Drinking coffee and looking for aliens in Roswell, New Mexico

In Roswell, in need of coffee and a bathroom, we stopped at McDonald’s.  I ordered a cup of Newman’s Own and opened out my wallet.

“Fifty-three cents please,” the cashier said.

Fifty-three cents?  Where in the United States does anyone sell coffee for 53 cents?  Back in 1978, in a nice restaurant, my grandfather loudly complained about paying 50 cents for his coffee.   He expected his cup to cost a dime, but the rest of the family understood that 50 cents was the going rate.

But that was 35 years ago.  Now, here in Roswell:  53 cents.

As I waited for my cup, another customer approached and placed some change on the counter.  “I’ll have the senior coffee,” he told the girl.

Senior coffee?  I looked down at my receipt.  Sure enough, the cashier had charged me the “senior” price for my coffee, with no ID required.  Roswell surely was a place of bizarre happenings.

The initial newspaper article told of a UFO, but the next day another military press release reported that a weather balloon had crashed.

The initial newspaper report told of a UFO, but the next day another military press release reported that a weather balloon had crashed.

Roswell is famous as the town in the-middle-of-nowhere, New Mexico, where something happened in 1947, on an isolated ranch just outside of town.  Exactly what happened, no one knows, or at least no one is telling.  Many believed—and still believe—that a UFO with three or four aliens on board crashed and burned on the scrubby plains outside of town.  The official story from the U.S. military was a crashed weather balloon.  The “Roswell Incident” has made this small city, located 200 miles from anywhere else, an unlikely destination.  Like many others, we had come to Roswell to find out what happened back in 1947.  The senior coffee was—I guess—a bonus.

To get answers, we turned to Dennis Balthaser and his UFO Tour, which, as he informed us, is the #1 Attraction in Roswell on TripAdvisor.  He’s not so popular at Roswell’s International UFO Museum and Research Center, which has banned him from the premises.  I wasn’t surprised when Dennis told us of his banishment, as he struck me as a man of strong opinions.  Sometimes battles rage bigger and longer in small communities than large ones, because the combatants can’t disappear into a crowd.

Dennis was a congenial host in Roswell and full of information about the mysteries of the 1947 "Roswell Incident".

Dennis was a congenial host in Roswell and full of information about the mysteries of the 1947 “Roswell Incident”.

Dennis spent more than two hours driving us around Roswell and out to the former military base where the military might have packed some aliens off to another facility in Dayton, Ohio.

The Roswell Incident occurred on a July night in 1947 when something fell out of the sky. Rancher Mack Brazel found debris from the crash when he went out with his teenaged neighbor to check on his sheep.  He took some of the material back to his shed and then brought a few pieces to show his neighbors, the Proctors.  They suggested that the debris could be the remnants of a spacecraft and told him he should bring the material to the sheriff.

A strange series of events followed.  Major Jesse Marcel, an  intelligence officer for the 509th (Atomic) Bomb Group which was based at Roswell Army Air Field (RAAF), went out to the ranch to investigate.  The Roswell Daily Record, via a military press release, reported as  a flying saucer. But as higher ups got wind of the crash, the story changed.  The next day, the Air Force announced, in a second press release, that the saucer was  actually a weather balloon. To read the entire story of the incident, check out the UFO Museum’s description.

The flying saucer story was quashed and forgotten.  The citizens of Roswell didn’t want to make trouble.  World War II had just ended.  After pushing back Hitler, the military enjoyed unsurpassed support and respect.  Best not to ask too many questions.  Nine years earlier, Orson Welles’s radio broadcast, “The War of the Worlds,” had caused hysteria and panic, with many believing that the fictional drama was an authentic news report.  Why stir up that pot again?

But then came the 1960s, when everything was subject to questions.  In Roswell, residents began to share stories.  Mack Brazel had been warned not to talk, and didn’t.  But the radio station owner said he’d been told that his broadcasting license would be pulled if he reported on the incident.  The local mortician said that the Army had called to inquire about the availability of child-sized coffins.  The sheriff’s two daughters recalled hearing death threats made to their parents.  As the years went on, various military personnel sworn to secrecy began to talk about what they remembered, mostly fragments and bits of information.  Lots of secrecy. Boxes put on planes.  Heads without noses, and slits for mouths.  Shiny materials that could be crushed into a ball and then spring back into their original shape.

Dennis is a man obsessed with finding the truth.  Somebody knows something, but those somebodies won’t with be with us forever.  Many have already died, taking their Roswell secrets with them. Dennis encouraged us to go the Museum, take in more information, and make up our own minds. We shook hands and headed over to the museum on North Main Street.

