The Earthly Adventures of Commander Stormm, John Stormm [english books to improve english txt] 📗

“The Earthly Adventures of Commander Stormm”

     How did this happen to me?  I had already come through a life that only a few knowing people would ever believe could happen to another human being!  I was put up for adoption at birth, and whisked away into the MKULTRA Project in the Summer of 1953.  A whole slew of Nazi doctors, who were rescued from being hung for their crimes by the CIA and Project Paperclip, along with Catholic nuns in barbed wire corsets were already prepared to receive the first hundred or so unwanted American babies for experimentation to make some of us into “supersoldiers”.  The program did not call us that.  They called us ULTRAs -  Human beings eugenically engineered to operate at our fullest human capacity for military and clandestine missions during the Cold War of the 1950s through Sixties, and beyond.  Out of my creche in Building 400 in Rochester, New York, I became one of only a few first generation, successful ULTRA agents.  The majority of my peers died, or worse, and became howling lunatics, no longer capable of ever taking care of themselves, living in what we called the Terror Tower, that was a part of the Strong Hospital Psych Unit, only about a mile down the road.

     That’s going to be the common theme of most of my misadventures:  I survived!  In my lifetime, I have been wounded by gunshots six times, in six different years.  I’ve been stabbed and/or slashed by knives, swords, arrows, shuriken and anything a thug could find to injure someone with, and of course - I survived them all.  My attackers, except for one, were left crippled or dead for their efforts.  The exception to those, was an old farmer in Dansville, New York, that shot me square in the chest with a load of birdshot and rock salt from an antique shotgun.  He had been plagued by vandals nightly, and I happened onto his property while hiking home and looking for a place off the road where I could stop to urinate.  Thinking I was one of the culprits, he let me have the load from about twenty feet away, knocking me onto my back with the wind out of my lungs.  My military surplus jacket protected me from most of the debris, but I had an eight inch wide pattern of shot and burning rock salt in the center of my chest.  The old man checked on me, and we got our stories straight and he drove me to his own doctor to remove the shot from my skin.  It hadn’t gone very deep because of the protective jacket I was wearing. And afterwards he drove me back into Rochester.  It was simply a misunderstanding.  How many people do you know that can get blasted, dead center in the chest by a shotgun, and call it a “misunderstanding”?  But it really was.  Hence, I did not attack the farmer.

     But what I want to do in this writing, is to describe the long string of events that led up to me being an advocate of the Plieadians and Galactic Federation. Even writing it here:  it looks like so much Star Trek fantasy, and I have to constantly tamp down my embarrassment to speak publicly of such things.  I sound crazy even to myself, but I know far beyond doubting that they are precisely who they represent themselves to be, and far more than just that too!  So, I suppose we’ll start this story with some of my earliest extraterrestrial experiences and bring them up to the present day.  Why I chose to bill myself as “Commander Stormm” in this story will all be explained as we go…

     By the age of 18 months, my Grandma had retrieved me from “adoption”, which was NEVER going to happen with MKULTRA.  I spoke English and some Bavarian German from my exposure to my doctors.  This would be my first exposure to "family" since being rejected at birth, but I thrived with Grandma.  I knew I was loved. 

The year was 1957 and near my fourth birthday, I had a new baby sister and my step father got a job as a machinist at ROHR Aircraft works in Riverside, California and the whole family hopped a Greyhound Scenicruiser for the Golden State, and pretty little blond boy that I was, I got reviewed for a possible future in the MK Monarch program that was still in it’s infancy, even as Disneyland was being built a few miles away in Anaheim. As it happened. it turned out that my response to sexual abuse was “over the top” and some filthy wretch got themselves badly injured  while trying to abuse a five year old boy.  Eventually, my stepdad would be laid off at ROHR, and we’d be packing up and taking the three thousand mile ride back to Rochester, New York and MKULTRA.

     I lived on Randolph Street in Riverside, and attended Terrace Elementary School for grades kindergarten and first grade.  My best friends were the Maggia’s, a Mexican family that lived across the street.  Rudy, Albert, Susan and Claudia were my regular playmates.  Rudy, being a whole eight years old and “almost a teenager” was like a hero to me in those days.  We’d often watch monster movies on TV together, and I’ll be getting to more of that later on in this tale.

