Dear Ann (Part Seven)

Dear Ann, Part Seven :

My memory becomes discontinuous after we exited the 7/11 parking lot and drove east on Roscoe Boulevard. We would have passed Northridge Hospital once again, as it is located almost directly across the street from the 7/11, but I don't have that picture in my brain. The blank spot is brief, though, because I know that we were soon back at the Concord Square Apartments on Sherman Way and Lindley Avenue, which is less than a five minute drive from the 7/11.

Here is the next thing I remember. I am standing with you, Ann, at the front entryway to the apartment complex, where the security gate is located as well as the intercom, which lists the names and unit numbers of the tenants. Lys might be standing with us too, but it is you I remember because you are talking with a man in a suit. He is clearly a person of authority but not a policeman. You must have inquired about the nature of the situation, which by now we knew was very serious, but more importantly for you personally, you must have asked him what could be done with me, as no one had been home at my house and I was in no condition to be left alone.

Ann, I will never, ever forget the man's words : "There are still some really bad people out there tonight. We need to keep him in a safe place". That's close to verbatim. He was almost certainly with the FBI, or another federal agency. There was some discussion between the two of you. . He may have asked you again if there was any place you could take me. There wasn't, and I remember that the apartment manager was standing with us after that. She was the same young woman who had "called security" on me earlier that evening, after which the thug showed up at the door of Terry's apartment. Now she was being nice and cooperative with the FBI man. He had a sudden idea.

"Do you have an empty unit we could put him in for the night"?

"Yes", she replied, "I've got one right here". She motioned to an apartment that was only a few feet away, then unlocked the door with her master key. We walked inside, and I remember feeling some unease at this point. I can picture the grey carpeting and the vertical plastic slats that were used in place of drapery to cover the windows and sliding glass door. Before she found the light switch, the only illumination came from the lights outside by the pool, shining in through the slats and emphasizing the vacancy of the unit, which was devoid of furniture. I can picture walking in to this empty apartment and feeling a mixture of fear and relief.

The FBI man spoke : "Would it be okay if we had you stay in here tonight"?

I probably mumbled something in the affirmative, and then he explained again that it wasn't "safe out there" for me, and that spending the night in this unit would be my best option. My memory of this man, and of this segment in which I was placed in the empty apartment, is visceral to this day. I can remember the apartment manager getting together some blankets and pillows for me so I could sleep on the floor, and then I remember everyone leaving and being in there alone, with just the light from the poolside coming in through the window slats as I curled up under the blankets and tried to go to sleep.

By now, the time would have been at least midnight and possibly later.

I was wiped out, yet still on edge mentally.

When my amnesia broke, beginning in 1993, and when my memories really began coming back with great clarity and visceral power in the years 1996 through 1999, I originally had some very strange recollections of things I believed had taken place during the night I spent in the empty apartment.

I believed that I had gotten up at some point during the night and left the apartment, that I had walked out into the courtyard, and that I had looked across the pool and had seen a unit with it's door open, and that I had walked over to that unit, as if I was sleepwalking.

This is a side issue, Ann, because - though it was initially a vivid memory - it only ever existed in "snapshots", brief pictures of what I believed I had seen when I entered that open door apartment.

I will tell you without fear of embarrassment that, in 1999, when the memory first came back, I believed I saw an unusual looking little man in there. Again, the memory was only a snapshot. 

Today, in 2019, I cannot say if I exited the empty apartment that night or if I slept inside it the entire time until morning. But there is no doubt that an unusual "little man" would later be involved in an event that took place later during the twelve day duration.

He looked like a person from another planet, not a typical Grey Alien but someone who was likely not human. This person was present later on, without any shadow of a doubt, at a property located at Valerio Street and Wilbur Avenue in Reseda, a location I refer to as the Wilbur Wash due to it's proximity to an offshoot of the L.A. River. An event took place there approximately one week after this night of September 1st that I have been describing to you in this letter. As weird as the first night was, the Wilbur Wash event almost defies belief, and I myself would probably not believe it had I not been there to witness it first hand.

Ann, I am well aware of how crazy it sounds, to tell you that I possibly saw this "man" in the Concord Square apartments during the night I spent in the empty unit, and perhaps I did not see him there.

Maybe it was a dream, or a telepathic vision. I mention it, as always, for the sake of completeness.

(to be continued tomorrow)