I looked through the album while David spoke and noticed a number of photos of his Dad with Navy Officers. Before I could ask where they were taken, I recognized the Philadelphia Naval Yard Hospital in a couple of the pictures. By 1987, I visited that area a half dozen times.

“Ah, I opened the box and ___. There was a note on top of a photo album and journal. He didn‘t want anyone to know about all this. I think he would want you to know. I don’t know. He was protecting me. I haven’t told anyone, _____. If mom knew, she never said.” David’s mom passed away from cancer when he was just fifteen.

At that point he asked me to shut off the recorder and I complied. It was making him really nervous. David removed a small and very old leather bound journal from a fireproof lock box. While removing the cloth from around it, he told me to keep everything quiet. The idea was to point me in the right direction, but keep his father’s information of the radar screen. I was fine with that and honored that agreement for as long as requested. He began to fill in the blanks.

His dad was a gifted engineer and had a knack for designing complicated machines and electronic devices.

It was during my first visit to the historic Montauk Lighthouse that I noticed the huge radar dish which immediately identifies the Montauk Base. I must have been about eight years old and remember asking my parents about the monstrous structure. My father said it was part of a system to detect incoming enemy aircraft or missiles. As a retired Air Force Officer, he would know about that. However, I’m certain that he had no idea what future (or past) events would give that base such an infamous reputation.

I had plenty of friends that worked in the Long Island technical community. During the days of the Cold War, those jobs were everywhere if you qualified. Part of qualifying sometimes meant having a parent or other relative already on the inside. David was a good example. His father worked for the government or government contractors since the days of the Second World War. That helped David put his engineering degree to good use for the same company where his dad worked until his death a few years back.

I thought I had a good working knowledge of the Philadelphia Experiment up until 1987. After years of researching it and speaking with second and third hand witnesses, I was about to get a bit closer. David asked me to come and give a lunchtime talk about UFOs for his coworkers. His company sponsored these midday events once a month for employees who cared to attend. It was all about lessening stress in a very stressful work environment.

After discussing UFO reports and sightings on Long Island for about fifty minutes, I asked if anyone had comments or questions. There were plenty. Most came from people that had seen UFOs themselves. For some reason, there weren’t many skeptics in the room. One guy asked me about the Philadelphia Experiment. In turn, I asked if everyone in the room was interested enough in the subject for me to spend another twenty or thirty minutes talking about it? They were.

I gave the group a kind of thumbnail sketch about the infamous World War II Navy project, then proceeded to explain how a simple program to degauss battleships turned into a massive project to make ships invisible. I explained how there was credible evidence to believe that scientists and engineers working out of Princeton under Einstein had actually made a ship invisible and opened a sort of space time portal during a series of experiments.

The experiments took place in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard and along the east coast of the United States. The trial and error process saw a test crew placed aboard a battleship escort vessel for sea trials of the new technology. A technology which didn’t always work correctly costing lives and creating more questions than answers.

David called later that night to thank me for speaking at the lunchtime event. He said everyone that came to the event talked about it for the rest of the day and those that didn‘t attend, wish they had. I thanked him and admitted that I came away with as much information as I had imparted in terms of UFO sightings. After some friendly chatter, he invited me to his house on Saturday and said he had wanted to discuss something about my investigations. He asked if I would come alone and I agreed.

Saturday arrived and found me standing at David’s door around two in the afternoon. He opened the door and invited me in. My friend looked spent. I sat down in his living room and waited while he ran down to the basement to get something. He reappeared moments later with a large lockbox, opened it and handed me an old photo album. I asked him if I could run my cassette player. Knowing I was terrible at taking notes, he agreed. I would have to turn it off when he told me. Then he dropped the bomb.

“I wanted to tell you about my father, ah, after he passed away. It was, ah, ___. I didn‘t know anything about it before that.” David stated. “I was worried about getting both of us in trouble, you know? Now I want someone else to know, ah, somebody. I guess it‘s your lucky day.” I began looking at the album. “My dad was at Princeton in 1940,” he continued. “When you, ah, presented that information about the Philadelphia Experiment, I know he was involved with, ah, something at that time.” He had my full attention.

“_____ (the family lawyer) gave me this lockbox. He didn’t want any responsibility. He didn’t have the key. It was at home hanging on a hook in the closet, you know? _____ instructed me to open the box at home.”

