-Caveat Lector- > [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: > > if this hasnt already appeared on CTRL, please forward it--there is a man > there named andrew hennessy that may be interested > thanks > liz > > ----------------------------------------------------- > > Subject: PARA-DISCUSS: TRUE STORY OF DRACO HUMAN SACRIFICE > Date: Thu, 29 Jul 1999 15:23:04 -0700 > From: "DK Nihoa" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> > Reply-To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] > To: "LIST: STARFRIENDS" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>, > "LIST: HEOT List" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>, > "LIST: PARA-DISCUSS" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> > > FROM: http://www.wiolawa.com/true.htm I'm not sure if > you've heard this before but it is from Wiolawa's website > and it was just too fascinating not to share! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- > TRUE STORY OF DRACO HUMAN SACRIFICE WHICH HAPPENS ALL > AROUND OUR PLANET EARTH Part 1.... I am submitting to all > Dragonslayers a multipart true life adventure as told to > me by one of our members as he experienced it 24 years > ago. Some of you know him for who he is; a retired, at the > age of 22, highly decorated Vietnam war veteran who was > Special Forces trained and who served three tours fighting > communists, rescuing POW's and working special missions > for Air America. It cost him his right leg, yet he was > still well equipped to meet this next period of his life. > Keep in mind that the Soldier had no knowledge of Dracs at > the time. When we met, and he began his new education to > what is going on around him, I could see curious > recognition from time to time coupled with a deep fear > that he quickly hid. It was three months later that he > told me of his 18 month ordeal in the Superstition > Mountains in May of 1975 . The story came grudgingly at > first; obviously with much mental pain, and with > occasional reluctance and reservation. But because of what > he knows now, taught by myself and others on DS, he knew > he couldn't keep hidden what he now recognized as a Draco > base camp. He desires to use for the present a fictitious > name for his boss.... we will call "Phil Allen". Here is > the beginning of his story.... of his life for two years > among the Dracos and Pteradons with their little ( 5 foot) > Pets!! In May of that year, I was asked to join a group of > men who were bringing gold out of the Superstitions. The > leader, Phil Allen, spent 20 years of his life researching > Mexican archives, Spanish landgrants and Mexican > Government documents. He discovered what he believed to be > routes to 9 of the 12 Peralta family mines. Phil enlisted > the aid of several others and together they found all 9. > Using pack mules and horses, they moved in electric > generators, hand held drills, food and supplies and set up > a base camp 15 miles in. Others would keep this camp > supplied and alternating teams of men would keep the > mining camp supplied....well supplied…especially with ice, > lots of ice as they liked to drink cold beverages, the one > pleasure of the long hot day. Since the last of the mines, > No.'s 7, 8, & 9 were the most productive, they started > there, core mining much in the ways the old timers had 150 > yrs prior. The operation was covert. It was illegal for > civilians to own bulk gold in those days. It was processed > and flown out of the country. At 18 to 25 ounces per ton, > it was a lucrative business at best. The mining camp was > very small. It was at the top of a small arroyo or > 'holler' and measured about 60' square.. flaked on two > walls by cliffs going up...on one by a sheer 90' drop-off > and open on the arroyo side which looked downhill of the > 1/4 mile long arroyo. The mines were in the sides of the > arroyo walls... so was the Draco entrance to their lair. > Two-thirds of the way down from the mini-camp was a small > stand of pinion pine trees..about 200 yards away and > downhill. Phil Allen knew. He had known of their existence > for over 20 years. He had read of them in the old > archives. He knew what they were ...but not why- they > were. Phil had spent his life in these mountains running > down leads to the gold he was searching for. He saw them > from time to time, following him, pacing his movements. > Terrified at first, he soon came to the conclusion that if > he simply ignored them nothing would happen…and nothing > ever did. It was different at the little camp, for in the > arroyo walls was a fourth entrance, hidden behind brush as > were all of the others. At first the group would set up a > night guard for themselves. But it soon became evident > that they could not continue mining by day and guarding by > night. It was decided that they would hire a full time > night guard. They lost five men in the first three months. > One simply ran-never to be heard of again. Two returned > via the base camp, not even stopping for water or > supplies, they rode their horses clear out to U.S. 60 and > on home! Two were found shredded, some parts missing but > obviously quite dead. They were found down toward the end > of the arroyo near a small stand of pinion pine trees, > about two hundred yards from the camp. This was where the > Dracs congregated and fed at night. This was were the > Soldier's year and a half nightmare began. