This book by Judith Cameron, PhD, is the true story of her ongoing encounters with benevolent extraterrestrials and the education that she has received from them throughout her life. She had a lucid dream that told her that part of her life's work was to train to be an ambassador-a liaison between Earth humans and extraterrestrials when those extraterrestrials came en masse on their first contact mission. Follow Judy's adventure, from being a child of six and meeting her first extraterrestrials, to the present-day encounters, many of which are a result of her training to become an ambassador to the universe. You will learn about the Galactic Federation of Light and their representatives on Earth who have continued her learning and training. Sheldon Nidle of the Planetary Activation Organization and Dr. Steven Greer, MD, founder of CSETI, are two of the selected teachers whom Judy has chosen to work with. Judy's encounters have taken her around the globe to places such as Bora Bora, one of the Tahitian Islands, Orpheus Island, Australia on the Great Barrier Reef, Hawaii, and the Great Southwest of the United States. Working as a public school teacher for forty years teaching all grade levels and at NASA as an education consultant, along with her work as a doctor of clinical hypnotherapy, has given Judy the background and credibility that she needs to carry out her mission. Follow Judy now as you learn of the wonderful possibilities for our future Earth.
Caught Between Two Worlds
A Journey through Time
By Judith L. CameronBalboa Press
Copyright © 2014 Judith L. Cameron, Ph.D.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-1541-0Contents
Preface, xi,
Acknowledgments, xiii,
Introduction, xix,
Part I: The Beginning, 1,
Chapter 1 Summer, 3,
Chapter 2 Meeting Bob, 7,
Chapter 3 Saying Hello, 21,
Chapter 4 The Day After, 41,
Chapter 5 A Return Visit, 51,
Chapter 6 An Encounter with Bob, 60,
Chapter 7 The Men in Black, 69,
Chapter 8 The End of an Era, 78,
Chapter 9 Saying Good-Bye for a While, 81,
Part II: Those Interim Years, 87,
Chapter 10 Falling Apart, 89,
Chapter 11 One Final Visitation, 94,
Part III: Education and Life Experiences, 101,
Chapter 12 1958–1967, 103,
Chapter 13 1968–1984, 109,
Part IV: Reawakening to Contact, 115,
Chapter 14 Sunset on Bora Bora, 117,
Chapter 15 Teacher-in-Space and Renewed Memories, 122,
Chapter 16 Return to Eden and Reconnecting to the Past, 127,
Chapter 17 Orpheus Island, 137,
Chapter 18 Continuing Contact, 149,
Chapter 19 Sacramento and a Strange Encounter, 159,
Part V: Important Encounters Between August 1991 and August 1992, 163,
Chapter 20 ET Encounter on Highway 375, Nevada, 165,
Chapter 21 Encounters in Trinidad, Colorado, 191,
Chapter 22 Encounter in Roswell, New Mexico, 225,
Part VI: Becoming an Ambassador to the Universe, 243,
Chapter 23 Encounter in Joshua Tree National Park, 245,
Chapter 24 Encounters in Borrego Springs, California, 255,
Part VII: Conclusion, 263,
Chapter 25 What Happens Next?, 265,
Part VIII: Epilogue, 277,
Additional Resources, 281,
About the Author, 283,
CHAPTER 1
Summer
An equation is right when it becomes simple.
—Albert Einstein
It was a warm summer night, long ago—1951 to be exact. It was the kind of night that was so still, you could hear your heart pounding in your chest, and so hot, it almost took your breath away. I stood quietly and listened to the crickets chirping to one another with their usual litany of sounds, and I found myself sweating from the June Sacramento heat. My arms felt sticky and wet like I had just stepped out of a sauna. The place was Antelope, California, a sleepy little farming community about fifteen miles from Sacramento. I was six years old and spending the summer on my grandparents' ten-acre farm.
The serenity and peacefulness of the farm drew me in, even at that early age. There was something about being outside with nature that seemed to direct my life. My grandparents raised some cattle and had milk cows, chickens, pigs, a couple of horses, and hundreds of turkeys. There were large almond and walnut orchards and many fruit trees. My grandmother, who I called Nonnie, also had a vegetable and flower garden. Sissy and Puggy, their two Pekinese dogs, were my friends while I was there, and I loved playing with them.
Down the road from the farm was the train station. It was really a tiny general store owned by Ed and Lucielle Foote, who also ran the railroad station. I loved to hear the freight trains rolling through Antelope, especially in the middle of the night. I would think of the hobos who rode the trains and wonder what kind of life it would be to just ride the rails. It sounded like fun. I remember thinking that tomorrow I would ride down to the train station with my grandpa to get a Grapette soda and talk to the hobos when the train stopped at the station. The hobos usually rode in the open boxcars, and they enjoyed talking to me, although it made my grandpa and Ed pretty nervous. I did not understand then about the ways of the world. I was fearless, as nothing in my six years of living had ever scared me. But now I was brought back from my thoughts by a sound near the pump house. The time was three in the morning. Little did I know when I followed the sound that night, something so phenomenal was about to occur that it would change the course of my life forever.
Before getting to that, though, let's go back in time to the early 1950s. World War II had been over for just a short time, and the country was starting to recover from the hardships that had been placed on people during the war. It was a simple, more gentle time. But in post World War II Sacramento, times were hard. In most American families, dads went to work each day and moms stayed home and raised the children. In my case, both of my parents had to work, so I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. Also, my mom was pregnant with my brother, who would be born on July 12 of that year.
Farming was still a productive way of life as you moved from the cities into the country. We lived down by the Sacramento River then, in a town named Broderick. We lived there until I was five years old, when my parents were able to afford the house payment on a little house in one of the suburbs of Sacramento. Rock 'n' roll had just been introduced to the current generation of tweens and teens, and our collective parents and grandparents thought we were going to hell in a handbasket. People who could afford it were booking flights on the new fledgling airlines, and some began learning how to fly small two-seater aircraft. My uncle had his pilot's license and his own airplane, and he would take me flying sometimes. I loved soaring over the rooftops and across the terrain that was mostly country and mountains.
Television had just been invented, and only families with means could afford to have one. No one in our family had one yet, and we would not get one for several years. I spent a lot of time in the mobile library, checking out mostly science fiction novels. I was already an avid reader at six years old. I loved to read; it took me away to faraway places. Also, there was no space program yet.
You may remember that in 1947, Orson Welles broadcast The War of the Worlds on the radio. The story was about Martians invading Earth and taking over the planet. Even though it was announced before the broadcast and during the broadcast several times that it was not real, people believed it was really happening. Panic ensued, and many cities in the United States experienced chaos. Because it was unfamiliar to most people, except in science fiction novels, the idea of beings from another planet was terrifying.
Since flying had been introduced for recreational travel, the aeronautical industry began to grow. Returning soldiers were accepted to college by way of the GI Bill, which paid soldiers for their college education. Many majored in engineering and aeronautics, and they found an expanding and prosperous industry to work in when they graduated. From this industry, our space program grew.
Also in 1947, over a town in southern New Mexico, an incident occurred that would change the course of history in the United States and our planet—an incident few people even heard of until many years later. The town was Roswell, and I was only two years old at the time.
I do not know if it has ever been thoroughly established whether there was one spacecraft or two, but it has been established that there was a crash of an extraterrestrial spacecraft on the desert floor on July 2, 1947, although the official explanation at first was a downed weather balloon. Later in the mid-1990s, when people started actively investigating the incident, the military said that it was not an extraterrestrial craft but experimental dummies that the army had...
