Ruthless killers and murderers for hire: they are just about here, there and everywhere. They lurk in the shadows, ready to pounce. They terminate to order. And, in the process, sometimes they even change the course of humankind – albeit it not in a good way. They are among the world’s most cold-hearted, deadly, and emotionless figures. They are the assassins. In this article you will quickly find yourself immersed in a world that is filled with killings made to seem like suicides and accidents. And, the examples I have chosen to present for you have connections to nothing less than the U̳F̳O̳ phenomenon. We\’ll begin with Roswell. What else? It was in early July of 1947 that something very strange indeed crashed on the Foster Ranch, Lincoln County, New Mexico. The wreckage of whatever it was that had come down was strewn across a distance of around six hundred feet. The rancher who found the material – William Ware “Mack” Brazel – contacted the local police, who then contacted the old Roswell Army Air Field. In no time at all, the military descended on the ranch, quickly collecting the materials and warning Brazel not to talk about what he had seen – which, evidence and testimony suggests, included not just the massive amounts of wreckage but a number of mangled, rapidly decomposing bodies, too. A “legend” of sorts was “born.” Not only that, there is a very sinister story concerning Roswell and a possible murder. And it begins right now…
Miriam Bush was someone who knew exactly what happened on the Foster Ranch in early 1947. Not only that, she paid for that knowledge with her life. Miriam Bush has, at times, been incorrectly described as a nurse who worked at the military hospital at the Roswell Army Air Field. She was not: Bush was actually an executive secretary at the base. The distinction may sound small, but the fact is that Bush’s position meant that she would have been in a prime position to see the mangled bodies when they were secretly brought to the base. Bush’s immediate superior was Lieutenant Colonel Harold Warne; he played a significant role in the autopsies of the dead people used in the experiment. It’s hardly surprising, given the circumstances and the subsequent warnings issued to Bush and others in the base hospital at the time, that Miriam Bush became deeply paranoid and even in fear of her life. Although she had been told by high-ranking personnel at the base never, ever to discuss what she had seen, Bush secretly chose to confide in her family, but warning them to never tell anyone what had happened and what she knew.
For Bush, though, the Roswell affair came to dominate her life: she became even more paranoid, entered into a loveless marriage, and soon started hitting the bottle to a serious degree. She would soon be a full-blown alcoholic. Such were the effects of what can happen when finds oneself tangled in a conspiracy as disturbing and dark as the Roswell event surely was. Even though Miriam Bush did not tell anyone else – outside of her family – about what she had seen at the Roswell base, namely, the bodies found on the Foster Ranch, she could never quite shake off the feeling that she was still being watched. Now, onto the nineties.
In 1997 I interviewed the well-known British U̳F̳O̳ investigator, Jenny Randles, regarding a strange series of events she found herself in, back in the latter part of 1986. It was a very curious saga involving allegedly classified documents, dead a̳l̳i̳e̳n̳s, crashed flying saucers, and much more. It all began in October 1986, when Randles came into contact with a man who had then recently left his employment with the British Army. According to the man, he had in his possession a large stash of still-classified material on U̳F̳O̳s that he had acquired under very controversial circumstances. Despite the admittedly sensational nature of the story, Randles agreed to meet with the man – who Randles referred to only as “Robert” – at a location in the English town of Eccles, which wasn’t at all far from where Randles lived. Also along for the meeting with Robert was Peter Hough, a friend of Randles and a fellow U̳F̳O̳ investigator.
And there’s something else, too: one of the documents contained in the vast stash of material was titled “Elimination of Non-Military Personnel.” Randles said to me: “[Robert] said that this was a document discussing the ways in which witnesses who had come into possession of too much information on U̳F̳O̳s were silenced. And although this sounds very much like something out of a spy film, from his detailed discussion of a number of case-histories in the file, the one tactic that was used most often – particularly with people in influential positions – was to offer them high-paid jobs in government departments. They had pretty much determined that, where money was concerned, people usually comply.”
