Lehal Library

me this very specific instruction: “Mr. Monroe, be at Eaglehill at 7 A.M. on July fourth.” Surprised, I asked for a repeat of the instruction. It came exactly the same: “Mr. Monroe, be at Eaglehill at 7 A.M. on July fourth.” Before I had a chance to ask why or what it was all about, the form faded and disappeared. I then rolled back into my body and sat up and wrote it down very carefully. The next night when I performed the same act, almost immediately the form was there again with the same message. It was very definite —almost a command—and again the figure faded before I had a chance to query further. I tried the third night to see if it replicated again, but there was no response. What was so impressive about it was that the instruction was very clear. And it was repeated exactly the second night. Most important, “they” actually called me by name. This instruction elicited a great deal of curiosity from me and those of my friends and family to whom I related it. We speculated in many ways about it but the big question was: “Where is Eaglehill?” It was about April when the instruction was given and there seemed to be plenty of time to find out what the message meant. But try as we might, we could not find any place called Eaglehill. After a few weeks, I more or less forgot about the idea. An event changed all that. While visiting friends several hundred miles from home, we were having dinner out on the patio of their house. My host had a radio receiver that automatically scanned various frequencies such as police, fire, and so on. We were sitting there chatting when suddenly over the radio came someone saying “Eaglehill.” It jarred my attention immediately. I excitedly asked my host what the radio was tuned to. He replied that it was the FAA aircraft channel for instructions to and from aircraft. I waited eagerly for something more on the radio. My host asked curiously what was so important. Needless to say, I didn’t feel that I could tell him. A couple of minutes later the radio came to life loudly and clearly: “This is United 351 over Eaglehill at twelve thousand feet.” The next day, after a long drive home, I went to the FAA facility at our local airport and asked the FAA man where Eaglehill was. He