The School

My ELINT classes began without a hitch. The ELINT school was held at one of the NSA’s office complexes just north of Fort Meade called the FANX (pronounced “FAN-EX”). It was a challenge to go to my day classes and be expected to attend my night classes for PPD. By the end of the first month I was exhausted. The exhaustion I felt wasn’t so much a physical exhaustion, as it was a mental. Both classes were mentally challenging but the PPD classes were challenging on a different level. A level I wasn’t even aware existed prior to PPD school.

School for PPD started the same day as my ELINT classes. I met the van after my ELINT classes had ended for the day, as instructed. As soon as I entered the van and sat down, the doors locked, presumably under the control of the driver. We drove for about a half an hour. A pattern never seemed to develop in the turns and stops during the trip, which prevented me from mentally mapping where I was being taken. Right before the final stop we went through what would become a familiar ritual of movements. A slow down, the front axle going over a slight bump, then the back, the driver placing the engine in park, and the “thunk” of the doors unlocking about 10 seconds after the last bump.

During this first day, the garage appeared much as it did before. Absent of supervision, I looked around a bit more. The walls were black. I looked at the doors that the van would have come through. I didn’t see any evidence of sunlight coming through the cracks around the doors. Although most days it was dark by the time I arrived at PPD school, this first day I left the hotel just before dusk. The entire time I attended PPD classes, I never once saw any sunlight come into this room where the van would park. I came to the conclusion that the building we were in was not out in the open, but perhaps underground or hidden within a bunker of some sort.

I placed my hand against the metal plate, heard the click, opened the door and entered the vestibule. Making sure the door was shut behind me, I went to the left wall and placed my forehead on the visor. After a few seconds I heard a tone which was my cue to place my hand against the metal plate once again. I entered the elevator, pushed the one button and down I went. After coming to a halt the elevator doors opened and I stepped out into the room. The first thing I saw was the pitcher of water on the table which reminded me what the captain had told me about the water and the pills. I went to the table, poured a glass of water, grabbed two of the four pills sitting in the plate and popped them in my mouth and drank the water to wash them down. I figured the other pills were for the other student scheduled to attend classes at the same time.

As soon as I sat down to my workstation, the elevator doors slid open. I jumped slightly, startled by the unexpected motion and noise. Out of the elevator stepped my classmate whom I never once said a word to during the entire length of our class together. I didn’t know his name, where he was from or anything else about him. We simply nodded to one another and he sat down. After taking his pills, he slid over to his workstation. He appeared to be a bit more familiar with things than I. He moved with the confidence that only familiarity brings. He put his headphones on which reminded me that I needed to do the same. Sitting at my workstation with my headphones on, I waited for my instruction to begin and continued to look at my surroundings. The computer screen in front of me was huge. I was used to working with screens a bit smaller. I thought it was interesting that there was no mouse for the computer.

With no warning, a voice started to speak to me through my headphones. It sounded almost computerized, but not quite. I finally came to the conclusion, over time, that it was a human voice but was electronically altered slightly.
My instructor began with an overview of what I’d be learning over the next several weeks. The overview took about 5 minutes, as I recall. He closed the overview with a phrase that I would become quite familiar with; “prepare for more information.” This was always to let me know that there would be a slight break before the next learning session.

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Line Flattening

I remember my first day of ELINT school being fun because I had a lot of people to interface with. There was a lot of joking around as well as a lot of good information to be learned.

The first day of PPD school could not, in any way, be described as fun. By my second day of attending PPD school I was sick and tired of it and I didn’t want to go anymore. The novelty of being an “intuitive communicator” had worn off.

The main reason why it wasn’t fun is that I didn’t have anyone to talk to the whole time. I got 10 minute breaks every hour. But that wasn’t much of a respite since I couldn’t go anywhere and I couldn’t talk to the guy across the room.

We were not allowed to bring in any reading material, paper or any other loose articles. Captain White had been very clear on this. I presumed it was for security reasons, although I could never figure out how a magazine would compromise security unless they were worried we’d write something on it. We weren’t even allowed to go to the restroom while we were in PPD class. There were a few times this was a big issue for me. But I got used to taking care of it before leaving the hotel. Like many other things, I just had to grin and bear it and move on.

All these negative aspects notwithstanding, the school was definitely challenging. But staying sane trying to keep up with my ELINT studies and attending PPD classes was a feat. Both were tiresome.