     My first ET encounter happened in the playground of Terrace Elementary in the late Spring as I was about to graduate from Miss Gilliam’s first grade class there.  Myself, Dick Benevict, Jeannie Robinson and Jeannie Black had the whole playground to ourselves.  The girls would chase me and Dick around the playground and try to capture us with their jump ropes and then take us to “jail”, which was the bricked-in trash incinerator in the center back of the playground.  It was rarely used and safe to play around.  On this day, Jeannie Black had captured me and was about to kiss “girl cooties” on my face in the “jail”, when we noticed a small, wretched gray creature, trembling and trying to hide behind a trash bag.  It was VERY frightened, we could tell.  We looked at each other and looked back at it, only to see Jeannie Robinson trembling there and holding up the bag for protection.  Looking over my right shoulder, I could see the real Jeannie Robinson still chasing nimble Dick around the monkey bars in the playground.  Who and WHAT was that with the trash bag?  I’m not sure what happened after that point, but I remember us all splitting up and walking home from there and nobody talking about anything after that.  They wouldn’t talk about it, so I kept my peace around my parents over it at the time.  But obviously, I never forgot it.

     It was probably a week or so after that, on a Saturday, when I was over with the Maggia family and watching a black & white sci-fi movie about a flying saucer landing in the field behind a boy’s house and capturing the townspeople and replacing them one-by-one.  It was truly corny by today’s standards.  You could even see the zippers on the backs of their alien costumes!  But, after the movie was over, I grabbed my bike and crossed the street to go home.  It was already dark and I had to put my bike away in our garage.  I opened up the garage door, and standing within the garage was THREE small gray men with big heads and black oval eyes standing right across form me!  I slammed the garage door back down, forgot about my bike and ran to the front door to tell my stepfather that there were Martians in our garage.  Hey, it was 1958 and what else would a boy think it was back then?

     My stepfather had been watching a ballgame on TV and not happy about my crazy behavior.  None the less, he walked through the kitchen, into the garage and there were no Martians.  Nothing but “garage” and his playboy pin-ups pasted across the walls.  He told me to go and put my bike away and no more nonsense and no more monster movies with the Maggias!  I saw it was empty… now… but I knew what I saw was NOT from the movies I was watching.  We had NO idea of what Grays were back then.  I put my bike away and got sent to my room.

     I laid in my bed, wondering what I saw and why.  I wasn’t at it for too long when I noticed that I was not alone in my room anymore.  In my room were three “martians” that I MUCH later learned were “Emerther Grays”.  They had huge Bambi like eyes.  I had just seen “Bambi” at the movies with my Mom not too many weeks before this, and all of them were about my size, with little pert noses, big eyes and eyelashes and a tiny, cute smile.  There arms seemed a little long for their sizes, with only four fingers, much like Mickey Mouse had, and they were here to see me!

I was scared and curious at the same time, but in my case, curiosity will win over scared any day of the week no matter what I was facing.  I was playing with martians in my bedroom, and my stepdad would have had a complete melt down if he had only checked in on me that night.  But the ballgame was on, and I was just a crazy little bastard to him.  The “martians” made me levitate over my bed, and floated me outside through my bedroom window, which was not even opened!  I could feel the cool glass passing through me as I floated through and out into my backyard, where a very classic looking flying saucer was hovering low above us.  A beam of coherent light came out of the craft and took me on up inside, where they put me on an examination table, similar to what my doctor’s office had, but more streamlined looking.  Around this time, one of my martian buddies cam forward with a long metal probe, with a triangular looking thing situated on it’s tip.  He proceeded to place the object up my nose, and warned me that it might sting a little bit.  It did, and my eyes watered from it.  I’ll never forget the sound and sensation of a “crunch” when they pushed it into place.

     The next morning, I awoke to the mother of all nosebleeds and my Mom had to call our family doctor to came and make it stop.  Everybody was wondering how this got so bad.

Doctor: Were you picking your nose, kid?

Johnny:  No.  It was the martians that put a thingie up my nose last night!

     My stepdad was mortified and told the doctor that I had probably been picking my nose in my sleep or something and that I had been watching scary movies with the neighbors across the street.  None the less, our doctor recommended a “specialist” to come over and see me.  Here's an infamous name in the programs that you can research:  The doctor was Dr. George Estabrooks, a prominent government psychiatrist and hypnotist.  He managed to convince ALL of us that since I was indeed a “child prodigy” and had a very vivid imagination, that this is what caused this whole event to happen.  Nobody knew that I had seen one of these before, and other kids were with me.  But they’d never talk about what we saw that day!  But the suggestion took hold, and I thought I made them all up and even added them to my drawings that my Mom would hang