one cantankerous
old man who takes pleasure in busting my chops. In truth, I would not trade
this old junk yard dog for anyone else and bear him considerable affection.
Old One picked me up in 1973 right before the resignation of Richard Nixon. No effort was made to remove the memory of the encounter and the event stayed clear in my mind. I was beamed aboard using the standard dimensional door. I was greeted by a young Nordic male and ushered into a room where there was a red carpet. The ship had the appearance of gray metal and the carpet was obviously out of place. I walked down a long curving hallway in which recessed lights could been seen in the walls. At the end of the hallway stood the Old One.
He stands about six feet and is Scandinavian in appearance. You would peg his age at sixty to sixty five. I felt comfortable with him although I had not yet awakened or had a conscious memory of knowing him. He indicated I should walk into the doorway behind him and did so.
The room was circular and had the appearance of a circlerama theater. There was a white screen that ran the circumference of the room. The door I had entered was a gull wing affair. In the middle of the room were two bucket seats that looked as though they might have been taken from a 1973 Camaro, both black. Between the seats was a console. Old One indicated I should sit in the right seat while he took the left.
He flipped open a lid on the console revealing instrumentation.He closed the door to the room, lowered the lights and the screen lit up. On it images flowed beginning before us and trailing off to the right side. The room was soon lit by the motion of these images. Unfortunately, they were moving too fast for me to focus on any one of them. I eventually came to know that Old One was updating his information on my timeline. As the lifeline and the timeline are one and the same, he needed me and my carcass to perform the task. All the events that played on the screen were of future events beginning with the political demise of Richard Nixon.
The next day, I called a friend who was well versed in mythologies and told her of the encounter. She indicated that the personality involved was from Norse mythology and named Odin. I knew nothing of Norse legends then and have made little effort to increase that knowledge since then except to the degree that has surfaced as 'memory'.
In October 1993, I became aware that I was regularly being abducted from my bedroom by little gray critters that came through my wall in a blue light. I would wake up with nicks and scratches consistent with those you'd expect if you'd been in a fight. The kicker that did it for me was the morning I woke laying at an odd angle across my bed butt naked. I later found my shorts on the floor at the foot of the bed. Accompanying these experiences was inexplicable fear. I am not a fearful person and I regarded the presence of this emotion as anomalous. I reasoned there must be a reason for it even if I wasn't conscious of it at that moment.
I began doing research into the possibility of abductions. I contacted CUFOS, the Center for Ufo Studies and purchased their entire sighting database on diskettes. I then started searching for sightings at different periods of my life where I did remember anomalous events. I hit matches in all cases. The coincidence factor here was higher than could be reasonably accounted for. Realizing that my memory had somehow been tampered with, I flew to Houston, Texas and spent a weekend with Derrel Sims, a forensic hypnotist specializing in ufo abduction cases. It was the worst weekend of my life.
I came to realize that the credo of the abductors was, "Don't Look, Don't Know, Don't Tell". I was disobeying that programmed injunction and the price was a head on conflict with massive amounts of irrational fear. Perhaps I'm odd in how I react to things, but the greater the fear the more I forged on. I won't live in fear and would rather die than to give into it.
Over the two days I was with Derrel, we focused on three events from my life. One of them, the 1973 encounter with Old One. While I remembered the encounter, I felt there might have been some detailing I'd missed. I was right. The timeline images I saw were not the product of being psychic or anything of the sort, instead I identified them as timeline moments although I had not yet arrived at an answer as to how it was that I possessed such information.
Derrel coaxed me to slow down the images and to look at them in detail. I couldn't. Any effort to slow it down only resulted in the 'screen' going blank. Instead I told him to ask me questions. I found that I could access the information as a 'knowing' rather than as a seeing. Once I understood the dynamics of what was going on, I discovered I could predict future events accurately. This included real long shot material like earthquakes etc.
At that point, I was suspicious of Old One. I hadn't made him as an angel or established my relationships with him. I had a very simplistic view about aliens. The only good alien was a dead alien, end of story. This, however, was only the beginning. I had, as a matter of logic, following the trail of bread crumbs left by the abductions, and inadvertently stepped into my own awakening, the beginning of Armageddon and the end times was in progress.