When I began to put this book together, I struggled with how I would describe to the reader what takes place when one intuitively communicates. It’s very difficult to put into terms that can be readily understandable. I compare this with the difficulty in explaining the sense of sight to someone born without the capacity to see. How would one describe the sense of sight in that case? It would be nearly impossible. But I have attempted to put it into terms from which the reader can at least establish a starting point in the understanding process.

My first lesson that first day, in PPD class, consisted of listening to one tone and watching a box on my screen that had a perfect sinewave running through it. A perfect (360 degree) sinewave is a line that forms a perfect arc and then repeats itself as a negative arc. There were ten boxes like this one.

I was told to listen to the tone and try to repeat it by mentally humming it - not verbally, only mentally. At the same time, I was to watch my first box to look for movement of the sinewave. The goal was to see the sinewave flatten completely. This was obviously exotic technology I was working with because how else could I affect a change on a sinewave without being hooked to it somehow? Other than the headphones, which were only used to listen to my instructor, I had no connection to the computer on which I was working. I had a hard time believing I was going to be able to manipulate the sinewave with only my mind. Nevertheless, I listened to my instructor and did what I was told. The process was slow, arduous and extremely boring.

That first day was defeating. I started wondering if I was going to be a disappointment because I couldn’t “flatten my line.” As I practiced mentally humming this note, I was told to watch the sinewave for any movement. I was told that I would see the sinewave bend towards the center line; essentially making the sinewave flat. It was around this time that I started to wonder how this skill would be applied to communicating with aliens. It was a frustrating time, not only because my progress was excruciatingly slow, but I was questioning the validity of the ability in the first place.
It wasn’t until my third day that I saw progress. Imagine, mentally humming a note for three to four hours straight, for three days! It was borderline torture. I was beginning to think my abilities were defective in some way. During this whole time my instructor was of no help. He didn’t speak to me much during my first three days because he couldn’t do anything with me until I began to flatten my line.

When I finally saw progress I nearly shot out of my seat and danced around the room. I was sitting there looking at my screen as usual, feeling defeat as I had been for the past two days when something “clicked” in my mind. It’s very difficult to explain, but I felt what seemed to be an audible click in my mind. Just at that moment my sinewave flickered. Up until this point, that sinewave had been as solid as a rock, with absolutely no movement. So when it finally did move, it startled me. I wasn’t anticipating what had just happened. When the “click” happened, a straight line appeared on the screen that marked the top of the positive sinewave (the part of the sinewave above the straight line) and it stretched all the way to the hash mark to the left of the screen. It gave you the ability to gauge exactly how flat the line was becoming. Each hash mark represented 30 degrees of flattening. There was a readout at the top right hand corner of each sinewave box that would keep a constant record of the flattest your line in that particular box had ever become as well as the most recent measurement.

Although this first bit of success took three days, subsequent successes came more quickly. Immediately after that moment when my first “click” happened, my instructor was speaking to me in the headphones giving me further directions on what I should be doing next. It was like the horse track announcer saying “...and they’re off!”

My next goal was to flatten the line in the first box (there were ten lines total, each in their own separate boxes) a total of 360 degrees (180 negative, 180 positive). It took me the rest of my time at school that day to do it. I finally got the readout to say 180 degrees just before leaving for the night. (The readout only registered the positive fluctuations because the negative ones were simply a mirror of the positive.)

I went home exhilarated. I felt some sort of accomplishment. I also felt that it was no longer something intangible. It actually happened. I had used an ability that was given to me by an alien race. This was a strangely powerful feeling. I went home feeling like I could conquer the world. Of course, that only lasted until my next lesson. I had no idea how much more difficult things were going to become.
 

The day of my first success was a Friday. I had all weekend to savor the victory and gloat. This was difficult because I had no one to share it with. This was the first time (and definitely not the last) that I felt quite alone and isolated from the rest of the world. I wanted to call my best friend in California, but I couldn’t. During the first few months after I became aware of PPD, I fought back desires to tell someone about my new-found knowledge. It was very difficult. The one thing that always was foremost in my mind was that even if I did tell someone, the chances of them believing me were minuscule. Because they may have a hard time believing, they would view me differently and it would affect my relationship with that person.

That next Monday didn’t come soon enough for me. Up until my breakthrough on Friday, I had begun to dread coming to PPD class because I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. Now I was excited.

