The Silent Reveille

Based upon a true story that happened six years before Roswell

Cape Girardeau is a town along the Mississippi River where in the winter of 1838–39, the Cherokee People crossed the river in a forced march known as the Trail of Tears. It is of French Canadian heritage and was founded in 1793 by Jean Baptiste de Girardot. From it’s trading post beginnings Cape Girardeau matured as a river town not far from the Missouri boot-heal where cotton was king. It was also about one hundred miles south of St. Louis and two hundred miles south of Hannibal Missouri. It was an unhurried place comprised of people who exhibited the traditional rural values of agricultural towns along the Mississippi. Cape, as it is known, had a courthouse, schools, shops and churches. It was a peaceful town where the nights were filled with the calls of whip-or-wills and the air sparkling with lightening bugs.

One night in the spring of 1941 everything changed. The Reverend William Huffman of the Red Star Baptist Church was called by the sheriff to minister to those who were in some sort of plane crash ten to twelve miles south of Cape near the town of Chaffee. A car soon arrived to transport him to the scene. They drove from Cape along Bloomfield Road until they spotted a fire burning about one quarter mile away in an open field. They could see people in the distance as they walked across the field to the crash site. When they approached the scene they were astonished. It was not a plane but instead a silver round saucer like craft that had crashed and started the fire. The side of the saucer was ripped open and two alien bodies lay dead and another lay dying. Reverend Huffman looked inside the saucer and saw wires and components of alien design. He saw bizarre knobs and dials and strange hieroglyphic like writing. Two men held up a deceased alien, who was about four feet tall, and another took a picture. About that time the Army Air Corps arrived from Sikeston Field and cordoned off the location and then swore everybody to secrecy and confiscated any cameras. One camera that was placed in a man’s shirt pocket was missed. As he returned to his home at 1530 Main Street Reverend Huffman was still in a state of excitement and mild shock and could not keep what he had seen from his wife Floy and his sons. Others too who were present spawned the story to their families.

After a time things quieted and the Cape crash inhabited fewer and fewer minds as the years passed. The story became part of the regional folklore. Sam Schade, the grandson of Clarance R. Schade, the Cape Girardeau County sheriff who had witnessed the crash in 1941, had been searching for the crash site for the last twenty years. Sam was getting older and had walked the fields looking for evidence of the crash after learning about it from family lore. Also, Charlotte Mann, the daughter of Reverend Huffman was given the information by her grandmother upon her deathbed. Charlotte took an interest and interviewed the living relations of the police, fire, coroners, military commanders and photographers who had witnessed the crash. She remembered seeing a photograph of the two men holding the dead alien. The photo had been given to Reverend Huffman and was told that it was one of only two. She remembered the large eyes and long arms of the alien. It was believed that Garland D. Fronabarger had given Reverend Huffman the photo. The Reverend had loaned the photo to a photographer friend but it was never returned.

Sam got wind that Charlotte had been researching the crash and he contacted her by phone. Charlotte had moved to Arizona. Sam’s interest had peaked after speaking with Charlotte and he redoubled his efforts to find the site. They had narrowed the crash site down to a five mile stretch of road just north of Chaffee. Sam had walked the open fields along that section of road in the past. Sam imagined that the field where the crash occurred had not laid fallow, but had been plowed and planted many times. Sam decided to search only freshly plowed fields after a hard rain. That was a technique used by arrow head hunters. Knowing that his search would be mostly in the spring and fall after the fields had been plowed, he decided to visit the farmers who owned the open fields along that five mile stretch of road. The farmers were very tight lipped about the subject. They were no help; however, Sam did get permission to walk their fields.