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Part two Let's digress for a moment and set some > background to this epic. Phil and I met years ago shortly > after I had retired from Vietnam. We both had an affinity > for guns and through the heat of a summer afternoon we > drank beer at a bar in Apache Junction while > discussingballistics and shooting. It came out that Phil > and some friends owned a local horse ranch and when > called, worked as stuntmen for whatever Hollywood movie > set that needed them. We got along famously and over the > course of the next two years, I learned horses-how to > ride, how to care for them…how to do stunt falls…trick > mounting and dismounting; and guns. They taught me how to > fast draw, shooting two hundred rounds a day and reloading > them in the evening. They had a quick draw holster rig > that was handmade for me and periodically I would join > them in the little skits doing stunt shoots and falls they > put on at Rawhide. Conversely, I taught them long range > shooting; being the expert, and at the end of two years, > all five were as deadly at 800 yard shots, as I had become > at 50 feet with my Long Colt 45. We had fun. >From time to > time the men would disappear for a few weeks at a time to > do movie stunts leaving the operation of the ranch to me. > More often, Phil would go with some of the men and some > others that I didn't know into the Superstition Mountains. > When I would ask about it, I was told simply, "Don't ask!" > - and I accepted that. In May of '75 Phil came to me and > explained what they were doing. Phil had spent his entire > life researching and prospecting in the Superstitions. He > spent months in northern Mexico in libraries, monasteries > and in family archives researching Spanish land grants > looking for information on what others thought were only > rumors, the mysteriousPeralta gold mines. These were the > mines that the Peralta family supposedly had developed > between the mid 1700's and the early 1800's. Phil spent > twenty years of his life being rich one-year and then dirt > poor the next. He found 9 of the 12 reported mines. It was > at this point that Phil decided he needed my help. After > an afternoon and most of one evening explaining what he > had accomplished and what he wanted me to guard, Phil > offered me what appeared at the time to be an exorbitant > amount of money for the job. I was to move into the > mountains with them and literally live there; sleeping > days and doing the guard job at nights. I would be > guarding against would be claim jumpers and the occasional > weekend warrior who had stumbled off the beaten path who > needed guidance to forest service trails ........and > against the Others. Phil then told me what he had seen > over the years. Only fleeting looks and occasional glances > of men who looked like lizards. Apparently the mines, > No.'s 7 , 8 and 9 were nestled in the middle of a whole > community of them. I had a hundred questions none of which > Phil could answer. Two things came out, number 1- they did > not attack the miners unless they went down to the stand > of pinions near the end of the arroyo at night and-- > number 2- there were unspeakable horrible screams, growls > and sounds that came up the arroyo for hours on end. I was > to ignore them and under no circumstance leave the safety > of the camp. I knew Phil Allen; and despite the disbelief > running around inside my head, knew that he believed what > he had just told me. I then suggested that the authorities > be called in and was promptly told that the mining > operation was covert at best, since owning bulk gold was > illegal. Phil had worked too long and too hard all of his > life for this fortune to lose it over some > "anthropological throw back". I went to bed that night > doubting Phil Allen for the first time since knowing him. > But for $5000 a month, I'll stay up nights and listen to > anything scream a little. At dawn the next morning we were > on our way to the base camp with a small convoy of supply > trucks, pickups pulling horse trailers and a new crew to > replace those at the base camp. The operation lacked for > nothing. At the main camp we had steak, beer, water, tents > with comfortable bunks and beds, generators and the fuel > to run them with electric lights-there were barbecue > grills, hibachi's and ice; Sweet wonderful ice. 105 > temperatures were a daytime norm and 110+ were too > frequent to count. We lived on ice. I was told that at > least half of the supplies muled in to us every few days > was ice. We arrived at the mining camp about 4pm on my > first day. As we rode up the arroyo the stand of pinions > was pointed out to me. I stopped to have a look around and > everything appeared to be normal. There were no signs of > anyone or anything having ever been there. Off to the > north in the canyon wall could be seen the entrance to > what Phil called their cave. It was slightly larger than > 4' in diameter and was perfectly round. Nature doesn't do > straight lines or round ones. That was obviously man made. > As I turned to go back to my horse and continue up to the > camp, something caught my eye between two clumps of scrub > grass. Moving one aside I saw what immediately scared the > living hell out of me. It was a footprint...... three > toed, wide and long enough for my size 11 Cochran's to fit > inside the print.This brought goosebumps up along my arms > and a chill to my spine. "Lets go." I said. I suddenly > didn't want to be there anymore. My mind was having a hard > time absorbing what I'd just seen and making it come out > normal. One part said that what you just saw cannot be, > and the other part said, well, there it is. It was then > too, as we rode up the arroyo, I understood the Hollywood > movie term we've all heard, "I need a drink". Phil had > some cold Beam at the camp. " to be continued-we've had > some problems" -------------------- > FROM: http://www.wiolawa.com/true.htm > I'm not sure if you've heard this before but it is from > Wiolawa's website and it was just too fascinating not to > share! > ---------------------------------------------------------- > > TRUE STORY OF DRACO HUMAN SACRIFICE WHICH HAPPENS ALL > AROUND OUR PLANET EARTH > > Part 1.... > > I am