I needed a break from quite an intense few weeks and the Probe International Conference, in St. Anne’s, Lancashire, seemed just the ticket. Sam Wright, the organiser, had invited me several weeks previously and though I hoped to go I wasn’t sure that I could get away.
Anyway, I could.
I picked up my mate Ben Emlyn-Jones on Friday morning and off we went, oop North. Ben would be a speaker on the Sunday. We are both extremely fond of the Probe conferences with their unique, warm and friendly, family atmosphere, fascinating attendees, and mix of interesting speakers…not to mention the strangeties that so often occur there.
The journey was uneventful though we were followed by a large black car for a long way, which seemed to be hanging back sometimes behind other cars in the middle and inside lanes. It only overtook us at the M6-M55 junction and at the same moment that a blue car rapidly careered its way into a gap by the side of us, from a slip road, almost causing an incident.
I dropped Ben off at his hotel and then went to find myself one. I’d secured a room for Saturday and Sunday nights but it was fully-booked for the Friday night. In luck, the first I called at, the Langdale (now the Ashton summat or other), where I’d stayed for the previous two conferences that I’d spoken at, had a room for Friday. After unloading my car I browsed a couple of the shops in town and lazed away the rest of the day.
It was soon morning and time for breakfast. Sam and I shared the same table and enjoyed a laugh and a lively chat. The Langdales is where Probe puts up the speakers and seated alone at the table next to us was Jo Ann Richards, who’d been flown in from the St8es for a second time, to talk about her husband who is in the pokie (supposedly because he knows too much). I didn’t buy her story when she spoke the last time…but that’s me (and I’m not, by a long chalk, alone) – and others feel differently.
So, after breakfast, packing up my stuff, and a short drive, I fronted up at the YMCA, the venue for the exceptional Probe International conference (at least it has been for several years – more on this later). Officially, this would be Sam’s last conference in charge.
Lots of my friends and acquaintances were already there and because everyone is made very welcome at Probe it isn’t long before new acquaintances and friendships are made. Soon it was 10 a.m. and time for the first speaker, Brian Halliwell, who gave a fascinating lecture on time and time slips. (I spoke to Brian afterwards and mentioned how ‘time’ is a 9-11 word (so concept) – some of the dates he gave in his presentation added to 9-11, or 11-9.)
During the break I was sitting chatting with a friend when I was approached by a dark-skinned man dressed in expensive clothes. He said, “Hello Ellis”, and held out his hand. It was then I recognised him; his name is Vitaly Safarov, and he’s spoken at Probe a couple of times. He was about to make an announcement, he said.
I had been told, in confidence, over quite some time, how an American outfit, connected to the late (iffy, as far as I’m concerned, and much hyped) Dolores Cannon‘s company, Ozark Publishing, had offered to invest a great deal of money in Probe, and that it was all going ahead. Vitaly Safarov is part of Ozark.
Safarov addressed the underwhelmed audience. Using a sound system that was at it’s worst during this pitch, and a video that refused to behave too, laying out the company’s plans for an American, Laughlin-style 3-day congress to be held in a large hotel (part of the Britannia Hotels group) in Blackpool (a bling seaside town as close as England gets to a Vegas or a Laughlin in character). The aim would be to keep everyone in the hotel; the deal (if I heard him right) is a 145 quid package that includes 3 days of conference tickets and 3 nights b&b, with vouchers for meals.) Blackpool was (and likely still is) in line to become a major casino town, by the way.
That Probe is going corporate is not my only reservation about this move but of course I wish it all the best. I wrote about my horrendous experiences at the Lauglin UFO Congress in my book, Dogged Days.
I also suffered similar experiences at the hotel and the venue of the Exopolitics‘ conference that I spoke at in Leeds but the psychic assaults on me were certainly nothing to do with them and everything to do with disrupting my talk and the interview I was doing for the documentary, ‘Don’t Mention the Reptilians‘, the next day.
The next two speakers were Miles Johnston:
“Miles Johnston of the Bases Project will provide a “join the dots” look at the TWO types of Black Goo and the continued “Controlled disclosure” we are involved with. The existence of The Predator, and why it’s in the powers that be, who have now to be taken to account. We can no longer fold our arms and blame those we have handed over our powers to , and blame them. We must take collective responsibility and take back control of our lives and not blame the other guy. Time to Grow UP, or Face extinction.”
and Dex Dobie.
“Our very own Dex Tells us all about New Information on Current activities and What is going on with our dimension All up to date info you mustn’t miss, where we are and what the dimensions are doing be here to find out more !!!! … “
Followed by Jo Ann Richards (mentioned previously):
Ten years after the interspecies conference held in Devon and Cornwall, the next big conference was held in Iran under the guise of the Shah’s birthday celebration. Learn which species attended, the logistics of their arrivals, how the non-human families were housed and entertained, the political intrigues surrounding the conference, and the developed as the end result.”
Jo Ann seems a nice lady but as for the story she was telling on her previous visit, as I said, I wasn’t convinced by it. When she began speaking I was struggling to keep an open mind and to give her a fair hearing; and though I persevered, what she was saying this time, the information she was passing on (supposedly) from her husband, still didn’t resonate at true…but then these feelings of conflict I was experiencing between the trustworthy, ‘ordinary’, homely woman that presented, and my intuition regarding the veracity of the stories, abruptly changed tack…
Behind Jo Ann a yellow-orange glow began to form, and spread across the stage – at its brightest behind her. This glow was in the shape of flames, though they didn’t flicker or move. A large orb appeared above her head. I stood up at this point, to get a better view. Behind her stood a man. He was dressed in a military-style, smart, dark uniform, with shiny buttons. His bearing suggested military also. I could not make out his facial features as they were hidden in the glow. The man faded away and close to where he had stood a bipedal reptilian, about the same height (just under 6 foot, at a guess) manifested. Neither the man nor the reptilian moved. Then a ball of glowing golden light appeared, (only partly) attached to the left-hand side of Jo Ann’s head. My impression was that it was a shifted aura. These incidents happened over the course of her talk, the immobile flames never leaving. At the end Jo Ann answered questions from an incredulous audience and during this time she walked down from the stage. As she stood there several balls, brown and heavily spiked, swept over the chair she had been sitting on. I think more happened, but I can’t recall what right now.
