So why does a mild-mannered researcher and hypno-therapist, a former university professor and clinic director, get involved in such an exotic matter as the Star Kids phenomenon?


Good question.


As was true also in my research with experiencers of contact by the Star Visitors, I not so much went looking for the Star Kids and the Star Seeds, as they came looking for me. Let me provide you with a little background on this.

The first stage of my involvement with matters cosmic began in 1989, when I began working with experiencers of Star Visitor encounters. I had been a professional psychotherapist for three decades, and thought that I had heard everything. But in 1989 I found out that I had not. That year I had four different persons seek me out for counseling about minor problems of daily living. These individuals were mentally sound and ordinary responsible citizens, one is even a recognized figure in Republican political life in my state. But after having worked with them in counseling a while, these four separate individuals decided to let down their hair a little further and tell me about contacts they had had from Star Visitors.

I was jolted by their accounts of contact, but having worked with them already for a while, had already determined that they were not crackpots. Nor did they have any motivation of personal gain from telling their story to me. For everything told to a professional psychologist is confidential. There would be no attention coming to them, nor did they seek any. They told me their experiences at some perceived personal risk. Each told me they were sure that after I heard what they had to say, that I would commit them to the state mental hospital. But I did not. As it turned out, I had the background to properly assess their accounts, not only s a psychologist, but as a person who had followed the UFO phenomenon for many years. You see, I was born before there was a UFO Cover-Up.

I was eight years old when I heard my parents talk about the newspaper report of a private pilot, sheriff’s deputy Kenneth Arnold, who had spotted a V-formation of round wingless craft flying near Mount Rainier, Washington State in June, 1947. Deputy Arnold dubbed them “flying saucers”, and the term stuck. Three weeks later, our daily paper and every paper in the country ,ran a front-page story that a flying saucer had been reported captured by the Army near Roswell, New Mexico. I remember thinking to myself, “Gee, that’s neat: there are other people in the universe and we’re not the only ones.”

And in 1952, I was in eighth grade and reading the daily paper for myself. There was no way I could miss the big scream headlines and photos that July reporting UFOs repeatedly flying over the U.S. Capitol night after night. And how the Army Air Corps sent up fighter planes who couldn’t catch up with them.

It was right after that, in 1953 that the government invented the UFO Cover-Up, and began having prominent scientists and Air Force Public Information Officers go before the press to deny and discredit UFO sighting reports. But it was too late. The seniors in our population still remember the truth from the good old days when the newspapers covered UFO sightings like any other valid news story, and had nothing to fear from the government for doing so.

The second stage in my involvement with this phenomenon came in 1977. At the time I lived in Woodacre, a tiny bucolic rural village in Marin County just north of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge. A neighbor buddy and I were hiking atop the hills above the village when I looked up and saw a shiny metallic disc slowly skittering across the sky. We were at about 600 feet altitude and the disc was about 2000 feet above us and over slightly to the southwest, tracking a northwesterly course. I noted the direction of the wind, which was coming out of the northwest. So, clearly what I saw was not a Mylar balloon, (because the disc was tracking upwind.) I called out to my hiking companion and pointed for him to look at the disc. I commented to him, “It looks like I’ve seen my first UFO.” It was not to be my last.

The third stage in my involvement with the Star Visitors occurred in 1992.

On April 12, 1992, I was proceeding west on Interstate 10 towards Deming, New Mexico in my Chevy Blazer. I had my CB radio on, listening to and talking with truckers along the way. At Deming, I turned off I-10 onto U.S. Hwy 180, heading northwest towards my destination for the night, a campground in Gila National Forest.

U.S. Hwy180 is a two-lane blacktop road that goes in an almost straight line for 53 miles between Deming and Silver City, through absolutely empty and featureless Sonoranscrub desert. It's mostly flat, with an occasional gentle rise, and this night had maybe three cars on it besides mine the entire length of the road.

When I left Interstate 10 at Deming, it was just after 11 p.m., on a cloudless and starry night in the pitch-black desert. As I pulled away from the Interstate, the CB audio traffic died out due to the distance. I was weary but alert enough to safely complete my drive to the campground. I estimated I would arrive by 12:30 a.m. As I settled in to this final leg of a long day's drive, I was aware that the road rose gently after about 15 miles. It was at about 11:20 p.m. I vaguely noticed a patch of bright whiteness shining in the moonlight on a rise over to the left, about 200 yards off the road. I remember vaguely considering it must be a patch of snow. (Later I realized that there could not have been snow at this lowest part of the southernmost region of the New Mexico desert.)

About this time I heard a loud voice, which I at first presumed came from my CB, saying in an Arkansas twang, "Watch out for the smoke!" At first I figured that some trucker ahead of me was warning anyone about a State Trooper (“Smokey [Bear]” in CB lingo) that he had spotted. So I got on the CB and asked "Where is the Smokey?" I was surprised when I got no answer. This is the only time in my experience that a CBer failed to provide location information to follow up on a State Trooper warning. Then I noticed that the voice had seemed to have come from behind me to my left. (Later, reflecting that my CB speaker was mounted below my dash in front of me slightly to the right, I realized the voice could not have been coming out of my CB radio.) The strangeness had only begun.

