The Children of Roswell by Thomas J. Carey & Donald R. Schmitt

Author:Thomas J. Carey & Donald R. Schmitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Career Press
Published: 2016-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

Glenn Dennis was a Roswell embalmer in 1947 who claimed to have had a run-in with military authorities at the RAAF base hospital after receiving phone calls from the base requesting child-sized caskets. Photo from 2000.

He found his daughter lying on her bed as she continued sobbing. Finally, her father was able to calm her enough to learn what was distressing her so terribly. The story she would confide was told between tears and near-shock. It all would sound like a bad dream, but her emotional behavior was all too real. It was something she was never prepared for. None of them were. This nightmare was for real. Slowly, she was able to verbalize exactly what the cause of it was.

She had been performing all of her regular duties at the hospital earlier that day, but grew more and more curious about all of the additional personnel who seemed to be relieving the regular staff. So when her boss, Dr. Warne, took her by the arm and led her aside, she expected either an explanation or that she, too, would be dismissed for the day. Instead, whether out of frustration from being left out of all the commotion or merely just the human desire to share all of the excitement with one of the few local staff on hand, Warne cautiously walked her to the examination room. Upon entering, surroundings that otherwise would have been quite familiar to Bush demonstrated something she did not anticipate. She was immediately taken aback to observe a number of bodies on gurneys in the middle of the room. But something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. At first she quietly cried out, “My God! They’re children!” But she soon realized that their body size was the only child-like quality. Their skin was grayish to brown in tone, and white linens covered most of each figure. But the heads—the heads were too large. And those eyes, those large eyes that wouldn’t shut. “Those staring eyes,” she cried. Panic started to quicken her heart rate, and then it happened: “One of them moved!”6 All her father could do was hold her and listen in total disbelief as she wept. He was aware of all the talk in town about the crashed spaceship outside of town and the crew of little men. But now it had touched his own family, and there was little if anything he could do to remedy the pain in his daughter’s mind. Eventually she would cry herself to sleep, though one might argue whether sleep would serve as any respite. Mental exhaustion was more likely the reason.

Mornings can be a blessing or a resumption of the same pain experienced the night before. Miriam’s professional training tried to engage and, with little thought, her fear grew more and more into anger at her boss. “Why did he have to show me something so upsetting?” became her primary motivator for returning to confront Dr. Warne. But just as important, the entire town of Roswell was abuzz with all the talk about the crashed flying saucer and the small men who piloted it.

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