Doing the Air Force Shuffle

Remember, I'm a teenager in 1965, so maybe my typin' skills ain't so good, you know what I mean? That, added to the fact that I've scanned a carbon copy, makes for a so-so version of a letter I clickity-clacked out on my trusty old manual typewriter. Now that I've self-exonerated, here's the story:

In July of 1964 -- three months after the famous Socorro, NM UFO incident, as a point of reference in time -- four boys camping out in Syracuse saw three objects high in the sky, each displaying a single red light. The story was prominently written up in The Syracuse Herald-Journal of July 15, 1964, the same date as the sighting.

Now, in this particular case, I didn't care a proverbial hill of beans (I don't even know what that means, for gosh sakes) whether these boys saw three jets, three balloons equipped with flashlights or simply experienced mass hallucinations induced by nocturnal bat droppings. Distant lights in a darkened sky are so hard to pin down.

The problem is, each boy reported three objects -- yet a local Air Force spokesman threw out the explanation that they probably saw a satellite. One satellite.

For reasons I don't remember, I didn't get around to checking this incident out until the next year, and three letters shown here illustrate the path followed. On March 15, 1965 I wrote the Air Force facility at Hancock Field, and in a response two days later from Maj. George Potter, director of information, I was rebuffed in typical official fashion and informed that my letter would be forwarded to Washington. In September, an Air Force representative in Washington replied and informed me the Air Force had no record of a July 15, 1964 incident -- rather difficult to swallow, considering that a local Air Force spokesman had a role in explaining -- badly explaining -- the sighting. No records in Washington? Whatever important or trivial things four boys saw in those early morning hours, reported immediately in a major newspaper which stimulated even more publicity, you can bet there existed an official report, and the Dept. of the Air Force in D.C. must have been fully and routinely informed. Couldn't they just acknowledge the report?

The Thin Blue UFO Line

This 1965 letter received in response to my inquiry about access to official UFO information via the Syracuse, NY Police Dept. seems innocent enough, and it is. But, for me, pulling Chief Smith's reply out more than four decades later reminds me how different things were in the later seventies when Central New York experienced a flurry of impressive UFO reports. The ensuing confusion caused chaos amongst local and area law enforcement agencies, ill-equipped to deal with UFO sightings since the closure of Project Blue Book -- when witnesses were asked to report future UFO reports to local policing agencies.

Sometime way in the future, I hope to explore that period of time, but for now I just want to contrast Chief Smith's letter with the official bedlam that would grip Central NY years later, when police officer and sheriff's deputy tempers flared, altering careers and, indeed, causing law enforcement agencies to withhold UFO reports from the public. I doubt that Chief Smith would have approved, but he was long gone by the time the 1970s UFO reports exploded on the scene. Even The National Enquirer showed up for a story, which it obtained, while Dr. Hynek's Center for UFO Studies looked for facts -- and was denied. More on that at another time.

Remembering Coral Lorenzen

This, my remembrance of Coral Lorenzen (shown in the photo with her husband Jim) with minor revisions made in August of 2000, was originally submitted to Pursuit, journal of the Society for the Investigation of the Unexplained. Like APRO, NICAP and so many other fine organizations dedicated to exploring UFOs and other scientific mysteries, SITU folded unceremoniously, and my thoughts on Coral remained unpublished. The disappearance of well-regarded research organizations — and seasoned investigators such as Coral — is a tremendous loss in the battle for truth vs. what some among us prefer to pass off as the truth.

_____

IN BRIEF

Coral E. Lorenzen, co-founder of the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization in 1952,
and co-author of several books with her late husband, Leslie James Lorenzen, died in Tucson,
Arizona, on April 12, 1988. Her passing also signifies the end of APRO, a pioneering UFO
investigative organization renowned for an extensive file of international UFO reports and
occupant cases.

Unfortunately, the close of APRO's chapter in UFO research arrived tragically. Mrs.
Lorenzen, long plagued by health problems that ranged from breaking her neck in 1979 during a
fall to the endurance of severe lung problems which required home oxygen on a daily basis, also
suffered the tragic death of her daughter a month before her own demise.

