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I didn't write the trip off as a complete loss, the weather in California was beautiful. Adamski held the UFO spotlight for some time. The Venusians paid him another visit, this time at the restaurant, and he photographed their "ship." This, whether by Venusian fate or design, increased the flow of traffic to the restaurant at the base of Mt. Palomar. It also had its side effects.
Even though the field is becoming crowded, through thick and thin, Martian and Venusian, the old Maestro, George Adamski, is still head and shoulders above the rest. The hamburger stand is boarded up and he lives in a big ranch house. He vacations in Mexico and has his own clerical staff.
By noon the next day the party, which consisted of Adamski and six others, had met and were eating lunch near the town of Desert Center on the California-Arizona border. They looked for saucers, but except for an occasional airplane, the cloudless blue sky was empty. They were about ready to give it up as a bad day when another airplane came over.
He'd been successful, as the full photograph racks on the wall showed, and he thought the next step would be to actually try to contact a saucer. For some reason, Adamski didn't know exactly why, on November 19th he'd decided to go out into the Mojave Desert. He'd called some friends and told them to meet him there.
We held out for a long time but the pressure mounted and I headed for California to find out what it was all about. As far as George Adamski was concerned I was just another thirsty sight-seer from the famous observatory on Mt. Palomar when I walked into the little restaurant at the foot of this famous mountain one day in 1953.
Only a few months ago, while on one of his numerous nationwide lecture tours, a saucer unexpectedly picked Adamski up in Kansas City and took him on a galactic cruise before depositing him at Ft. Madison, Iowa, where he had a lecture date. He "wowed" the packed auditorium with his "proof" an unused Kansas City to Ft. Madison train ticket. But at Buckingham Palace, Mr.
He swung his camera into action and started to take pictures. Unfortunately, the one picture Adamski had to show was so out of focus the scout ship looked like a desert rock. He took a few more pictures, he told his audience, and had stopped to admire the little scout ship when he suddenly noticed a man standing nearby.
Now, even those in the crowded restaurant who had been smirking when he started his story had put down their beers and were listening. This is what they had come to hear. You could actually have heard the proverbial pin drop. Adamski told what went through his mind when he first saw the man maybe a prospector.
He spoke softly and naively, almost pathetically, giving the impression that "most people think I'm crazy, but honestly, I'm really not." Adamski started his story by telling how he had spent many long and cold nights at his telescope "at the request of the government" trying to photograph one of the flying saucers everyone had been talking about.
The "rigged" lie detector test had unfortunately relegated Daniel Fry, "engineer," "missile expert," "part owner of an engineering plant," and interplanetary hitchhiker to the bush league. With Adamski and Bethurum on the stage and Fry peeking out of the wings all hell broke loose.
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