Randles added: “But, there was a discussion of the so-called Men in Black – people going around warning people about national security and intimidating them into silence. However, Robert told us that this tactic was only used on those whose instability was considered to be significant enough that, if they ever told their story publicly, it would not be considered credible.” Then there was one final tactic: if financial incentives didn’t work, and “instability” wasn’t relevant, there was always termination. Robert stressed to Randles that this last-resort tactic was rarely ever used, primarily because of the dicey and fraught nature of trying to make a murder look like a suicide or an accident. Yet, again we see how getting way too close of the truth behind the U̳F̳O̳ phenomenon can end in tragedy – fatal tragedy. Moving on…
May 22, 1949 was the date on which the first U.S. S̳e̳c̳r̳e̳t̳ary of Defense, James Forrestal, died. Specifically at 1:50 a.m. As will quickly become apparent, the circumstances surrounding Forrestal’s final hours are swamped in controversy. All that we know with absolute certainty is that in the early hours of the 22nd, Forrestal’s body was found on a third-floor canopy of the Bethesda Naval Hospital, Maryland. Did he take a fatal leap out of the window of the 13th floor of the hospital, his mind in turmoil and suicide on his mind? Was it an accident? Or, was Forrestal assassinated? Some say that Forrestal was wiped-out because he was on the verge of revealing what he knew about UFos and a̳l̳i̳e̳n̳s. Almost certainly, we\’ll never know. Now, onto another victim.
It was the summer of 1991 – specifically August 1 of that year – when the body of a middle-aged man was discovered in a hotel room in the Martinsburg, West Virginia Sheraton Inn. His body was lying in the shower. It was a grim sight for the maid that made the discovery. The man, it seemed, had committed suicide: his wrists were cut deep, something which effectively meant that without anyone to help him, the man was doomed. And, he was. It didn’t take more than a few moments for hotel staff to figure out who, exactly, the man was. He was identified by the person on the front-desk as Danny Casolaro. He was an investigative journalist of the Woodward and Bernstein variety. Casolaro’s de̳a̳t̳h̳ was a big tragedy for his family and friends. Suicide is always a terrible tragedy – and not just for the victim, but also for those left behind who have to pick up the pieces. But, was Casolaro’s de̳a̳t̳h̳ really just the suicide that it appeared to be?
The investigation continued to grow – and to the point where it wasn’t just the local police looking into the de̳a̳t̳h̳, but also conspiracy theorists. The latter group had a very good reason for looking into Casolaro’s out of the blue de̳a̳t̳h̳. For around a year and a half leading up to the point of his reported suicide, Casolaro had been looking into a powerful group of people who sound very much like candidates for a New World Order. Casolaro termed this group, “The Octopus.” Appropriately, but unfortunately and tragically, the Octopus soon got its tentacles into Casolaro and dragged him down to an untimely de̳a̳t̳h̳. His found notes concerned A̳r̳e̳a̳ 51, the dubious Majestic 12 documents, “a̳l̳i̳e̳n̳ viruses,” and Utah\’s Dugway Proving Ground.
Jim Keith was a conspiracy theorist who died under extremely weird and dubious circumstances in September 1999 after attending the annual Burning Man event in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert. Keith had headed out to the annual Burning Man festival, just north of Reno, Nevada, a day before the event began. While on stage, Keith lost his balance and fell to the ground. At first, Keith thought he had just badly bruised his leg. By the morning, though, Keith was in such agony that he had to call for paramedics, who were quickly on the scene and took him to the Washoe Medical Center, in Reno. Keith was told he had fractured his tibia and that he was to be prepped for surgery – which would require him to be anesthetized. This was when things got really strange. Keith put a call through to a friend in the conspiracy field – George Pickard – and told him that one of the attendants at the hospital had the same name as someone he had debated on the matter of the black helicopters, and just a few months earlier. Coincidence? Who knows? As the time for surgery got closer, Keith got more and more anxious. He said to his nephew, Chris Davis: “I have a feeling that if they put me under I’m not coming back. I know if I get put under, I am going to die.”
That’s exactly what happened: a blood clot took Keith’s life. The field of conspiracy-theorizing was both stunned and suspicious by this very untimely and tragic state of affairs. An unfortunate event or a well-orchestrated murder by culprits unknown? That was the question which was specifically asked most frequently in the immediate wake of Keith’s de̳a̳t̳h̳. It’s a question that still gets asked today. Hired guns, Men in Black, whatever you prefer to refer them, they are all too real. They are dangerous and deadly, menacing and murderous. And, they won’t hesitate to “remove” those who have been targeted for assassination. Watch out.