My instructor started my next lesson off by playing another tone for me to mentally hum. It was a different tone. I could tell because I had become so familiar with the first tone that I started to dream about it. As the second tone began I remember thinking, “I’ll knock this one out in no time!”

My confidence was warranted because I clicked on this one after only 30 or 40 minutes. I saw the marker line appear and the readout jumped to 5. The clicking startled me again.

I was able to flatten my second line in a matter of an hour or so after it had clicked. As soon as I had caused the readout to display 180 degrees, my instructor began to speak to me once again. He spoke sparingly, only when necessary to guide my actions. If I ever had a question I had to type it in a feedback box on my screen. I rarely had to do this though. I asked a few questions in the beginning, but most of my questions were summarily disregarded as irrelevant and I was audibly notified to continue my lesson. Most of the questions he disregarded as irrelevant were questions about the project and who I’d be talking to. He would only answer questions directly related to my learning. If the questions were anything other than that I was wasting my time.

After I had flattened my second line, the third one came much more easily. By the end of my lessons, on Tuesday, I had flattened all ten lines the full 180 degrees required with the help of 10 different tones.

By this time, the novelty of my situation had worn off a bit. I started to fall asleep earlier at night after classes. This helped my power of concentration at my ELINT class as well as my PPD class. My ELINT classes were going well. I was enjoying the curriculum and I found it extremely relevant to my regular Air Force job. My PPD classes had absolutely no relevancy for me yet, but I was enjoying the mental challenge it was providing. If I could have changed one thing up to this point, it would have been the actual time my PPD classes were held. It was very inconvenient because I barely had enough time to wind down from a full day of ELINT classes before I had to gear back up for PPD school.

I had been late for my van on several occasions due to ELINT classes letting out later than normal. Evidently, they were in tune with my ELINT classes and where I was in my schedule because each time I was running late from ELINT class the van would inevitably arrive at my hotel approximately 15 to 20 minutes after I did. They must have had some way of keeping track of where I was during these times, although I never felt like I was being followed.

The next day of PPD classes, after successfully flattening all my lines, was by far the most challenging. One of the exciting parts about PPD school was that I never knew from one day to the next what to expect. Each day was a mystery. This day brought the next big challenge; flattening two lines at one time.

My instructor told me to mentally visualize two points in space, each representing separate tones that would be alternately played in the headphones. As I did this I was to force the two points together creating one point in space. He said that they would resist one another like opposite poles of a magnet but that I had to visualize myself sapping the energy from each of them, bringing that energy towards myself, so that they would no longer be able to force themselves apart.

This exercise proved extremely difficult. My mind felt like it was weightlifting the whole time. I thought the hard part of the school had ended but it had only begun. It took me a full week to realize my goal of bringing these first two points in space together. By the time I was able to do this, my will to continue with PPD school had almost been broken once again. I think that if I had been given a choice, I would have ended my PPD schooling mid-way through that crucial week.

All this time, my silent classmate had come and gone each day just like myself. I wondered if he took the same van as I did each day. I came to the conclusion that it was impossible to do because we sometimes arrived only a few minutes apart from one another. I saw him in the dining hall within the FANX complex once. As we passed one another we both smiled and simply nodded to each other. Nothing was said, as was always the case.

After I had successfully flattened two lines at once, my instructor was quick to move me on to bigger and better things. My next goal was an obvious progression by this time: to flatten three lines at the same time. This presented an even bigger challenge. It was very difficult to have the concentration necessary to bring the two points in space together, but I had finally done it. To bring three together seemed an impossibility.

I dived into the flattening of three lines with vigor. I succeeded in doing it the same day I started. It was at this point I started to feel the nuances of my IC abilities. I was able to explore the ability on a small scale. For lack of a better analogy it was much like playing a mental pipe organ. You start to learn chords after a while. It wasn’t quite like this, but it’s the closest I can come to describing how it felt. I went on to flattening four lines at a time. It was a few days after I had flattened four lines simultaneously that I saw the white van.
 

I opened the door to the blue Air Force van, stepped out, and headed to the vestibule door that would lead me to my PPD classroom, when I caught a glimpse of light that seemed out of place within the garage. I was quite familiar with this room by now and I knew that the light I was noticing was not normal. I was so used to my routine by this time that it hadn’t really dawned on me to attempt to investigate this room in any great detail beyond an occasional visual sweep. Of course, Casper the friendly van driver would always stay until I had entered the vestibule. So this ruled out any unsupervised exploring.

