OCCURRENCE: Book I — Prologue

Dancing with Tricksters — Prologue

It was a warm afternoon in early March 2022 when I walked across the Rice University campus to The Brochstein Pavilion, affectionately known as The Glass Cube. I was at the University to attend a special event. It was billed as the Archives of the Impossible Conference. Despite its title and subject matter, it was wrapped in highly respectable academia.

Hosted by Jeffrey Kripal, the J. Newton Rayzor Chair in Philosophy and Religious Thought at Rice University in Houston, the conference included speakers and panelists with such notables as Jacques Vallée, Whitley Strieber, Edwin May, Leslie Kean, and Diana Pasulka. They discussed UFOs, remote viewing, and related phenomena. The archives are intended to house the research work of firsthand paranormal accounts, facilitating academic and public discourse on these topics. Panels and speaker presentations explored the intersection between science, philosophy, religion and the paranormal, challenging conventional perspectives on reality.

For the life of me, I don’t remember how I heard about the conference or managed to get an invitation; nonetheless, an email arrived asking me to confirm. A link to a website was included showing a list of speakers and their topics. The conference title was intriguing, but I had little interest in attending anything too far-fetched or mystical. I certainly did not want to wade into any swamp of UFO believers or tinfoil-hat conference-goers. However, one name on the list of speakers jumped out. Dr. Jacques Vallée would give the keynote presentation on the first day and dedicate his personal papers and lifelong research to the University. Now, that got my attention. Dr. Vallée had fastidiously avoided the zealot cosplay crowd that makes up much of the congregation at UFO conferences. Rightfully so, once anointed with that fragrance, it’s nearly impossible to extract.

The event was scheduled for March 3rd to March 6th, and as nothing was on my calendar that week, I confirmed my attendance. The four-hour drive from Dallas to Houston wasn’t a huge problem. Nonetheless, as the date drew near, I became less enthusiastic, considering I would need to stay overnight to hear Dr. Vallée’s late afternoon address. By Wednesday, March 2nd, I had pretty much decided not to go. Though I had just purchased Dr. Vallée’s latest book, “Trinity,” the idea that I might be able to get him to sign it now seemed less likely as my calendar was beginning to fill.

The morning of the 4th came, and I had plans. Any thought of the Houston trip was off. Then, at 8:45, my 1:30 appointment canceled. “Well, now what?” I thought. I was slowly moving around the house and piddling with unimportant minutia. Eleven o’clock rolled around, and the thought overtook me. “Just get in the car and go. If you don’t, you will likely be disappointed, and you can still make the 4:30 Vallée talk if you leave right now.” So, I threw some clothes in a bag, tossed them in the car and off I went.

Driving around the Rice University campus in Houston traffic is not advised without a fully functional Google Maps app and the peripheral multitasking skills required to avoid collisions with dashing students. Nonetheless, no students were harmed in the last mile of the journey, and I found a convenient parking spot just behind the lecture’s auditorium. Little temporary signs led me straight to the check-in table. As I approached, a very pleasant young lady immediately greeted me as if I were a VIP.

“Hi, I’m William Blume?” I said.

“Hello, William. Yes, I have your badge right here,” she said. And in that instant, she handed it to me as if she was awaiting my arrival.

More than a bit surprised, I responded, “Oh! Well — thank you very much! Ah… Would you happen to know when Dr. Vallée is going to present?”

“I think he is going up right now, actually.” She said.

With that, I pinned on my badge and walked into the lecture hall. Where I was immediately pointed to a nearby seat at the exact moment, Dr. Vallée rose to take the podium. Seriously, the precise moment.

“Hmm… Another lucky coincidence,” I thought. What amazing timing, especially considering traffic and the four-hour-plus drive, including my procrastination — what a nicely timed series of synchronicities.

The dedication of Dr. Vallée’s papers to the University undoubtedly marked a bookend to what had been a lifetime of scientific and intellectual pursuit of great mysteries and challenges. A milestone on so many levels, where others feared to tread.

It wasn’t too long after the event that I came to strongly suspect… this may have been a bookend for me as well.

Dr. Vallée, eighty years of age at the time of this writing, is internationally known and respected for his pioneering efforts in many fields and was often found at the intersection of notable moments in technology, science, academia, and the mysterious. Not the least of these was his rigorous pursuit and documentation of the UFO subject and his numerous thought-leading ideas regarding the phenomena as presented in his many books, now all classics to serious researchers and scholars alike.

For the next hour and a half, I felt quite privileged to be experiencing something rare and important. Much like the man himself, his talk was philosophical and pragmatic. Not unlike the great intellectuals and philosophers of ancient Greece, he wrapped astute but harsh satire within an allegory of Aletheia, the Greek goddess of truthfulness, sincerity, and disclosure.