On the February morning when we visited, the International UFO Museum in Roswell was bustling with people interested in learning more about the Roswell Incident.

On the February morning when we visited, the International UFO Museum in Roswell was bustling with people interested in learning more about the Roswell Incident.

The Roswell UFO Museum mostly consists some hokey alien figures (fun for photos) and  walls covered with newspaper clippings.  Much of the information echoed what Dennis had told us.  But at the Museum, I learned that 1947 had been the summer of UFOs.

On June 24, pilot Kenneth Arnold reported seeing some kind of disc flying at supersonic speeds in the vicinity of Washington’s Mount Rainier.   His report received widespread media coverage.  In the following three weeks, people reported hundreds of UFO sitings all over the country, including a report in Milton, Massachusetts, near my hometown of Weymouth.

These UFO sitings came on the heels of reports from wartime military pilots of seeing glowing orbs floating in the sky, phenomena that were dubbed “foo fighters.” Pilots initially believed that these “foo fighters” belonged to the Germans—that they were some kind of flare or secret weapon—but after the war, German pilots revealed that they too had spotted the orbs.

What were the foo fighters?  An official panel reported that they might have been electrostatic phenomenon, but they didn’t really know.  Was the Roswell Incident the culmination of a UFO hysteria that created a UFO out of thin air?  Did one story beget another until we arrived at a grand finale?  Or were the UFO sitings that summer—and the foo fighters–the explorations of extraterrestrials who had discovered Earth, and the Roswell crash their grand finale?

I don’t know if a UFO landed outside of Roswell.  But after my visit to this off-the-beaten track locale, I’m convinced that something happened in Roswell and that the military didn’t want the public to know exactly what.  Extraterrestrials?  Maybe.  Experimental weaponry or devices related to the atomic bomb, or which monitored Soviet activity? Possibly.  Could the alleged bodies have been human, disabled children or adults?  Sounds far-fetched–and I don’t want to start any rumors—but 1947 was the era of the Tuskegee Study, in which scientists knowingly allowed syphilis to progress unchecked in hundreds of black men so that they could study its effects over time.  Anything’s possible.

Then again, maybe it was a case of too much coffee.  At 53 cents a cup, it’s easy to keep on drinking.

Aliens in Roswell.  Pictured here is my son, NOT my grandson.  But now I wonder:  should I try the senior coffee scam at home and see if I can get away with it?  I do have an AARP card.

Aliens in Roswell. Pictured here is my son, NOT my grandson. But now I wonder: should I try the senior coffee scam at home and see if I can get away with it? I do have an AARP card.

Additional information:

According to this 2013 NBC News report, “After 66 years, the Roswell UFO Incident belongs to the ages,” the final report from the U.S. Air Force, in 1997, stated that the  wreckage came from balloon-borne experiments used to monitor Soviet nuclear blasts, and that the bodies were probably crash dummies used to judge the effect of high-altitude falls.  (Both Dennis and the UFO Museum, however, point out that such dummies weren’t invented or used until several years later).

Every July, Roswell hosts the Roswell UFO Festival, which packs this town of 50,000 people with 20,000 guests interested in everything from pure fun to serious research about UFOs.

Another UFO-related event is the Experiencers Speak conference, which is a gathering of people who believe they have been abducted by UFOs. In 2013, the conference was held in Portland, Maine (See Portland Phoenix article, “Alien abductees gather in Portland“).

Exeter, New Hampshire, the home of UFO abductees Betty and Barney Hill, is taking a page from Roswell and trying to develop its own UFO tradition, with the Exeter UFO Festival.

Art amidst the mills of North Adams

November December 2013 104

Fall leaves and outdoor swimming go great together!

A decaying mill town on a gray November weekend in an isolated corner of Massachusetts might seem an unlikely destination, but North Adams had been on my radar for a while.

The  Massachusetts Museum of Modern Art (Mass MoCA) offered intriguing, colorful and large-scale modern art likely to engage a 12-year-old non-artsy boy.  The Porches Inn provided a 24-hour outdoor heated pool and hot tub.  And Spruce Hill, just outside of town, is listed in Jeffrey Romano’s book, 100 Classic Hikes in New England.  Plus, right above town, we could experience the hair-pin turn on Route 2.  Why go to Disney World when North Adams awaits?

