MPLS Area UFO Abduction Story
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UFO Stories often seem to take a dark turn. Here’s one about a woman chased by a UFO around several dark turns. It happened the same month as the Durand, WI sighting, at the beginning of 1975, an incredible year of UFO encounters in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and northern Iowa.
Kay was a young housewife and mother of two with a home in a Minneapolis suburb. At the time of the incident, she was taking night classes at a local college. On the way to school one night in January 1975, a mysterious light pursued her vehicle in a terrifying chase. That’s when life started to turn sideways for Kay. When her doctor could not help her, he referred her to a psychiatrist, and the psychiatrist referred her to the Center for UFO Studies (CUFOS) in Evanston, Illinois. They sent Bradly Ayers to investigate.
Kay was one of Ayers’ first official cases as a UFO investigator. Ayers had recently started work as a field investigator for Dr. J. Allen Hynek’s research center. He covered western Wisconsin, Minnesota, the eastern Dakotas, and northern Iowa on behalf of the center from 1975-1979. Read the Bradley Ayers story here.
Ayers presented Kay’s case to Minneapolis reporter Carol Byrne, along with recordings from a hypnosis session in which the woman recalled a terrifying ordeal. Since those early days of UFOlogy, memories abductions obtained through hypnosis have fallen under suspicion. Several studies have demonstrated that people under hypnosis are so susceptible to suggestion that they create false memories based on their expectations and upon cues from the hypnotist. Despite that caveat, Kay’s story has a compelling ring to it, especially when considered in the wider context of similar local encounters in 1975. The following is an excerpt from the May 8, 1979 Minneapolis Star story, “They’re not human … closing in.”
A Frightening Chase
Kay’s story is the most bizarre one yet.
She says she was driving through the dark woods on her way to pick up a girlfriend for a night school class when the three white lights appeared. They swooped down out of the frigid January night sky and hung over her car. Hung there, and sped up when she did, slowed down when she did.
Tracking her.
“A UFO,” her friend shouted. “You’ve seen a UFO.”
The silent chase continued until headlights peered form around a dark corner. A car, coming down the road from the opposite direction. The three lights spun off and disappeared.
Kay could hardly wait to tell her girlfriend about her strange experience. “A UFO,” her friend shouted. “You’ve seen a UFO.”
A Lost Hour
After class two weeks later, Kay says, she stayed late talking with her girlfriend and it was 3 a.m. before she went driving home through the dark woods. She felt really tired by the time she pulled her car into her garage.
“It must be 3:30,” she thought as she plopped her books down on the kitchen table. “How am I ever going to get up at 6 a.m. to get the girls off to school?”
She glanced over at the clock to see just how late it was—and stood open-mouthed, startled. It said 4:30.
“That’s impossible,” she thought. But, too tired to puzzle it out, she went up to bed and dropped off to sleep.
An hour later she shook her husband awake. “Jim, you’ve got to draw me a bath, right away.”
Her whole body repulsed her; she felt it had been invaded.
“What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Jim, right away!”
She was shaking, rubbing herself, over and over. She got into the bathtub and started scrubbing, scrubbing. She couldn’t get clean. Her whole body repulsed her; she felt it had been invaded. She scrubbed and scrubbed.
Post Traumatic Stress
Kay went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. The girls danced around her, “I want cereal, Mommy.” “No, grape jelly, not strawberry.”
Kay sat down at the kitchen table and burst into tears. Her husband and daughters stared. Finally Jim got the girls off to school went to work himself. Kay took another bath, scrubbed and scrubbed.
Later she stood in her kitchen, washing dishes, her hands sunk in the comforting, bubbly warmth, her mind a blank. And suddenly she saw herself sitting against a wall. “I felt very heavy, dull, dense. My face muscles were just hanging. I knew I was ugly but didn’t matter. I was looking at a hole in the ceiling, staring at the red light coming out of it.”
A dream remembered? But it seemed so vivid. She was shaking again, rubbing at her body.
I was looking at a hole in the ceiling, staring at the red light coming out of it.
The next day she woke up with eyes burning, streaming white matter. She ran to the mirror and gasped—her eyes were bright red. She went to an eye doctor, who gave her soothing medication but could find no cause for the burning redness.
Her feeling of uncleanness persisted, as did the tears and the nerves; she wouldn’t let Jim touch her. Finally she went to gynecologist, who suggested she see a psychiatrist.
Hypnosis and Abduction
Ayers could find nothing to disprove her story or explain the missing hour. Nor could he find any psychological or marital problems in Kay’s background. So the center brought in a psychiatrist, who hypnotized her back to that night in 1975.
And there she is, driving down the road, alone in the dark woods a little after 3 a.m.
“The lights—they’re back again. The same three lights,” she says. But this time they flood the night with a red haze until she can’t see where she’s going.
“I pull the car over to the side of the road. I feel myself put it into park—I don’t really want to, I just do it.
“And there he is, standing beside my door.” She’s crying now, whimpering. “He’s wearing a white suit, like a snowmobile suit. And his head is big, really big.
“I open my door. His hand comes in—he’s wearing white gloves—and he helps me out. I just go. Oh, please, somebody, help, help.”
They’re Closing In
He leads her down the road and “there it is, the UFO. It’s red on top, there’s a red bubble. There’s two more of them. They reach out for me. They take my hands, the first one has his hand on my back.
“Oh, no, they’re pushing and pulling. I don’t like this, I don’t like getting pushed and pulled. Oh, no, no. I want to go home. No, no.” She’s panting, sobbing, crying.
They’re not human, they’re narrow. Big, really big. Dark. Very close. They’re closing in.
“They’re pulling me in headfirst now. Oh, no. I can’t see, I can’t see. We’re in the bubble, in this big room. Oh, no, no, no.
“What’s happening now? I don’t know. I feel very, very nothing. My muscles are just hanging. The red light, up above.
“Oh, their faces are close, so very close.” More sobs, pants. “They’re not human, they’re narrow. Big, really big. Dark. Very close. They’re closing in. Oh, no more, no more.”
The Missing Ayers Files
There’s probably a lot more to Kay’s story, but that’s where the Minneapolis Star article trails off. We are missing a lot of details such as the location of the encounter, the exact dates, and any follow up. To get the rest of the story, we’d need to find the missing Bradley Ayers files. Ayers was the local field investigator for the Center for UFO Studies (CUFOS) from 1975-1979 and the center is seeking the files. Here’s a message we received at UFOdays.net from CUFOS regarding the lost Ayers files:
I wonder if you happen to know the status of his personal UFO files? So many files of investigators have been lost over the years because family members didn’t appreciate the work, and I’m certain that Ayers would have had material in his UFO files that should be preserved. If you have any contact info for his family, please let me know.
Kay’s story sounds eerily similar to a few other incidents from the same year, such as the famous Forster case in Elmwood, WI, which took place about a month after Kay’s encounters. If you know Kay, have more details about her case, or if you know how to find the Ayers files, get in touch with us here at UFOdays.net.
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