I looked through the album while David spoke and noticed a number of photos of his Dad with Navy Officers. Before I could ask where they were taken, I recognized the Philadelphia Naval Yard Hospital in a couple of the pictures. By 1987, I visited that area a half dozen times.

“Ah, I opened the box and ___. There was a note on top of a photo album and journal. He didn‘t want anyone to know about all this. I think he would want you to know. I don’t know. He was protecting me. I haven’t told anyone, _____. If mom knew, she never said.” David’s mom passed away from cancer when he was just fifteen.

At that point he asked me to shut off the recorder and I complied. It was making him really nervous. David removed a small and very old leather bound journal from a fireproof lock box. While removing the cloth from around it, he told me to keep everything quiet. The idea was to point me in the right direction, but keep his father’s information of the radar screen. I was fine with that and honored that agreement for as long as requested. He began to fill in the blanks.

His dad was a gifted engineer and had a knack for designing complicated machines and electronic devices.

I thought I had a good working knowledge of the Philadelphia Experiment up until 1987. After years of researching it and speaking with second and third hand witnesses, I was about to get a bit closer. David asked me to come and give a lunchtime talk about UFOs for his coworkers. His company sponsored these midday events once a month for employees who cared to attend. It was all about lessening stress in a very stressful work environment.

After discussing UFO reports and sightings on Long Island for about fifty minutes, I asked if anyone had comments or questions. There were plenty. Most came from people that had seen UFOs themselves. For some reason, there weren’t many skeptics in the room. One guy asked me about the Philadelphia Experiment. In turn, I asked if everyone in the room was interested enough in the subject for me to spend another twenty or thirty minutes talking about it? They were.

I gave the group a kind of thumbnail sketch about the infamous World War II Navy project, then proceeded to explain how a simple program to degauss battleships turned into a massive project to make ships invisible. I explained how there was credible evidence to believe that scientists and engineers working out of Princeton under Einstein had actually made a ship invisible and opened a sort of space time portal during a series of experiments.

The experiments took place in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard and along the east coast of the United States. The trial and error process saw a test crew placed aboard a battleship escort vessel for sea trials of the new technology. A technology which didn’t always work correctly costing lives and creating more questions than answers.

David called later that night to thank me for speaking at the lunchtime event. He said everyone that came to the event talked about it for the rest of the day and those that didn‘t attend, wish they had. I thanked him and admitted that I came away with as much information as I had imparted in terms of UFO sightings. After some friendly chatter, he invited me to his house on Saturday and said he had wanted to discuss something about my investigations. He asked if I would come alone and I agreed.

Saturday arrived and found me standing at David’s door around two in the afternoon. He opened the door and invited me in. My friend looked spent. I sat down in his living room and waited while he ran down to the basement to get something. He reappeared moments later with a large lockbox, opened it and handed me an old photo album. I asked him if I could run my cassette player. Knowing I was terrible at taking notes, he agreed. I would have to turn it off when he told me. Then he dropped the bomb.

“I wanted to tell you about my father, ah, after he passed away. It was, ah, ___. I didn‘t know anything about it before that.” David stated. “I was worried about getting both of us in trouble, you know? Now I want someone else to know, ah, somebody. I guess it‘s your lucky day.” I began looking at the album. “My dad was at Princeton in 1940,” he continued. “When you, ah, presented that information about the Philadelphia Experiment, I know he was involved with, ah, something at that time.” He had my full attention.

“_____ (the family lawyer) gave me this lockbox. He didn’t want any responsibility. He didn’t have the key. It was at home hanging on a hook in the closet, you know? _____ instructed me to open the box at home.”

I looked through the album while David spoke and noticed a number of photos of his Dad with Navy Officers. Before I could ask where they were taken, I recognized the Philadelphia Naval Yard Hospital in a couple of the pictures. By 1987, I visited that area a half dozen times.

“Ah, I opened the box and ___. There was a note on top of a photo album and journal. He didn‘t want anyone to know about all this. I think he would want you to know. I don’t know. He was protecting me. I haven’t told anyone, _____. If mom knew, she never said.” David’s mom passed away from cancer when he was just fifteen.

At that point he asked me to shut off the recorder and I complied. It was making him really nervous. David removed a small and very old leather bound journal from a fireproof lock box. While removing the cloth from around it, he told me to keep everything quiet. The idea was to point me in the right direction, but keep his father’s information of the radar screen. I was fine with that and honored that agreement for as long as requested. He began to fill in the blanks.