North Adams is a classic New England mill town, with acres and acres of massive red-brick empty mill buildings. Manufacturing in North Adams dates back to the Revolution, but now industry is all but dead, the final nail in the coffin coming with the 1985 closure of the Sprague Electric Company plant on Marshall Street (previously the home of the country’s largest textile print mill).  The Sprague plant was much more than a small-town components factory; it had state-of-the-art equipment and served as the company’s research and development center.  Employees included physicists and electrical engineers as well as line workers making electrical components.  At its peak in the 1960s, the company employed more than 4,000 workers.  The 1985 closure struck a massive blow to the community.

In the 19th century, sheep farmers in the hills around North Adams abandoned their fields for the relative comforts offered by row houses in the town.

In the 19th century, sheep farmers in the hills around North Adams abandoned their farms for jobs in the mills and the comforts offered by the row houses in town (on the Spruce Hill hike).

Soon after plant’s closure, town officials set their sights on reviving the town. In 1999, Mass MoCA opened at the sprawling Sprague complex to become the world’s largest contemporary art museum.  Although it’s unlikely that art will ever replace Sprague’s 4,000 jobs (plus the related jobs in other businesses), Mass MOCA has served as the cornerstone of the town’s revival, with other art galleries opening in its wake, along with restaurants, shops, and The Porches Inn.

Mass MoCA is fun – the perfect art outing for families with tweens or teens (and many were wandering around the place). Kids who might be bored with the portrait galleries of the Museum of Fine Arts will find much here to intrigue them.  The exhibits are constantly changing.

When we visited, Jason Middlebrook’s monumental hanging water fountain sculpture, Falling Water, packed a big “wow” factor. Mark Dion’s Octagon Room offered an intriguing bunker-like space to explore.  The colorful patterned paintings of Sol Lewitt (more or less on permanent exhibit) provide hope to non-artists that they too can create something beautiful, as Lewitt allows others to use his patterns to recreate his art.

The marble bridge, unique in North America, offers another sort of sculpture at Natural Bridge State Park, just outside of town.

The marble bridge, unique in North America, offers another sort of sculpture at Natural Bridge State Park, just outside of town.

European sculptor Joseph Beuys’s three-dimensional montage, Lightening with Stag in Its Glare, intends, per the catalog, to evoke “the spiritual power of animals and nature” while celebrating “the victory of socialist warmth and self-determination over materialist greed and alienation.”  For kids, however, the most interesting question is whether the irregularly shaped brown objects lying on the floor are lacquered turds or primordial worms (or perhaps both).

November December 2013 051

 

 

Just getting up to see Michael Oatman’s Airstream trailer repurposed as some kind of exotic aircraft (titled “The Shining”) is a unique museum adventure.  Visitors have to climb a few flights of stairs past old boilers and pipes to reach the outdoor platform where the trailer is perched.  The rusted pipes and equipment, which probably clanked and boiled well into the 1980s, now seem ancient.

A chilly November dawn in North Adams.

A chilly November dawn in North Adams.

Across the street from MASS MoCA, the Porches Inn is laid back and easy-going, with 24/7 access to the hot tub, sauna and pool. Visitors can order happy hour drinks at the small bar and sip them in the living room.  We decided to catch the sunrise each morning from the hot tub, although we kept forgetting to get up early enough due to the recent “fall back” switch to Eastern Standard Time.  Although we missed the official moment of the sun rising, we enjoyed sitting in the hot tub sipping fresh coffee and watching the pink sky.

The 3.5-mile loop hike up to Spruce Hill provided a good opportunity for leg-stretching and views of North Adams and Mount Greylock.  The loop trail through the forest took us along a massive beaver swamp, with many freshly chewed trees. The beavers remained hidden.

View from the summit of Spruce Hill, with Mount Greylock in the background.

View from the summit of Spruce Hill, with Mount Greylock in the background. The ledge was slippery, with a steep drop-off on one side. I lost my footing and fell hard on my behind, but at least I was on the right of the ledge!

In Mass MoCA, I took plenty of photos of the art, but I can’t publish those shots online. So when I was in North Adams, I tried to make my own art by shooting artsy photos. If you don’t know what they are, then I guess I have succeeded in creating modern abstractions (see below).

By the way, last year, on this same November weekend, we made our first-ever trip to Orlando to visit Harry Potter world at Universal Studios.  Jeremy rated that trip as a five-star adventure.  Our weekend in North Adams:  4.5 stars.  A pretty good rating, I’d say, for a place that exemplifies “November” in New England (i.e. gray, barren, and chilly).  Chamber of Commerce, take note:  with the right spin, marketing North Adams as the alternative destination for families weary of roller coasters just might work.