submitting to all Dragonslayers a multipart true life > > adventure as told to > me by one of our members as he experienced it 24 years > ago. Some of you > know him for who he is; a retired, at the age of 22, > highly decorated Vietnam > war veteran who was Special Forces trained and who served > three tours > fighting communists, rescuing POW's and working special > missions for Air > America. It cost him his right leg, yet he was still well > equipped to meet > this next period of his life. Keep in mind that the > Soldier had no knowledge > of Dracs at the time. When we met, and he began his new > education to what is > going on around him, I could see curious recognition from > time to time > coupled with a deep fear that he quickly hid. It was three > months later that > he told me of his 18 month ordeal in the Superstition > Mountains in May of > 1975 . The story came grudgingly at first; obviously with > much mental pain, > and with occasional reluctance and reservation. But > because of what he > knows now, taught by myself and others on DS, he knew he > couldn't keep > hidden what he now recognized as a Draco base camp. He > desires to use for the present a fictitious name for his > boss.... we will call "Phil Allen". > > Here is the beginning of his story.... of his life for two > years among the Dracos and Pteradons with their little ( 5 > foot) Pets!! > > In May of that year, I was asked to join a group of men > who were bringing gold > out of the Superstitions. The leader, Phil Allen, spent 20 > years of his life > researching Mexican archives, Spanish landgrants and > Mexican Government > documents. He discovered what he believed to be routes to > 9 of the 12 > Peralta family mines. Phil enlisted the aid of several > others and together they > found all 9. Using pack mules and horses, they moved in > electric generators, > hand held drills, food and supplies and set up a base camp > 15 miles in. > Others would keep this camp supplied and alternating teams > of men would keep > the mining camp supplied....well > supplied…especially with ice, lots of ice > as they liked to drink cold beverages, the one pleasure of > the long hot day. > Since the last of the mines, No.'s 7, 8, & 9 were the most > productive, they > started there, core mining much in the ways the old timers > had 150 yrs prior. > The operation was covert. It was illegal for civilians to > own bulk gold in > those days. It was processed and flown out of the country. > At 18 to 25 > ounces per ton, it was a lucrative business at best. > The mining camp was very small. It was at the top of a > small arroyo > or 'holler' and measured about 60' square.. flaked on two > walls by cliffs going > up...on one by a sheer 90' drop-off and open on the arroyo > side which looked > downhill of the 1/4 mile long arroyo. The mines were in > the sides of the > arroyo walls... so was the Draco entrance to their lair. > Two-thirds of the > way down from the mini-camp was a small stand of pinion > pine trees..about 200 > yards away and downhill. > Phil Allen knew. He had known of their existence for over > 20 years. > He had read of them in the old archives. He knew what they > were ...but not why- > they were. Phil had spent his life in these mountains > running down leads to > the gold he was searching for. He saw them from time to > time, following him, > pacing his movements. Terrified at first, he soon came to > the conclusion > that if he simply ignored them nothing would > happen…and nothing ever did. > > It was different at the little camp, for in the arroyo > walls was a fourth > entrance, hidden behind brush as were all of the others. > At first the group > would set up a night guard for themselves. But it soon > became evident that > they could not continue mining by day and guarding by > night. It was decided > that they would hire a full time night guard. They lost > five men in the > first three months. One simply ran-never to be heard of > again. Two returned > via the base camp, not even stopping for water or > supplies, they rode their > horses clear out to U.S. 60 and on home! Two were found > shredded, some > parts missing but obviously quite dead. They were found > down toward the end > of the arroyo near a small stand of pinion pine trees, > about two hundred > yards from the camp. This was where the Dracs congregated > and fed at night. > This was were the Soldier's year and a half nightmare > began. > ---------------------------------------------------------- > > Part two > > Let's digress for a moment and set some background to this > epic. Phil > and I met years ago shortly after I had retired from > Vietnam. We both had > an affinity for guns and through the heat of a summer > afternoon we drank beer > at a bar in Apache Junction while discussingballistics and > shooting. It came out > that Phil and some friends owned a local horse ranch and > when called, worked > as stuntmen for whatever Hollywood movie set that needed > them. We got along > famously and over the course of the next two years, I > learned horses-how > to ride, how to care for them…how to do stunt > falls…trick mounting and > dismounting; and guns. They taught me how to fast draw, > shooting two hundred > rounds a day and reloading them in the evening. They had a > quick draw > holster rig that was handmade for me and periodically I > would join them in the > little skits doing stunt shoots and falls they put on at > Rawhide. > > Conversely, I taught them long range shooting; being the > expert, and at the end of > two years, all five were as deadly at 800 yard shots, as I > had become at 50 > feet with my Long Colt 45. We had fun. > >From time to time the men would disappear for a few weeks > at a time to > do movie stunts leaving the operation of the ranch to me. > More often, Phil > would go with some of the men and some others