Sam was in his fifties now, wore glasses, and walked with a slight limp. He used a walking stick that he had carried for many years. He did not have the strength that he had twenty years ago and often took rests. His progress was slow but his spirit was high. Walking the fields after a rain was more difficult as well. He would find an occasional spear point and bird point that he left in the ground. He knew that there were likely Indian shallow graves along these fields and did not want to disturb them. Sam had heard some of the old men speak of taking Indian items home and experiencing health issues. The old men spoke of those who became ill. Sam was respectful and chose instead to focus on some object that would indicate the location of the crash site. Sam walked field after field with no success. Then he had a unique thought, ask Mother Nature to guide him. So he searched where crow’s were eating in a field, and where the deer ran, but still nothing. There were buzzards circling still he found nothing. One Saturday morning while walking across a field, a hawk buzzed him and perched on a tall tree about fifteen yards into the woods. Sam decided to follow it. The terrain was rough and damp with tiff stones jutting out of the soil. As he approached the hawk tree, he paused for a moment to catch his breath. He looked around but saw nothing. As he was walking out of the woods, he took a different path to avoid the tiff. While walking he slipped and fell. While lying in the damp woods he looked back and the hawk had flown. Sam tried to get up but his foot slipped again. He thought it must be a slick stone. So he crawled a couple of yards forward and stood up. He looked back to see where he had slipped and there it was. A metalic item, silver in color but mostly covered with mud and leaves. Sam used his walking stick to pry it up and as he raised it he saw that it was round. His heart began to pound as he realized that he might have found an item thrown from the wreckage. As he brushed the dirt and dampness off, he saw markings across the top resembling Egyptian hieroglyphics. As his excitement raced Sam sat down. His was a surreal experience. Not knowing whether to believe his own eyes or not, he continued to brush the disk. It was about eighteen inches in diameter and perhaps a quarter of an inch thick, yet it was lighter than he expected. The years of laying in the woods had obscured the writing below the heading. Sam could not make it out. As he sat there thinking, his heart still beating heavily, he couldn’t concentrate. He decided to take the disk home and soak it in an old zinc wash tub that he used to clean his tools. He placed it in the basement wash tub half filled with soapy water, and then walked up stairs. He changed clothes and sat in his favorite chair. He decided to clean the disk the following morning and then would decide what to do with it. His sleep was uneasy until about 5 AM when he fell into a deep sleep.

Sam heard the road traffic begin to pick up and slowly awakened. He was accustomed to drinking his coffee, two cups, in the morning and was in no hurry to get downstairs to view the disk. He liked the slow southern Missouri lifestyle and felt no need to change it now; after all, he had been searching for the crash site for twenty years. Sam liked listening to KZIM 960 AM River Radio for the agricultural news and then the local items for sale or trade. He forgot it was Sunday and the radio was ablaze with squeaky choirs and saintly sermons. There were more Baptist Churches than service stations in Cape. He thought that at least one saint might have been from Cape but he had never seen one. There was always hope. Sam downed two cups of coffee, fed the cats, and walked downstairs to the basement to see what he had. He grabbed the scrub brush and began cleaning the disc. The dirt and grime removed easily and the disc, despite its exposure to the weather, had not oxidized. He scrubbed both sides, toweled it dry, and walked over to the basement window to see what was exposed. In the light, moving from right to left, were characters in the form of zero’s and vertical lines. The writings continued to circle around the disk until reaching the center of the disc. He turned the disc over and on it there appeared to be a kind of map although it looked like nothing he had ever seen before. Sam walked outside and sat at an old wooden picnic table below a black walnut tree. He examined it very closely and had a deep quiet feeling inside that he had found something from the crash.

Sam immediately thought of the photo that the Reverend William Huffman had leant to a photographer friend and then never was seen again. Sam wasn’t going to let that happen to the disc. Sam called his lifelong friend LeRoy Ray who was an adjunct professor of computer science at Southeast Missouri State University located in Cape. “Ray residence”, was the answer, “Roy, I found a fancy Italian sports car wheel cover over on Bloomfield Road, do you have time to stop by”? “Sure”, said Roy, “I’ll be right over”. Roy and Sam were boyhood friends who would walk the bumpy roads around Cape and pick up hubcaps when they were young. They would then go to the Saturday flea market and sell them. After a time Roy decided to collect them and hang them in his father’s barn. Over the years Roy had collected hundreds, some dating back to the 1940’s. When the wind picked up you could hear the damn things clanging a mile away.