What kind of monster beavers can fell a tree this thick?

What kind of monster beavers can fell a tree this thick?

 

Stream in fall.

Stream in fall.

 

Modern art in the forest: the exposed veins of a tree.

Modern art in the forest: the exposed veins of a tree.

The wind howls, and we stir the pot

As I write at the kitchen table, a pulled pork lunch for 17 simmers in the crockpot and the wind shrieks above the stove vents.  That wind has been howling for the past four days, hitting a peak gust of 121 mph on Sunday, when the temperature dropped to -25 and the wind chill was a crazy -76. And we summit volunteers are loving it!

Standing on the summit, with the Observatory Tower in the background.  On the first couple of days, we saw many winter hikers at the summit, before the advent of  the high winds that made hiking very unsafe.

Standing on the summit, with the Observatory Tower in the background. On the first couple of days, we saw many winter hikers at the summit, before the advent of the high winds that made hiking very unsafe.

The possibility of extreme weather is one of the main reasons why I signed on for the eight-day volunteer stint in January.  I knew that extreme weather meant we wouldn’t do any real hiking, but I was okay with that, as I’m rusty on my winter hiking skills. I had the warm layers I needed to safely push myself into 100 mph winds, plus a pair of sneakers for indoor laps around the rotunda to get some exercise in between short jaunts outdoors.

 

During my stay on the mountain, I’ve been reading about the winter of 1870-71, when State Geologist Charles Hitchcock and Assistant Geologist Joshua Huntington, along with three other men, and several visitors, spent the first winter on Mount Washington.

This scientific expedition set up shop in a small room carved out of the depot for the just-completed cog railway.  They spent the winter doing weather observations, using some of the same instruments that the observers use today.  They communicated to the outside world via daily telegraphs and were constantly heading out in extreme weather to repair the telegraph line.

Winter on Mount Washington

During their first full-on winter storm, some time in December, the group spent a frightening night huddled around the coal stove, as they listened to the roar of the wind and wondered if their quarters would hold fast.  The building, which was held down with chains, withstood the wind, and gave the group faith that they would weather future storms. Glass panes might shatter and they might have to stay up much of the night keeping the stoves going, but they could enjoy listening to howling winds rather than fearing them.

Hitchcock, Huntington and their companions each wrote different sections of Winter on Mount Washington, the 1871 book describing the expedition.  The prose is dense, written in the leisurely 19th century style that can be tedious for modern readers.  But what strikes me as I read about their days on the mountain is how little the winter experience has changed.  Although the men lacked today’s comforts, they were perfectly cozy in their small quarters. They got up early and piled on their gear to watch the sunrise.  They watched the clouds float up over Jefferson and Adams.  They marveled at the sunsets over the Franconia Ridge.

In Chapter 11, “Life on the Summit,” Joshua Huntington wrote,

Most persons suppose that life on Mount Washington in winter must be gloomy, and gloomy enough it would be, at times, when the summit is enveloped in dense clouds for weeks, if it were not for the cheering click of the telegraph instrument.  They might suppose also that time would be extended indefinitely; that at night we should wish it was morning, and that in the morning we should long for night to come, and thus drag out a wear existence.  If the time of any persons in excellent health is wholly occupied in a pursuit that is congenial they are rarely gloomy, and are almost unconscious of the flight of time. But here, besides good health and time occupied, there is an excitement found nowhere else.”

“One gorgeous sunrise throwing a flood of light across a sea of clouds, one glorious sunset tingeing the clouds with crimson and gold, and the sun descends leaving the blush of day upon these snowy summits, or a storm unprecedented at lower elevations, infuse into our life enough that is grand and sublime to occupy the thoughts for weeks. With such surroundings, a person, on account of the intense excitement, may live too fast to have life extended to full three score years and ten; but there is a pleasure in it that would fully compensate for a few days cut off from the number to which life might be lengthened if passed in some quiet retreat, undisturbed by anything hat arouses the whole being, and carries the mind into ecstasies of delight. So days and weeks pass, and we are almost unconscious of the lapse of time.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

The Stage Building at sunset. This building, which serves as a depot for the Cog Railway, is a replica of the 1932 Observatory where the record wind was recorded.   The current Observatory building opened in 1980.

The Stage Building at sunset. This building, which serves as a depot for the Cog Railway, is a replica of the 1932 Observatory where the record wind was recorded. The current Observatory building opened in 1980.

My post here is reprint from my January 28, 2014 post on the MWOB “Observer Comments” blog.  Below, more photos from winter on Mount Washington.