His dad was a gifted engineer and had a knack for designing complicated machines and electronic devices.

The experiments took place in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard and along the east coast of the United States. The trial and error process saw a test crew placed aboard a battleship escort vessel for sea trials of the new technology. A technology which didn’t always work correctly costing lives and creating more questions than answers.

David called later that night to thank me for speaking at the lunchtime event. He said everyone that came to the event talked about it for the rest of the day and those that didn‘t attend, wish they had. I thanked him and admitted that I came away with as much information as I had imparted in terms of UFO sightings. After some friendly chatter, he invited me to his house on Saturday and said he had wanted to discuss something about my investigations. He asked if I would come alone and I agreed.

Saturday arrived and found me standing at David’s door around two in the afternoon. He opened the door and invited me in. My friend looked spent. I sat down in his living room and waited while he ran down to the basement to get something. He reappeared moments later with a large lockbox, opened it and handed me an old photo album. I asked him if I could run my cassette player. Knowing I was terrible at taking notes, he agreed. I would have to turn it off when he told me. Then he dropped the bomb.

“I wanted to tell you about my father, ah, after he passed away. It was, ah, ___. I didn‘t know anything about it before that.” David stated. “I was worried about getting both of us in trouble, you know? Now I want someone else to know, ah, somebody. I guess it‘s your lucky day.” I began looking at the album. “My dad was at Princeton in 1940,” he continued. “When you, ah, presented that information about the Philadelphia Experiment, I know he was involved with, ah, something at that time.” He had my full attention.

“_____ (the family lawyer) gave me this lockbox. He didn’t want any responsibility. He didn’t have the key. It was at home hanging on a hook in the closet, you know? _____ instructed me to open the box at home.”

I looked through the album while David spoke and noticed a number of photos of his Dad with Navy Officers. Before I could ask where they were taken, I recognized the Philadelphia Naval Yard Hospital in a couple of the pictures. By 1987, I visited that area a half dozen times.

“Ah, I opened the box and ___. There was a note on top of a photo album and journal. He didn‘t want anyone to know about all this. I think he would want you to know. I don’t know. He was protecting me. I haven’t told anyone, _____. If mom knew, she never said.” David’s mom passed away from cancer when he was just fifteen.

At that point he asked me to shut off the recorder and I complied. It was making him really nervous. David removed a small and very old leather bound journal from a fireproof lock box. While removing the cloth from around it, he told me to keep everything quiet. The idea was to point me in the right direction, but keep his father’s information of the radar screen. I was fine with that and honored that agreement for as long as requested. He began to fill in the blanks.

His dad was a gifted engineer and had a knack for designing complicated machines and electronic devices.

“I wanted to tell you about my father, ah, after he passed away. It was, ah, ___. I didn‘t know anything about it before that.” David stated. “I was worried about getting both of us in trouble, you know? Now I want someone else to know, ah, somebody. I guess it‘s your lucky day.” I began looking at the album. “My dad was at Princeton in 1940,” he continued. “When you, ah, presented that information about the Philadelphia Experiment, I know he was involved with, ah, something at that time.” He had my full attention.

“_____ (the family lawyer) gave me this lockbox. He didn’t want any responsibility. He didn’t have the key. It was at home hanging on a hook in the closet, you know? _____ instructed me to open the box at home.”

I looked through the album while David spoke and noticed a number of photos of his Dad with Navy Officers. Before I could ask where they were taken, I recognized the Philadelphia Naval Yard Hospital in a couple of the pictures. By 1987, I visited that area a half dozen times.

“Ah, I opened the box and ___. There was a note on top of a photo album and journal. He didn‘t want anyone to know about all this. I think he would want you to know. I don’t know. He was protecting me. I haven’t told anyone, _____. If mom knew, she never said.” David’s mom passed away from cancer when he was just fifteen.

At that point he asked me to shut off the recorder and I complied. It was making him really nervous. David removed a small and very old leather bound journal from a fireproof lock box. While removing the cloth from around it, he told me to keep everything quiet. The idea was to point me in the right direction, but keep his father’s information of the radar screen. I was fine with that and honored that agreement for as long as requested. He began to fill in the blanks.

His dad was a gifted engineer and had a knack for designing complicated machines and electronic devices.