He challenged the current crop of researchers, scientists, and academics to look past recent news made by the US Congress and the Defense Department’s new “UAP” investigations now underway. He cautioned that this was merely a rebranding, allowing narrative control to be once again wrestled back under the same factions, who for decades obfuscated it by any means necessary. He warned of what might yet come at the hands of the same secret keepers.

As his talk ended, I was very appreciative of being present, but then immediately began to consider whether I would make my way back to Dallas with traffic, fatigue, and hunger setting in. As I was about to head to the car, an announcement was made:

“There is a social meet and greet in the building just across the way. Please join us for hors d’oeuvres and an open bar. “What? Did this include me? Well, okay, just twist my arm then. So, I thought I’d check it out, get a small bite, and then decide on my plans afterward.

I grabbed a plate and glass of wine and began meandering, looking for a place to sit while feeling wholly out of place at the casual soirée. Walking around the bustling banquet hall, I aimed not to interrupt any of the enthusiastic dialogue among the academics, authors, and devotees who were already well-along with their sincere conversations at the various tables about the room. It appeared to me that most of these people knew each other, further fostering my sense as an interloper. So, it was going to be a quick bite, then out the door and headed north on Interstate 45.

At that moment, a mature woman noticed me wandering, struggling to balance my plate and wine and trying to nibble a bite between the fumbles. She mercifully asked if I needed a place to sit. I thanked her and sat down. Just then, two other women, her friends, joined and amicably introduced themselves.

I was willing to make polite, short, social pleasantries but wanted to avoid any conversations that might pertain to the esoteric or UFO subject matter…just as a little prayer went off in my head. Thank you, no, please.

Nonetheless, as their conversation continued, it was unavoidable that I was pulled into the table’s dialogue and asked what brought me to the conference.

I hesitated. They sensed it, which, of course, only made them lean in. Venturing a bit bravely, I said…

“Jacques Vallée.” Then, paused as if I could leave it there.

Now, even more awkwardly, “… I wanted to hear him speak and was hoping to have him autograph a book I brought along.”

My intention was to listen to them politely, eat my bits of food, drink my wine, and make my way to the door. But it was clear they were not going to have any of that.

“So, what is your connection with Jacques Vallée?”

A moment’s hesitation again. I wondered if I could pardon myself to run to the men’s room, then make my exit from there. This question — I knew it could open a door I didn’t want to enter.

I paused, glanced around the room, re-considered my escape plan, then with all the confidence of a startled squirrel… “I wrote him a letter a few years ago, and he was kind enough to write back.”

As the words left my mouth, I knew I had probably entered a place I hadn’t expected or wanted to venture.

“What was the letter about, if you don’t mind me asking?” A polite response came from the woman who had earlier introduced herself as “Kerry.”

Before I knew it, with some charming prodding that would make Hercule Poirot envious, I was talking about the content of my letter to Dr. Vallée and my initial childhood experience with what has now become chapter one of this book, entitled “The Airship.”

Astonished at myself and disappointed for revealing such a traumatic moment, so long suppressed, I had a surprisingly emotional response — as I did my best to hold back tears. This caught me — and the ladies off guard. But too late now; the cat, or whatever this thing was, was now thoroughly out of the bag.

My own personal bookend had begun without me knowing it.

Eventually, our table conversation came to a close, with me stubbornly refusing to reveal any more. We exchanged pleasantries and goodbyes.

The evening was now entirely upon me, and I decided it best to book a room just north of town and leave first thing in the morning.

Finding a last-minute hotel not too far from Rice University was a plus as I quickly settled in for a well-needed rest. Before shutting off the lights, I took a glance at the conference’s next-day programming. I saw that Leslie Kean was scheduled to give her talk that following day. Her contributions to the overall discussion regarding UFOs and Navy pilot encounters had been a significant contribution to legitimizing the subject matter to a broader, sophisticated audience.

Ms. Kean was, perhaps, the primary influencer. Which led to the creation of the DOD’s then-new program. With the enigmatic acronym of AOIMSG.

(More updates even as I write. Adding confusion regarding DOD offices, new acronyms appear, like AAWSAP and AATP and UAPTF — and so on. More head-spinning alphabet to come, I’m sure.)

Then, in July 2022, under Congressional pressure, the All Domain Anomaly Resolution Office with at least a pronounceable acronym “Arrow,” for short. AARO will purportedly analyze UAP encounters and report them to Congress.

This office, now often criticized as yet another effort to control and classify investigations, may be but a bulwark ending any hope of transparency, truth, and disclosure. Project Blue Book 2.0.

…and very much to the exact point of Vallée’s Aletheia presentation.