But this time, I couldn’t resist. I looked around trying to find the source of the light. I turned back towards the van and to my right I could see what appeared to be headlights shining on the wall in front of the blue van. But I looked closer and noticed that it appeared the lights were coming from a vehicle parked on the left side of the blue van.

So I got up enough nerve to investigate. In order to do so, and at the same time be as sneaky as possible, I walked to the back of the blue van to see what was on the other side. I did this as quickly as possible. I didn’t get too far when Casper honked his horn. Of course, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

But before he honked his horn, to presumably tell me I was not to go where I was going, I got a quick glimpse of the backside of a white van. After the honk, I immediately turned and rapidly walked towards my authorized destination; the vestibule.

On my way down the elevator, I kept wondering what was going to happen now. Had I seen something that I wasn’t supposed to? Surely the captain would find out. What would he say? What was another van doing in the parking area upstairs? When the elevator opened up into the classroom I halfway expected to find a maintenance man to be working on something which would explain the van. But as was normal, there was no one there. As I sat down to my lessons for the night, I couldn’t get the white van out of my thoughts.

Everything had fallen into such a routine that I had begun to take everything for granted. I simply went to two schools now and I had a routine for each. But the van sighting was something exciting and out of the ordinary. It created a distraction in my daily routine. I only hoped my snooping didn’t get me into trouble.

As it turned out, the captain never once mentioned it. The next day I braced myself for a meeting with the captain but it never came. I was sure he found out, but was unsure why he never called me on it. After a few days, I assumed it wasn’t as big of a deal as I had thought. Then, I started thinking that he didn’t call me on it because it was important but if he didn’t mention it I wouldn’t think it had any significance and would forget about it. I drove myself crazy second guessing the whole situation. I found, over time, that you could easily do that when working around classified projects. You start to question reality, or what seems to be reality.

From then on, every time I would step out of the blue van, I would always look to my left to see if there were any headlights shining on the wall. I never saw the lights again. I even squatted to try to look on the other side of the van once but nothing was there.

Gradually, the white van episode faded from my thoughts as I continued to attend PPD school and discover my new abilities.

I believe it was around the time I was attempting to flatten 9 lines at once when the mysterious white van popped up in my life once again. This time it was completely by accident.

I was driving back to my hotel from a night out at the movies on a Friday or Saturday night. I had just taken a two lane exit to my hotel. While stopped at the light, behind several other cars, I happened to glance over to my left and ahead of my position. I noticed a white van that looked like it could have been the one I saw in the PPD garage. The van was signaling to turn left and I was going right. I looked at it closely to see if I could firmly identify it as the one I had seen previously. I remember thinking that it would be too coincidental for it to be the same one.

Then I saw the dent.

The white van I was looking at had a dent in the right rear corner of the chrome bumper. It was in the same location I remembered seeing a dent on the van in the garage before my snooping was brought to an abrupt end.

I became extremely excited. Could this be the same van? I suddenly changed my turn signal to show I was trying to turn left. When the light turned green I edged my way into the left lane and followed the white van. My heartbeat quickened like a sprinter in search of a gold medal. I was on to something! But just as suddenly as my excitement came, dread started to hit me as well. Was I overstepping my boundaries? Should I just back off and let it be? All these questions started to crop up. What if this was the captain’s van? Would he recognize me following him? I suddenly became petrified at the prospect of being discovered, but my overwhelming curiosity got the better of me so I continued to follow.

It turned out I didn’t need to risk exposure for long. About a half mile off the highway, in a little town called Linthicum, the van signaled to turn right and pulled into the parking lot of a business. I kept going, not wanting to be discovered. I quickly turned around by doing a u-turn in the middle of the road and drove back by the entrance to this business. I wasn’t paying attention to the name of the business on the sign. My concern was where the van went. It drove up and parked in front of the business. A man got out and went into the building. Only after the man disappeared into the building did I look at the name of the company. From the name on the sign out front, it was obvious what their business was. The company was involved with the technology of noise cancellation.

I drove away more confused than ever.
 