Roy pulled his Ford pickup into Sam’s rock driveway. Sam liked his rock driveway because he could hear the rocks talking to him as Roy approached. “Hey oldtimer”, Sam said, “cmon’ over here and see what I got.” Roy had brought two cans of cold Bush beer and handed one to Sam. “Thanks Roy”, Sam said. “You’re a gentleman and a scholar and your good looks are only surpassed by mine”. They opened their beers, took a drink, and got down to business. Roy what kind of Italian car do you think this if from. Roy looked over the disc and immediately went slackjawed. “Sam,” he said, “you found it, you found the crash site”. They both raised their can’s as if to toast and took a good drink. “Begezzus”, said Roy as he looked closely at the disc. “What the hell”. Roy looked up, let out a whoop and a holler and a great laugh. As if that wasn’t enough they both got up, held their beers in the air and did a little jig dance. “Oh man”, said Roy, “Cape will never be the same”.

Roy said that the raised lettering on the disk showing zeros and vertical lines looked like ASCII code. He informed that if it was, then every eight characters would indicate a letter or a number. Sam was astonished at that revelation and thought that perhaps it was not alien. Roy suggested that Sam and he, wrap it up in paper and take it over to the college to make photo copies. Roy said that it being Sunday there would be fewer people there. They agreed, took the photo copies at the college unnoticed, and then returned to Sam’s place. Roy said that he would be discreet, would not share the information with his wife or anyone else, and try to translate the information on the photo copies. Roy asked Sam to give him a few days and then he would contact him. Sam agreed.

Sam was alive with excitement and thought about what he would do if Roy returned with important information. He knew that if the information was disclosed he would have to remain anonymous or be forever pursued by the government, and who knows who else, so, he began thinking of how to disclose the truth. He could not have the disc, or any information regarding it in his home or car. He thought for a moment and then had a brainy idea. He would hang the disc with Roy’s hubcap collection, that way it would be hidden in plain sight in an old barn on Roy’s home place. No one would think to look there. If needed, the disc would be retrievable.

Roy was correct, the disc was written in ASCII code. As he worked his way around the disc recording the letters, a message began to emerge. Priority Communication: Galactic Alliance: Initiate Immediately: Earth Human evolution assessed: Human retardation: Ascension problematic: Remediate: Information requisite: human evolution: secret societies: cabal: acquire apply: expectation: interlink Galactic Alliance: Roy was dumbstruck! Was this some kind of college prank from years past? He continued to translate. Electromagnetic storm encroachment: solar system: planetary heating: sun white heat: vivid flash discharge probable: human DNA transformation: spiritually awakened ascend: interlink Alliance: Preceding negative Earth effects: earthquake: super volcano eruption: meteorites: monolithic drought: fire storms: famine: initiate precautions::: Alliance: Unified Greys: Pleiades System

Roy experienced a profound uneasiness. Had alien life in this solar system been hidden from peoples? Had human evolution been purposefully held back? Had secret societies’ hidden truths for private purpose? What was the true nature of ascension? Was this a star map on the reverse side of the disc? How much had the electromagnetic storm encroached on our solar system? He had read reports describing the sun’s color changing from yellow to white. The Earth was clearly heating up, meteorite strikes were recorded along with near misses, droughts and firestorms were occurring. He had also heard reports that the super volcano in Yellowstone National Park was doming upward. The roads around old faithful were melting too. Scientists had indicated, from drilling stone cores and ice cores that the Yellowstone super volcano erupted approximately every 640 thousand years, and we were currently beyond that 640 thousand year marker. Roy saw enough truth in the writings on the disc to be believable. What could two good ole’ boys from southern Missouri do? That was the unsounded question!

