by Kenny Young

With the July, 1997 publication of PHILLIP J. CORSO'S “Day After Roswell”, the retired Lieutenant Colonel who served under Eisenhower introduced the public to the concept of the ‘seeding’ of American industry and corporations with exotic technology derived from recovered extraterrestrial vehicles.

In the midst of the hype and furor over the Corso publication, I couldn’t help but temper my disbelief in serious consideration of his claims, because of a bizarre encounter that I have been absorbed in for nearly two years.

In the spring of 1995 I received a phone call from a resident of Springfield, Ohio. “I wanted to tell you about certain reverse- engineering projects conducted on flying saucer components,” stated the voice on the other end of the phone line. The caller had tracked me down after a statewide Associated Press newspaper article was published in a Springfield, Ohio newspaper. The article had portrayed me as a ‘UFO skeptic’ who questioned the possibilities of extraterrestrial visitations.

“I’m listening,” I replied to the caller, expecting an outlandish or delusional account to commence. To my surprise, the gentleman on the other end of the line sounded cognizant, sane and knowledgeable.

“A friend of mine was an employee at Monsanto Research Corporation, on Nicholas Road near Dayton, Ohio...”

INTERESTING INTERVIEW

The caller, who claimed to be formely of the military, and I had agreed to meet for lunch at a restaurant south of Dayton, Ohio within two weeks.

I had contacted two acquaintances, Carla and Lois, who shared my interest in accounts of the bizarre, and we all thought it intriguing to meet the informant and receive his news.

We left Cincinnati with plenty of time to spare, and reaching the Dayton area an hour before our appointment, decided to venture to The Monsanto Research Complex, the focal-point of the drama.

Having been given directions to the facility by the informant, we found the complex easily. Situated near Interstate 75 south of Dayton, Ohio, on Nicholas Road, the facility is now operating under the name of Quality Chemical, and from the road appears to be several big, box- shaped buildings surrounded by fencing. The top-halves of the windowless buildings are riddled with air ducts, protruding ventilation shafts and metal railings.

Approaching the main gate, a security guard put down his sandwhich and hitched his pants up around his big belly. “Can I help you?”

“I am conducting a research project on corporations in this area, and was curious to know if this facility was once called Monsanto Research?” I asked just to break the ice, even though I already knew the answer.

“Yes it was, several years ago.”

“Do you know what type of research projects were done here?” I asked, hoping for something juicy.

“Nope, but it was some classified project from Wright Patterson Air Force Base.”

Carla and Lois thanked the security officer after we had gleaned everything possible from him (including details of several large fires occurring years prior). Driving away, we were unanimously impressed by the statement from the watchman regarding a classified Air Force project. Even though unaware of the specific activities performed at the facility he was guarding, the officer had provided ‘soft corroboration’ of Air Force affiliation, an affiliation we were now on our way to verify through the offerings of a mysterious whistle-blower who would later be known as ‘The Phantom Informant.’

We met the gentleman as he waited in his car outside the restaurant. Parking next to him, we greeted one another and entered the restaurant. Telling the gentleman of our recent experience with the security guard, he smiled with a self-assured grin and said, “That’s interesting.”

“Tell us about this friend of yours,” came the question from Carla after food was ordered.

“He’s dead, now... but he used to work at Monsanto and had a security clearance,” said the former miltary officer. “Evidently, as the story goes, parts and components from a flying saucer was taken to the Monsanto and kept there for a number of years. The situation was kept quiet, and suprisingly, extensive security precautions had been deemed unnecessary. The low-intensity security provided a good cover for the highly classified project.”

“Where did this flying saucer come from?” came the next obvious question.

“I don’t know, but we’ve all heard stories about Roswell,” said the informant as he sought to deflect the anxious questions and stay on his point. “Anyhow, there were a number of other operations at the facility that had also been going on, and there had been several accidents over the years. One involved a chemical explosion which resulted in a large fire.”

Carla chanced a quick glance to Lois, recalling the earlier statement from the security guard.