When Jo Ann had finished her spot I waited for audience members to approach her, as always happens after a lecture, but nobody did. I felt urged to let her know what I had been seeing, so I did. The man, Jo Ann felt, she said, was her dad. She seemed resigned at the rest, and rubbed my left arm. During the conversation I told her that I’d listened to her previous lecture but left it early (which I had), because I didn’t believe it. She didn’t flinch.
This had been the final talk of the day and as people milled around chatting a friend of Ben’s, Colin, kindly invited me to join him and some other people I knew for a drink later on. Ben was intending to stay in because he wanted to be fresh for his maiden Probe (that just sounds wrong) talk in the morning. I felt hesitant, but put it down to not being a pub person (not just because I very rarely drink alcohol). However, I had resolved to myself that I’d be more sociable than usual this time and accept any invitations to evening get-togethers. Colin said he’d text me to let me know where they’d be.
As I was about to leave the car park I spotted Ben setting off on a hike to his hotel, so gave him a lift before heading off to find and settle in to my next B&B, and to write down what had happened during Jo Ann Richards lecture; because I was sure to forget if I didn’t.
It was night, don’t know what time, when I decided to walk to the chippie for my dinner. About half an hour later (it must have been, but I’m not sure), sauntering back, I noticed a mixed group of people by a car close by, to my left; they had all turned to watch me. As I clocked them I dropped a piece of fish while biting into it. I tried to find it but couldn’t, yet when I returned to my meal none of it had been eaten and, in fact, there seemed to be more than I’d started with. I was briefly puzzled but continued on my journey and eating my dinner. I passed empty cars parked on my side of the dimly-lit road but in one of them was a man sitting alone, in complete darkness. He was wearing a hat and a coat. I couldn’t see his face, and he didn’t move, I carried on. Drawing close to my hotel there was another car parked in the shadows with someone inside it, and again in darkness; this time it was a woman, and the car was facing the hotel. It all seemed very odd.
Shortly after getting back to my room Colin texted me and I left to meet him and the others, some I knew, at the Lord Derby. Ben had changed his mind, the conversation flowed and we all moved to another pub, before leaving quite late. All night I only drank ginger beer.
I was almost back at the hotel when I began to feel dizzy. Arriving in my room my stomach felt extremely sensitive and the nerves in that area on fire. I lay down on the bed but that was so hard that it too was a torture. I tried laying on pillows and towels but there was no relief. I don’t think I slept at all. By morning I was extremely ill, and very, very, tired. My stomach was so swollen that it looked as if I was 3 months, or more, pregnant and it was very painful. I somehow persuaded my body to take me to the conference and managed to get lost on the way. I had arranged to meet Chris Turner, the film-maker, and his wife there, and also I wanted to show up to support Ben. I had to go, come what may. Unfortunately I missed the first lecture but managed to speak to Chris and his wife and to catch the first 5 minutes of Ben’s presentation, before my illness got the better of me. On the way out I overheard Jo Ann Richards saying to two people I’d never seen before, “The people love me, and they love my material”.
I got lost again on the way back to the hotel but I did speak to the landlady and requested another room, with a softer bed. She said she’d give me a shout when one was ready – the one across the hallway. Back in my room I drifted in and out of sleep until she called out that the room was ready for me. Gathering my belongings I crossed over. The bed was like luxury and I fell asleep…but very soon I was awake and rushing to the loo to be sick. This happened a few times and then I fell sound asleep…until I heard voices, two women and a man. A key rattled in a lock, and the door opened. I tried to open my eyes and get up, but I couldn’t. I heard movement and a woman’s voice say, “He’s asleep”.
I awoke at about 7 a.m. feeling much improved but still a bit dizzy. Despite this I decided I’d drive home, asked to be looked after, and did just that.
When I got back I discovered that Sam Wright had tried to call me, so I rang him back. He wanted to make sure I was OK and told me that another psychic had taken very ill as well, and that she had left early; and that Dex Dobie had been ill too. There was something wrong with the energy at Probe this time. Sam said they are going to smudge and pray at the beginning of each day at their final YMCA conference in March.
The day after returning from Lancashire I had a similar incident to one I’ve reported previously. A huge thump under the rear of my car. At the same instant the internal lights packed up and half an hour later came on and went off again, a few times. How those two things can be related I don’t know. The man at the garage that discovered my tyre valves had been sliced (before the car went bang last time, with an apparently impossible issue under normal circumstances) is going to have a look at my car on Wednesday.
It’s Sam and Jean that have enabled Probe International conferences to flourish in their unique warm and unfettered manner. I want to thank them very, very, much for all of the love and energy they have put into this wonderful event. If you can make it to the final Probe conference at the YMCA in March 2016 please do. Sam’s son Paul, who is also a very lovely person, is taking over from his dad and has been helping him since his mum, Jean, passed over.
It’ll be wonderful to have a full house to thank this remarkable couple and their family for 30 years of passionate devotion to bringing information of all kinds to the exceptional audiences of Probe International.
Thanks Sam and Jean for everything you’ve done and the opportunities you have given to so many people, including me, to hear and to share what we’ve learned and experienced. You are legends.
P.S. I can’t find the note I made about what happened with Jo Ann but I’ve covered most of it hopefully.