Roy knew that he and Sam would have to fortify themselves to seek answers to these questions, so he slipped a half pint of Old Crow Whiskey into his pocket and slowly drove to Sam’s place. Roy felt that his virginity had been violated and now he was going to do the same to Sam. This was heavy lifting. Roy drove up Sam’s driveway, parked his truck, sat down on the picnic table under the filtered sunlight of the walnut tree, opened his whiskey bottle, took a swig, and let out a loud yelp. Sam came to the door sleepy-eyed in his pj’s, walked out barefoot and sat down at the table. Before saying a word, Roy handed Sam the whiskey, he took a swig, relished the taste and said, “Roy ol’ buddy, what in the flee flicken’ hell are you doing here so early”? Roy took another swig and said, “Sam we need to talk”! Sam looked Roy square in the eye and knew it was important. “Let me put on a pot of coffee”, he said, “we can mix that whiskey in the coffee and wake up proper like”.

It wasn’t long before the whiskey, coffee, and words began to mix. Sam too was KO’d by the revelations. “God”, he said, “this is way bigger than I thought it would be”. For a while he felt as if his mind was cramped and his head would explode. Then the whiskey began to settle in. Sam remembered his discussion with Charlotte Mann. She had described a tense time when the fed’s were in Cape warning all witnesses to remain quiet about the incident or face untold consequences. The military cleaned up the crash site. Local fire and police records list an incident that April night but provide no information. It was as if the crash never happened, although, it drifted quietly into the folklore of Cape Girardeau.

Neither Sam nor Roy wanted themselves personally associated with the release of this new information. They feared retaliation from the federal government. They had heard rumors that John Kennedy had been killed just before he planned to make public the existence of extra-terrestrials. They both knew that this was a dead serious matter. Sam realized that because of his continued interest in searching for crash debris that he would be questioned. Roy, on the other hand, had no association with the find, but did realize that they had recent phone conversations that may be exposed. They decided to think about it a day or two before making a decision. They decided to meet at the No Name Cafe in Chaffee for breakfast at 9:00 A.M. on Wednesday morning.

The No Name Cafe was a clean little place that was locally owned and featured home cooking, generous servings, and the cooks and waitresses all had white hair. It seemed that overalls and tee shirts were most common dress among the customers. The back of the necks of the farmers were burnt dark red and deeply wrinkled. Their hands and fingers were toughened. These were salt of the earth farmers. Roy and Sam wore jeans, a tee shirt, a ball cap and boots. They blended right in. After the waitress had taken their order and brought them coffee their conversation became both serious and quiet. It was decision time.

As they discussed the issue it became clear that they both felt a responsibility to release the message even though they did not understand it all. They thought that after its release, those more knowledgeable would clarify its meanings. It was decided to take two clear digital pictures of the disc, one for each side, and to print them on color photo paper. Then they would type the message and include the photos and message inside an envelope, taking precautions not to leave any identifying evidence, and mail it with no return address to the Cape Girardeau regional newspaper, the Southeast Missourian. It was hoped that the Southeast Missourian would print the photos and article and thus begin the dispersion of the message. They expected reporters from the St. Louis Post Dispatch and the Kansas City Star to pick up the story as well. Government investigators as well as UFO investigators would likely visit Cape soon after publication. Interested people who took an interest in the subject would likely visit soon as well. Both Sam and Roy were cagey enough to handle the investigative questions. They coordinated their stories, hung the disk in a poorly lit location among Roy’s hubcap collection, and mailed the packet to the Southeast Missourian. They then drank a cold six pack of Busch beer, and relaxed well into night at Roy’s place quietly listening to the whip-or-wills and watching the lightning bugs. The silent reveille had begun.

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Today, in 2018, it is known that an electromagnetic storm is passing through our solar system. It is also known that the planets are heating up and the faces and colors of the planets are changing. The Sun has changed in color from yellow to white. The Earth is experiencing increasingly violent storms causing extensive damage including floods, and firestorms are raging across the western United States due to extreme drought, volcano’s are erupting violently, severe famine is happening in Africa, we are experiencing meteorite strikes, and the Yellowstone Super Volcano is doming and under increasing pressure. If it erupts, half the United States would be covered in ash, in some places measured in feet.

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