“One particular accident occurred as a result of experimentation with gravity waves. This person was injured and taken to the Miami Valley Hospital where he was held a while for observation. He was released later in the evening, but for a while he was said to be disoriented.

“Much of the reverse-engineering research was regarding gravity waves. In fact, at one point, I was told of a rod or baton-like instrument that could be pointed at a heavy block of concrete... When they would point this rod at the block, they could lift it up into the air... almost magically.

“There was also some nuclear materials that were produced at the location, and they were taken discretely by the truckload to Jackass Flats for burial and disposal. The whole facility was contaminated at one time.”

“Did this contamination have anything to do with the components?” I asked, trying to home-in on the UFO discussion.

“I’m sure some of it could have,” he replied with uncertainty, giving us the impression that he wasn’t seemingly a ‘know-it-all.’

“But the real story is the man that came in.”

Mysterious Visitor

“According to my late friend, apparently there was a certain person who visited Monsanto under armed escort. He had paid numerous visits, about a half-dozen times from the late sixties to the early seventies. This well-dressed person had a security clearance to get in, and was allowed to interact with the employees there.”

The term "INTERACT" caused eyebrows to raise, as The Phantom Informant paused to allow his enigmatic comment to sow the seed of curiousity.

“He talked to them,” the informant clarified, “but he wasn’t a regular person. This individual would talk with the workers and discuss certain matters about routine job duties and inspections, and more cryptically, would discuss matters about their own personal lives. He knew things he wasn’t supposed to know.”

“What do you mean ‘he wasn’t a regular person’?” asked Carla intensely.

“I mean he wasn’t a regular person. He looked normal, just like you or me, even wore a nice business suit, but he wasn’t a regular person. He had talked to the people, and when he did, he ruined them. He knew things he shouldn’t have. He talked with my friend, and whatever he said that day traumatized him for the rest of his life.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know, but his widow told me that from that day forward he sat up on the edge of his bed at nights... in a cold sweat, and wondered about that man. He said ‘that man knew everything about me.”

“Everything.”

With a meaningful stare, the informant emphasized his point and gazed at Lois and Carla with a hypnotic assurance.

“He knew certain unthinkable details about each person that nobody else could.”

The Phantom Informant seemed to relish holding his captive audience under his spell. Breaking his rhythym, I broke in, “Are you saying this was an alien?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed as he looked downward and talked in my direction without making eye-contact, as if half-angry that I made such a suggestion. “All I’m saying is that he wasn’t a regular person.”

Not satisfied with gleaning these details from a second-hand source, I sought after more details of the deceased gentleman in question. I was told that the wife of this worker talked to the informant on plenty of occassions, for they had been acquaintances through their mutual association with the worker, and continue to talk years after the death of the worker.

After his passing, the wife told the informant that her husband would suffer sleepless nights, agonizing in a mixed state of disbelief and fear. The wife had told of the problems the worker had for years after encountering the mysterious stranger, and had been greatly disturbed. She felt that he had an almost obsessive fear of the man. He talked of the good and honest character of his friend, and told of how his wife would be hesitant to discuss this issue, which she deemed ‘sensitive.’

The informant did not reveal whether he had an occasion to meet this shadowy figure. He did allow that any worker was forevermore effected by the well-dressed visitor, who held great power and abilities. At one point in the discussion, he stated that he couldn't be sure if this person was part of the government or the military, but knew that this was a very 'powerful' individual, and briefly wondered ‘where this individual is today.’

During the conversation, both Carla and Lois became entranced by the stories, as the informant spoke with methodological assurance, and closed each sentence with uncanny and unnerving eye-contact.

The account, if true, remains unverifiable at present, eluding that special corroborative element which would advance this tale above the realms of rumor, hearsay or even disinformational fiction. However, with the recent implication of Monsanto by retired Col. Phillip Corso in his book two years later, and with the recent admissions by Bell Labs and American Computer Company, which also draws reference from the allegations of Corso, the bizarre tale of the reverse-engineered parts and components from The Monsanto Research Complex may simply be another piece in a warped and convoluted puzzle that is too strange to be true, and if true, too difficult to believe.