My Experience of 4 January 1978

Liberal Translation of Write-up by Guido Moosbrugger
in Zeugenbuch (Schmidrüti, Switzerland: 2001), pp. 196-97
by J. W. Deardorff, May 2011

As customary, at the beginning of the year I was visiting the Semjase-Silver-Star-Center at Hinterschmidrüti for several days. So then on the evening of 4 January 1978 I was sitting in the warm living room, while outside a snowstorm raged and an icy cold wind swept around the house. Not even in a dream would anyone in this house have come up with the idea of giving up this refuge without compelling reason. Yet those of us in the FIGU have never failed to experience surprises, and so the unforeseen occurred also on this evening. Quite unexpectedly, around 21:30 hours, the "Pleiadian telephone" rang for Billy from Quetzal -- a telepathic message for a planned contact.

Upon concluding the "call," Billy gave Jacobus and me the instruction: "Get everything ready for a contact!" Due to the miserable weather, this instruction hit us like a bolt out of the blue; however, we quickly got up on our feet in order to take all necessary preparations against the wintry onslaught. Next we put on our weatherproof clothing, and wondered which vehicle we should use for the trip. After brief consideration we decided in favor of the Volkswagen, which could perform best under the wintry conditions. We brought along our wireless radio, and eagely scraped away the undesired icy crust from the windshield. After a quarter hour the car was in front of the house ready to go.

Then Jacobus took the driver's seat, Billy the passenger seat next to him, and I a seat in the back. We now set out on our travel to a destination "X" that none of us knew. However, underway Billy received telepathically transmitted travel directions from a device in Quetzal's space ship, and imparted them to our car driver -- in which direction to go. Our progress was hampered, to be sure, due to the heavy snowstorm and above all the partially frozen and partially slush covered road; however our high spirits could not be dampened.

After a half hour of travel we arrived already at our goal. We stopped at a small bridge at the exit of a forest area and parked at the edge of a small pathway. From our past experience, Jacobus and I knew the rule. We found ourselves now in the immediate proximity of the contact point, and must wait for the return of the contact man. Billy climbed out of the car, hung his wireless set over his shoulder and took his leave from us. With some difficulty he plodded with his boots over a path covered with fresh snow, and headed directly towards a path lying higher up. But what was that, then? Very suddenly Billy disappeared from the scene without a trace. Well, Jacobus and I immediately thought: "Once again such a lightning-quick event, as usual!" Actually, with lightning speed Billy became transported into the pilot's compartment of Quetzal's space ship, we surmised, which somehow hovered invisibly and silently in the air above. For Billy this was nothing special, for he had often experienced such transport before.

All of a sudden Billy's voice spoke out over our car radio, and to be sure with a deeper and somewhat darker tone than normal because his radio voice came from the interior of a Pleiadian ship. This effect Jacobus had already noticed on earlier occasions. Billy's radio voice said that we should drive our VW from there back to the nearest houses -- he would then come down to us immediately. As we arrived at the houses, Billy suddenly landed with a giant step from the roadside onto the middle of the road, and climbed quickly into our car. With his tele-transmitter device, Quetzal had set Billy down onto the slope of the edge of the road near our car. We already didn't wonder at how there could be so little trace of snowflakes on his leather coat or Texas hat, although it was snowing extensively. But how could it be otherwise -- everyone knows that it doesn't snow in the inside of a space ship!

Looking back today, on the whole I question why Billy in this foul weather would have to forsake his living room seat and make such a troublesome and complicated trip, when the purpose was just to be beamed up into the space ship. Quetzal could just as well have transmitted him from his home as from the snow field -- that would have been simpler for all concerned.

Now -- aside from the fact that Jacobus and I would have had one less demonstration to write about -- the measures taken altogether hinged somehow upon Billy's deteriorating health. Because of an overload of work and concerns of all kinds, Billy's free time was always very short, and he concerned himself much too little over his own health. Therefore he constantly failed to get sufficient sleep, and especially enough exercise and fresh air. [The rest of the article discusses how the Plejarens, in failing to get Billy to take better care of himself, at least forced him to get some exercise and fresh air in going to or from a contact.]