I looked through the album while David spoke and noticed a number of photos of his Dad with Navy Officers. Before I could ask where they were taken, I recognized the Philadelphia Naval Yard Hospital in a couple of the pictures. By 1987, I visited that area a half dozen times.

“Ah, I opened the box and ___. There was a note on top of a photo album and journal. He didn‘t want anyone to know about all this. I think he would want you to know. I don’t know. He was protecting me. I haven’t told anyone, _____. If mom knew, she never said.” David’s mom passed away from cancer when he was just fifteen.

At that point he asked me to shut off the recorder and I complied. It was making him really nervous. David removed a small and very old leather bound journal from a fireproof lock box. While removing the cloth from around it, he told me to keep everything quiet. The idea was to point me in the right direction, but keep his father’s information of the radar screen. I was fine with that and honored that agreement for as long as requested. He began to fill in the blanks.

His dad was a gifted engineer and had a knack for designing complicated machines and electronic devices. Radio and electronics were a hobby for him, but he was better at those things than most professionals. I assume both talents came in handy for the Philadelphia Experiment.

David asked me to listen while he read from the journal. It was a diary that his father kept during the early 1940s. He carefully chose sections that could be read, ignored others and explained that there were things he couldn’t share with me. I understood and was grateful for what he was willing to reveal.

He read about ten hand-written pages. Although no names or specifics were mentioned, the diary did note that he was at Princeton working on a project special project during World War II. He was one of several young prodigies personally recommended by Albert Einstein and engaged by the Navy. They were developing a system of magnetic detection devices to protect our harbors against infiltration by ships and submarines. These would be part of a multi-faceted system which would include radar, hydrophones, magnetic detection devices and more. That was what they told him.

Everything changed when he arrived at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard. The group from Princeton was told to develop a system which would demagnetize ships and make them radar invisible. David skipped over a lot. When he resumed reading, his father was in the middle of an experiment with one of the moored ships. There were no crew members on board, just several carefully chosen junior officers that acted as caretakers.

During the process of testing equipment, there was an accident. It looked as though one of the junior officers was electrocuted. He accidentally touched an open circuit while standing in the middle of an area filled with electronics and powerful magnetic fields. The power was shut down and he fell to the floor. When the technicians got to him, he had a pulse and didn’t look burned. The young Officer was sent to the Naval Shipyard Hospital.

The junior officer was back with a clean bill of health a few hours later. David’s father and another member of the team spotted him and headed over to see if he was alright. Before they could reach him, the young man entered a hatchway and vanished around a corner. The engineers didn’t think much about it at the time because it was easy to lose sight of people inside a ship.

Several hours later, everyone was ready to call it day. The young officer was no where to be found. Despite a careful search through that ship and others in the area, he could not be located. The next day there was a more comprehensive search which turned up nothing. David’s father and his associate were extensively questioned as were others that saw him enter the hatchway, but no blame was pointed in their direction. Those in charge already seemed to know what happened to him.

The Navy was satisfied that the junior officer didn’t voluntarily vanish, was not a spy and probably fell overboard as a result of a belated reaction to the electrocution. That was the official position. It was more likely that the young man melted into the ship’s superstructure or floated off into some ethereal realm. That situation was repeated on a larger scale during other attempts to test Philadelphia Experiment technologies.

David stopped reading and stared blankly at me. I didn’t really know what to say. Sensing I was at a loss for words, he told me that this was the first and last time he would be able to share this information with me. I passed the photo album back to him; he placed the journal on top of it and carefully locked everything up in the box. I left with a million more questions than answers.

Sadly, David passed away a few years ago. His death was the tragic result of an auto accident and was completely unexpected. With no will or preparations in place, I asked his surviving relatives about any photo albums or a diary belonging to his father they might have found. They seemed genuinely surprised and said that no such items were found among David‘s possessions. I thought it wise not to pursue the matter. His death ended my agreement to keep the information he provided to myself.

A year after David’s stunning revelation I met several people with similar stories. They are Al Bielek, Preston Nichols and Duncan Cameron. All three claimed involvement with projects once headquartered at the Montauk Air Force Station. These projects used technologies developed from the Philadelphia Experiment and involved invisibility, time travel, mind control, remote viewing and psychic war fare. After a lot of phone work, Bielek, Nichols and Cameron agreed to meet a small of group of people assembled to evaluate their claims and film their testimony.

Their revelations about the Montauk Air Force Station were stunning and their attention to detail was amazing. I listened to them for almost twelve hours and ended