After finding out the van was associated with this company, my curiosity was running full throttle. I had to do a little research to see what they did. I discovered that they are a small company best known for their headphones. When worn, these headphones filter the ambient noise normally heard by the wearer. The technology they employ effectively cancels the ambient, or background, noise that occurs in certain frequency ranges.

I didn’t quite know what to do with this new information. What did noise cancellation have to do with PPD? This bothered me during my entire stay in Maryland.
 

Meanwhile, PPD school was progressing rapidly. By the end of my third week I had flattened all ten lines simultaneously and was ready to graduate to still more difficult tasks.

The goal during my fourth week was to practice and master flattening lines in different combinations at once. By this time I could “feel” movement in the boxes. Only later did I realize that it was quite similar to communicating with my alien contacts. The windows not only were responding to my input, I could sense their output as well. This helped me in subsequent lessons. It would be vital in learning to assign relative meaning to the intuition. The audio tones, so crucial in the early stages of my development, had ceased. The tones were only used so that my human mind could relate to something tangible to lead me to uncover what my mind could do naturally once I had discovered and practiced it. The tones could be described as the bridge. I had reached my destination now I had only to learn to navigate in this new world.

In order to practice flattening separate combinations of lines at once, I would watch my screen and see when different sinewave boxes would light up. They would light up in different sequences first, one at a time. Then it progressed to two at once, then three, four, five...etc. All ten would then light up at once and I would have to flatten all the lines at one time.

My lessons were becoming much easier in comparison to my lessons earlier in the learning process. I could feel my skills becoming much stronger. I began to enjoy the school more because it wasn’t so much of a threat to my ego anymore. It was as if I had taken off the training wheels and was riding just fine on my own. Only now I was getting to ride progressively bigger bikes, which was very exhilarating.

At this point, though, I still couldn’t quite make the connection between what I was learning and how it would be applied to actual communication.
 

I began to assign meaning to the flattening of lines during my fifth week. In my interface box a string of numbers would scroll through and I would see, as well as sense, my sinewave boxes light up corresponding to each number. Numbers were easy because they corresponded with the metric system in a way. The number 1 was the flattening of the line in sinewave box number 1. The number 2 corresponded to box number 2 and so on. The number 11 would be the flattening of lines in sinewave box number 10 and 1. Eleven and up were a bit more complicated because depending on whether a number like 21 was 21 or 12 would change the degree of movement realized by the sinewave that would correspond to the second digit. The closest analogy I can come up with in trying to explain these differences between numbers is relating the process to phase angles. A phase angle is the rate at which a frequency changes and is measured in degrees. The sinewave in a particular box, relating to the number being relayed, would have to be at a certain phase angle. The phase angle would establish whether it were a 21, or a 12. Even this analogy has flaws because intuitive communication has nothing to do with frequencies or actual phase angles, but the concept is similar.
 

By this time, the nuances of the sinewave movements were becoming quite natural. I no longer would feel the clicking any more because everything had already clicked that was going to. By the time we got to the number 100, it had come naturally and we didn’t need to go any further with numbers.

During the latter part of my sixth week we moved on to concepts. The learning of concepts is much more difficult to explain, because by this time my mind was uncovering the intuitive abilities at a record pace.

At this point I must emphasize that intuitive communications is not a language in the sense there are verbs, adjectives, syllables. I simply started to comprehend what was going on in the pictures and videos based on the combinations of lines being flattened.

On the first day of concepts I was shown some pictures and sinewave boxes would simply begin lighting up in quick sequences with each at a different degree of flattening. I would automatically remember and understand that the flattening sequence represented the picture(s) shown at the time. In one day, we went from still pictures to video with my mind grasping the line flattening combinations as quickly as they came. It was much like a large scale memorization process. Sometimes I found myself in awe of what was happening. It was like we had awakened this ravenous monster and it needed to eat, gobbling up everything in its wake.

The last thing I learned was how to open a window to document the results of my future communications (referred to as “comms”). In order to document the comm I would be receiving from my alien contact I had to open an interface window in the background of my computer screen. The day I was to learn this I came to school to find a mouse set up near my computer terminal. In order to open the window, I had to click the far right button of my mouse and press the F10 key while the arrow was resting on the background screen of the computer. A dialogue box would appear with several choices.

During this reporting part of my lesson, my instructor became very vocal. All the teaching regarding the reporting procedures was done entirely via the headphones with my instructor speaking the whole time.