that I > didn't know into the > Superstition Mountains. When I would ask about it, I was > told simply, "Don't > ask!" - and I accepted that. In May of '75 Phil came to me > and explained what > they were doing. Phil had spent his entire life > researching and prospecting > in the Superstitions. He spent months in northern Mexico > in libraries, > monasteries and in family archives researching Spanish > land grants looking > for information on what others thought were only rumors, > the mysteriousPeralta gold mines. These were the mines > that the Peralta family supposedly had developed between > the mid 1700's and the early 1800's. Phil spent twenty > years of his life being rich one-year and then dirt poor > the next. He found 9 of the 12 reported mines. It was at > this > point that Phil decided he needed my help. After an > afternoon and most of one evening explaining what he had > accomplished and what he wanted me to guard, Phil offered > me what appeared at the time to be an exorbitant amount of > money for the job. I was to move into the mountains with > them and literally live there; sleeping days and doing the > > guard job at nights. I would be guarding against would be > claim jumpers and the > occasional weekend warrior who had stumbled off the beaten > path who needed > guidance to forest service trails ........and against the > Others. > > Phil then told me what he had seen over the years. Only > fleeting looks and occasional glances of men who looked > like lizards. > Apparently the mines, No.'s 7 , 8 and 9 were nestled in > the middle of a whole community > of them. I had a hundred questions none of which Phil > could answer. Two > things came out, > > number 1- they did not attack the miners unless they went > down to the stand of pinions near the end of the arroyo at > night and-- > > number 2- there were unspeakable horrible screams, growls > and sounds that came up the arroyo for hours on end. > > I was to ignore them and under no circumstance leave the > safety of the camp. I knew Phil Allen; and despite the > disbelief running > around inside my head, knew that he believed what he had > just told me. I then > suggested that the authorities be called in and was > promptly told that the > mining operation was covert at best, since owning bulk > gold was illegal. Phil > had worked too long and too hard all of his life for this > fortune to lose it > over some "anthropological throw back". I went to bed that > night doubting Phil > Allen for the first time since knowing him. But for $5000 > a month, I'll stay > up nights and listen to anything scream a little. > At dawn the next morning we were on our way to the base > camp with a > small convoy of supply trucks, pickups pulling horse > trailers and a new crew > to replace those at the base camp. The operation lacked > for nothing. At the > main camp we had steak, beer, water, tents with > comfortable bunks and beds, > generators and the fuel to run them with electric > lights-there were barbecue > grills, hibachi's and ice; Sweet wonderful ice. 105 > temperatures were a > daytime norm and 110+ were too frequent to count. We lived > on ice. I was > told that at least half of the supplies muled in to us > every few days was ice. > We arrived at the mining camp about 4pm on my first day. > As we rode > up the arroyo the stand of pinions was pointed out to me. > I stopped to have > a look around and everything appeared to be normal. There > were no signs of > anyone or anything having ever been there. Off to the > north in the canyon > wall could be seen the entrance to what Phil called their > cave. It was > slightly larger than 4' in diameter and was perfectly > round. Nature doesn't > do straight lines or round ones. That was obviously man > made. As I turned > to go back to my horse and continue up to the camp, > something caught my eye > between two clumps of scrub grass. Moving one aside I saw > what immediately > scared the living hell out of me. It was a footprint...... > three toed, wide and > long enough for my size 11 Cochran's to fit inside the > print.This brought goosebumps up along my arms and a chill > to my spine. "Lets go." I said. I suddenly didn't want > to be there anymore. My mind was having a hard time > absorbing what I'd > just seen and making it come out normal. One part said > that what you just saw > cannot be, and the other part said, well, there it is. It > was then too, as we > rode up the arroyo, I understood the Hollywood movie term > we've all heard, > "I need a drink". Phil had some cold Beam at the camp. > > > > " to be continued-we've had some problems" DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion and informational exchange list. Proselyzting propagandic screeds are not allowed. Substance—not soapboxing! These are sordid matters and 'conspiracy theory', with its many half-truths, misdirections and outright frauds is used politically by different groups with major and minor effects spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought. That being said, CTRL gives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and always suggests to readers; be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no credeence to Holocaust denial and nazi's need not apply. Let us please be civil and as always, Caveat Lector. ======================================================================== Archives Available at: http://home.ease.lsoft.com/archives/CTRL.html http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/ ======================================================================== To subscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email: SUBSCRIBE CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED] To UNsubscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email: SIGNOFF CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED] Om