Born in Wisconsin in 1925, Mrs. Lorenzen's interest in UFOs dated back to a childhood
sighting at age nine. She created a UFO ground observer corps in 1952 in Wisconsin, the same
year the Lorenzens created APRO, of which she became international director and editor of
APRO's membership publication, The A.P.R.O. Bulletin.

Notably, Mrs. Lorenzen worked in U.S. defense plants during World War II, and in 1952
was employed by the Air Force in the range scheduling office at New Mexico's Holloman Air
Force Base, at that time "a discussion center of UFO activity," according to her first book (1962),
The Great Flying Saucer Hoax.

_____

MEMORIES OF CORAL LORENZEN

This writer knew Coral and Jim Lorenzen since 1965 as an APRO member, later as a field
investigator, and over the years was pleased to stay in touch with them via
correspondence and phone conversations — mainly with Coral, who seemed often more visible
than her husband; Jim usually seemed content to let Coral vocalize about their work. It would be
phony and presumptuous of me to portend an extremely close relationship with the Lorenzens, for
this was not the case, nor ever had I the pleasure of meeting them face to face. But they were
always there when I wanted to ask questions about UFOs as a teenager, nor were they too busy
or remote to offer a few words of encouragement when I found myself military-bound during the
Vietnam years. Afterwards, they arranged the break I desperately needed to write for national
publications.

Honesty, loyalty to her contacts and outspokenness were among Coral's most remarkable
qualities, the latter of which earned her detractors as well as friends. She knew the ins, the outs,
the dirt and the depths of UFO research and investigators everywhere, and if anybody inspired her
wrath she felt obligated to tell those whom she trusted about the indiscretions, always with a
sound moral attitude. And when she and Jim released yet another of several paperback books on
UFOs printed by a major publishing house, that particular one contained an acknowledgments
section in which they kindly thanked and honored each and every one of their many field
investigators by name, state by state, nation by nation.

While she had the talent to relate important issues in a very serious manner, Coral could be
quite light and humorous. One time, though, she made me laugh on the inside, for I dared not
confront her outrage as she described an interview of the Lorenzens conducted by a supposedly
nice enough reporter — which ended up being published in a popular monthly men's magazine
noted for nude female pictorial features. Coral had no idea that the article was destined for this
"trash," as she called it, and even though the piece proved excellent and informative, her fury
from a moral standpoint exceeded the heat of a blast furnace.

Nor was she a fan of Steven Spielberg's movie, "E.T." Perhaps with some justification,
Coral worried relentlessly during one of our conversations about the harm that the then-popular
fantasy image of a friendly little alien could do to research and reporting of the real, anything but pleasant encounters with UFO entities. Considering that the Lorenzens soberly entertained the
legitimacy and potential consequences of UFO occupant incidents long before most other research
organizations, their files bulging with international entity cases, it would not be unusual for Coral
to question the dangers of the seemingly innocent "E.T."

If there was a side to Coral that seemed particularly striking in the last three or four years,
it was her growing hostility toward "personalities" in the UFO field and their misuse of publicity
apparently for the sole purpose of making names, if not riches, for themselves: Stardom first,
science second, in essence. In fact, among her final wishes was the stipulation that after her death
APRO's membership lists would be destroyed, apparently to protect her beloved membership
from the unscrupulous. "I've just about had it," she once told me. "Everybody's fighting to be on
top. They all want to be famous and nobody wants to do the work. There are times when I tell
myself just to give it all up."

But neither Coral nor Jim gave up on APRO, and even after Jim's death a couple of years
ago she seemed determined to keep the organization and its Bulletin in progress, relying
increasingly upon deputy director Robert G. Marsland to accomplish the goals.

My last contact with Coral occurred about a year before her passing, when she phoned to
ask assistance with a project involving the famous Ubatuba "UFO fragments" case. (Note: See my article, "Coral Lorenzen and the Ubatuba UFO Fragments," at NICAP.org via the site search engine,) Thinking
back, her request had the urgency of perhaps somebody trying to tie up some loose ends before
her own departure. She had mentioned lightly in a conversation several months after Jim's death
how sometimes shortly after a spouse dies the remaining partner follows, so longevity was
apparently on her mind. As it turned out, while I felt honored to help, I accomplished virtually
nothing. Nevertheless, Coral, kind Coral, thanked me profoundly for my attempts.