The next morning rolled around in my Houston hotel. Though a bit conflicted, I was packing up and making what always is a bad cup of hotel-room coffee. In just a few minutes, I’d be jumping on the highway for the drive back to Dallas. As it was the weekend, hopefully only with moderate traffic ahead.

Mission accomplished, I told myself, though sans my hopeful Vallée autograph. I thought, Oh well, definitely still worth the trip.

Sipping my coffee, I once again scanned the program schedule. Besides Leslie Kean, another guest speaker for the day caught my attention — Diana Pasulka. I had read both of their bestselling books, “UFOs: Generals, Pilots, and Government Officials Go On the Record” by Kean and “American Cosmic: UFOs, Religion, Technology” by Pasulka. Both fascinating reads, and to hear these ladies speak on the very same day just might be too good a deal to pass up. So, yet another last-minute change of plans. A quick call to the front desk extended my hotel stay, and then off to the campus once again.

As I walked to the lecture hall, I was almost letting myself enjoy a reliving of my college campus days. Soon I was standing once again just outside the building where several people had gathered when I spotted one of the ladies from the afternoon before.

“So, you decided to stay after all?” offered Kerry.

“Yes, I thought I’d come back to hear Leslie Kean and Diana Pasulka’s presentations.

You?” I asked.

“Yes. I don’t think they’re up for a while, though,” Kerry responded.

“Well then, I’m going to need more coffee,” I said.

“Me too,” added Kerry.

Standing nearby and having overheard our conversation…

“The Glass Cube on campus is a nice walk and very good coffee,” said the same young lady who had given me my badge the day before. She then pointed us in the right direction, and off we went.

As we got about halfway to the pavilion, I looked up and was very surprised to see Dr. Vallée walking just a short distance ahead. Yet another happy synchronicity, I thought.

He was in deep discussion with two people as they strolled. One of them was the same young man who had introduced Dr. Vallée’s plenary session the day before. I had my copy of Dr. Vallée’s latest book, “Trinity,” and thought this might be my only opportunity to get him to sign it. So I quickened my pace toward them.

As I approached, I more than a bit rudely interrupted their conversation and thought to temper my impertinence with a bit of charm and get my book signed in the process.

Now feeling a bit like a stalker, I said, “Excuse me, Dr. Vallée, sorry to interrupt, but I have this fantastic book here that would love to be autographed by the author?”

The considerate gentleman he is, Dr. Vallée looked at me and replied.

“That is a very important book you have there. Perhaps I can sign it for you when we get to the coffee shop.”

Little did I understand at the time what Dr. Vallée was implying with his seemingly casual comment.

It wasn’t until sixteen months later, in July of 2023, after a viewing of Christopher Nolan’s film “Oppenheimer,” that the complete impact of what Dr. Vallée had hinted — fully washed over me.

Now, thrilled at his promise to sign my book, I replied. “Thank you, Dr. Vallée, that would be wonderful. Also — I wanted to thank you for taking the time to respond to my letter with your very kind note a few years ago.”

I deliberately let that hang.

“What note was that?” he responded.

“I sent you a letter about an… experience I had as a young child,” I said. Even as the label “experience” wrenched in my brain and lodged in my throat.

“What was your experience?” He asked.

“I had written you about seeing an airship when I was about 4 or 5 years old.”

Considering my intrusion, I paused and was fully prepared to let him off the hook so he could return to his friends and conversation.

Then I said, “The airship…though I called it a blimp as a child, it was dragging a long string.”

Immediately, he said, “Ah, yes…I do remember that,” his eyes drifting away, summoning the story.

“You do?” Fully surprised. “You remember my letter?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” he said.

Then, before I could stumble through another awkward “Thank you” on my part. He asked.

“Did you have any other experiences after that?

Surprised he remembered my letter, I was now encouraged. I said, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Several. Many…. and they went on for years.”

“What else?” He asked.

There we were, standing in the middle of the sidewalk on what had turned out to be a warm, Houston, sunny day. He stood looking down at me from his very tall frame as if expecting me to recant yet another traumatic moment from my childhood. All within a momentary pause to the coffee shop.

I was not prepared to dredge up these long-suppressed memories, intentionally concealed in shadowy, cobwebbed corners of my consciousness. But realizing we were soon to arrive at our coffee destination, and I was likely to lose his attention the moment we did, I fumbled a slow, stammering effort.

Unbeknownst to me, at that very moment, I had crossed over onto a path of considerable reckoning.

“Well, I’m not one hundred percent certain of the chronology since I was very young at the time, but here is another of my Occurrences that may intrigue you,” I said to Dr. Vallée.

And with that, I began to convey yet another defining, bizarre event from my early childhood. The full recountings lie just ahead.

For Your Consideration…