My instructor went on to say that at each place I would be stationed I would have the same PPD code name designated in the computer system. My code name would be “Staunch-118.” After bringing up the dialogue box, I would highlight Staunch-118 in the menu and type in my password. My password would be given to me at each base I reported to separately.

So I typed in the test password he gave me after choosing “Stauch-118” in the background screen of my computer. A separate window appeared, with a blank screen. I was told that I would never see anything contained within this screen, not even what I was typing. This was for security purposes, in case someone were to see what I was typing by accident.

It was at this time I was taught how the comms were to be reported. There were no hard and fast rules for reporting comms. I was to separate each part of the comm by a “/” symbol and I was to place a “///” at the very end of my report. That was it. Simple and to the point.

There were many questions I had but by this time I knew enough to not ask my instructor because he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any information. He stuck to my lesson and that was it. No more, no less.

My official lessons were over after the reporting class. I can’t remember how much longer I was in Maryland but however long it was, I continued to come to the PPD school to practice my skills. I would come to watch videos and watch my sinewave boxes light up in response to my repeating back intuitively what I was seeing in the videos. By this time, I could no longer correlate what the boxes were doing. But it sure looked impressive seeing the boxes light up.
My instructor would sometimes ask me to repeat certain video scenes again. So it appeared that they were able to monitor my results for accuracy. I’m not exactly sure how.

The videos I was watching had no audio. They were random recordings of people walking down the street, nature, people working, military aircraft flying (helicopters and fixed wing). There was an overwhelming amount of military images which I took as a sign I would be reporting primarily military oriented comms. There must have been 24 hours of video. As far as accuracy, my instructor only had me repeat a few things. In essence, I assumed by now that I had mastered my abilities.

I felt quite proud of my new ability. I had this feeling of being the chosen one. I think anyone would have felt this way, if placed in the same position. But those feelings of superiority faded over time. Mainly because there wasn’t anyone I could share this part of my life with.

I saw Captain White about a week before my ELINT classes were to end. He showed up at the PPD classroom about the time I always left for the night. He congratulated me on doing as well as I had and came to wish me good luck in the future. The visit was also to let me know that my PPD courses had come to an end. I had been practicing for the last few weeks and he said it was time to wrap it up. During this last meeting he also told me what to expect next. I was never to talk to anyone about this program unless the person was introduced to me by Captain White as a third party introduction. This is how Level 1 personnel kept control of the program. They had to introduce lower echelon personnel to someone before they could discuss anything. He told me I would be getting orders to go somewhere soon. He didn’t tell me where, but that was okay by me because I was ready to leave my current assignment and use my new abilities.

That last meeting with Captain White was unceremoniously short. He exited the room through the door next to my workstation that I had never seen anyone use and which had blended into my surroundings until now. I took a closer look at it. It looked like it was part of the wall but upon closer inspection I noticed it had a recessed door latch and the door slid open, disappearing into the wall behind my workstation, instead of opening in or out like normal doors.

I left the room for the last time and climbed into the van waiting for me upstairs. The drive home was uneventful. I was hoping to get a glimpse of my van driver this time but he would always drive off immediately after I shut the door. I didn’t care anymore. I had stopped trying to find things out. It took too much energy and wasn’t worth my time. The van drove off and I never saw the blue van or its mysterious driver ever again.

I went up to my hotel room that night wondering where life was going to lead me now. Especially since I was no longer in control of it.

The captain never once mentioned the white van incident. I was relieved by that.

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Photographs
 

This is the graduation certificate awarded to me for completing Course EA-280.

At the same time, I was going to school at night to learn how to utilize my intuitive communications abilities.

There was no certificate for that course.


This was my permanent change of station (PCS) orders, which took me from PPD Base #1 to PPD Base #2.

Certain sensitive information has been intentionally blacked out.

Still, the information left untouched is very interesting to the curious eye.


This was the view from the balcony of my dorm at PPD Base #1.
 

Another view from the balcony of my dorm.

The white dome in the distance is where I worked.


Here, I’m pictured climbing on of our parabolic antennae.

This is the antenna under the white dome pictured in the last photo.

This was during deconstruction of the site.

You can see part of one of the C-Vans in the lower right corner.


An official portrait taken in 1986.

This was four years before my cross-train into the electronic intelligence career field.

My military career was a lot less complicated then.
 

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