In the context of our remaining phone conversations, we chatted about UFOs, APRO and
the usual mundane things that work their way into casual discussions. And yes, Coral was feeling
better, especially since her move to a new home at a higher elevation in Tucson, though oxygen
supplementation was an essential daily necessity. Coral had recently experienced a fungal lung
infection, and my suggestion that population growth in the Tucson area probably didn't help her
health prompted her to protest that the real culprits are the plants easterners bring along and
transplant in Arizona, creating an increasing breathing dilemma for allergy sufferers.

Speaking of Jim's death from cancer in recent months, Coral clearly had a rough time with
it. Talking about him was difficult for her, and she would abruptly end discussions about Jim,
saying "I still can't..." However, his presence remained strongly with her, because in the flow of
conversation she would still say "we" ("We have air conditioning," for example), rather than "I."

Coral had "guts and grit," and those of us who had the pleasure of knowing her and appreciating the enormity of her contributions are nothing less than fortunate as a result.

Fame Was Never More Fleeting

When the motion picture, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" was released in 1977, I didn't rush out to see it the first week. But some of my friends did, and one (that would be the very observant Mark, living happily in Canada, last I knew) phoned me immediately thereafter with some news. It seemed that, at some high-drama point during the movie when the character portrayed by actor Richard Dreyfuss was destroying news clippings and articles about UFOs, a familiar page appeared for mere seconds in the background. Indeed, advised young Mark, this particular visual among visuals was an article I wrote for the May, 1977 issue of Argosy Magazine's Argosy UFO.

As capable as the next guy to have a skeptical moment, I didn't believe it -- until I saw the movie for myself. At around, what was it now, about an hour and 40 minutes into the film, there it was in the background for two or three seconds, a black page with a big white circle and the term, UFO, in the middle. My article. Obviously, the attraction for the movie production crew wasn't my article, it was the captivating graphic illustration produced by the Argosy art department.

The truth is, "How to Conduct Yourself Inside a UFO" was just about the worst thing I ever wrote for
publication. You know how sometimes actors appear in movies so bad that critics say, wow, they must have done that one for beer money? Well, this article, this thought piece, was my "beer money" article, but it wasn't accomplished for beer, just for a few innocent dollars. I had written better in the past, and certainly
better in the future. But there it was, my crummy article showcased, albeit for mere seconds with the bonus of my name being illegible, in a major motion picture.

I guess it wasn't really so terrible, my brief "role" as an unknown paper movie star. What really hurts is all the wasted years, anticipating that Steven Spielberg and Co. would cough up those precious residuals due me. Must be millions of dollars by now. Oh well, maybe tomorrow. . .

APRO Membership in 1965

In 1965, I inquired about joining the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization (APRO), at that time the most famous UFO membership organization after NICAP. APRO was formed in 1952, NICAP in 1956. The letter shown here (Jan. 18, 1965) from Coral Lorenzen is essentially my first contact with Coral, who founded and operated APRO with her husband, Jim.

While NICAP maintained an impressive file of important domestic, and to a lesser extent, foreign UFO cases and was noteworthy especially for lobbying Congress to initiate a Congressional UFO investigation, APRO's concentration involved a wealth of international UFO reports -- and a very sober attitude about UFO occupant cases, the kind that a cautious NICAP wouldn't warm up to for several years, and even then not until the evidence for occupants increased significantly. For NICAP, the Barney and Betty Hill story tipped the balance, as did the Pascagoula (Hickson and Parker) case. APRO, however, had already investigated and documented similar cases for years.

Unfortunately, the far less reputable "contactees" of the world, already holding reign for a long time, had firmly established their absurd stories of visits with residents of Venus and other nearby planets, and their often easily-determined lies had muddied the UFO research waters profoundly, leaving little or no room for credible UFO occupant/abduction/trace evidence reports.

APRO folded with Coral Lorenzen's death in the eighties, a few years after Jim passed on. I'll post more about APRO soon.