Almost at once I saw what looked like a huge luminous cloud of what looked like smoke stretched across the highway from the leftmost part of the rise to the rightmost part, and up to the sky, forming a solid curtain across the highway. I presumed that it was my bad luck to be running across smoke from a forest fire. So I went back on the CB to ask anyone out there, "Where's the fire? Does anyone know about the fire on US 180?" Again, the radio silence was spooky. No answer came from “Arkansas Twang” or anyone else. I started to broadcast again, then gave up lamely, since I was just about upon the presumed smoke cloud ahead stretched across the highway. . I cursed my luck, and in a few seconds calculated what a long detour I would have to drive if this fire blocked the highway, versus the risk of plowing through the smoke blindly, hoping it was just a hundred feet thick or so, so I could break through to the other side and complete my journey. I drove into the smoke, taking my foot off the gas to slow down in case I didn't pop through the other side quickly. I didn't. Not for an hour.

The smoke seemed to be coming off what I thought was a hillside to the left of me. I couldn't see the road, the center line or anything. So I came to a stop. (Later, in hypnotic recall, I noted that there were no trees or brush burning, no blackened or charred chaparral, and that the "smoke" had no odor! Nor was this fog, not in the Springtime sea-level bone-dry Sonoran desert with the air temperature nowhere near the dew point.) I sat defeated in my car, stopped in the right lane of U.S. 180 in the middle of nowhere. The greyish-white vapor did not dissipate. So I got out, walked across the road to the left shoulder, towards where the ground rose slightly up, disoriented in the cloud.

I got the impression that there were low scrub pinon pines spaced apart in the vapor. I stepped across a little ditch at the edge of the road and walked towards these "pinon pines," then stopped, unable to see ahead. (I presumed there were pinon pines there, but a friend who later re-drove that road told me there were none on that stretch.) Then I went into a state of paralysis. I could not move my body. I sensed the approach of two persons, who got on either side of me and each placed a firm grip on my forearms. I cannot recall actually viewing them. The funny thing about their hands was that theirs was a three-fingered grip. Their fingers were long and didn't feel like human fingers. They did not have articulated bones, but instead felt like there was continuous cartilage inside with a padded fleshy exterior. The grip consisted of two fingers on top of my forearm and one finger underneath. The fingers were not much wider than human ones but quite long. And their grip was like a vise. It was clear I was going with them. Frankly, I had no better idea, anyway.

I was led forward and to the left, in the general direction of what I had originally presumed was the "snow patch" gleaming in the moon-light. Soon we arrived at a landed metallic vehicle. I stopped about five feet in front of the midpoint of its long side. It was shaped like a flattened arch, with rounded ends. The bottom seemed more flat, but that may be because it was partially sunk into the sand. It was a metallic color, about the color of Airstream trailers, only not so bright. The length I would estimate at 35-50 feet and the height at midpoint at 10-12 feet.

A rectangular opening appeared in the side of the craft. Next thing I remember, (my memories are somewhat disjointed), I’m sitting back in a chair in a room inside the craft, feeling spacey and numb. I gradually realized that I was alone; they had left. The lighting in there was subdued. The air inside was of sort of a neutral temperature, not sharply cold like the desert night air. It smelled stale, like the recycled air you encounter in an airliner during a trans-continental flight.

After awhile they came back. The one who had the stronger grip when we met, the one on my right, felt like a male presence. As he came back in, I had a quick glimpse of his face. He had a roundish oval face with two large horizontally ovoid black eyes that did not slant or wrap around the side. No irises or pupils, just black all the way across the eye. I did not notice a nose, and got more of an impression than a view of a mouth. I did not clearly see, but got the impression of a thin torso and limbs. His height I would estimate at five feet. He seemed placid, sort of matter-of-fact. He was definitely not human, but unmistakably an intelligent life form. The other Star Visitor had had a gentler yet still firm grip on my left forearm when we encountered. The feeling was of a lighter, gentler persona, possibly a female.

I was escorted into another room, which was also dimly lit, and placed in a reclining position, something like the posture one has in a dentist's or astronaut's chair. I felt a buzzing, stimulating, resonating sensation in the triangular area defined by the tops of my eyebrows and the bridge of my nose, and focused about a quarter-inch inward from skin surface. (This is a sensation I would become quite familiar with in the days and months ahead. It has heralded and accompanied subsequent Star Visitor contacts.) I experienced a sense of pressure in my nose, as if a small object was being introduced into my nasal passages or even a little higher. (Afterwards for four or five days I had a sense of excessive pressure there, along with a feeling of light buzzing resonance and pressure in my head that was almost like a headache, but not quite.)

Next, I had a sensation of the release of restraints around my ankles. These restraints were not physical restraints, but more of an immaterial, force-field kind. I understood that the Star Visitors were done, and I was free to go. I got up. The next segment of the event I remember is being outside the craft in the night air floating horizontally towards my vehicle. After that I became aware of being behind the wheel, driving below the speed limit, the "vapor" dissipating, and I'm breaking out of the "smoke cloud" and resuming my drive northwest up U.S. 180. I continued my trip to the Gila National Forest campground, where I camped for the night.

When I woke up the next morning, I had no memory of my Close Encounter. But I did notice four odd things. I had a strange fullness and pressure feeling in my upper nasal passage area and a dull, almost headache-like symptoms I had never had before. I wrote it off to fatigue. As I put on my socks I also noted that there were two tiny scoop marks side-by-side on top of my right great toe, each like a shallow crater that you could rest the base of a BB in. I was startled, because I am no stranger to the body-marks literature of extraterrestrial encounters, which includes scoop marks from tissue sampling. But denial set in, and I said to myself, "Nah, that can't be that!" Then I reflected that I had arrived at the campground at least an hour after my estimated time; and on the open roads of New Mexico, where a minute can equal a mile, I had become quite precise at calculating traveling time.

Lastly, I noticed, with curiosity, that overnight my attitude towards extraterrestrials had changed. Gone was the gripping fear that I had felt since having just finished reading David Jacobs's lurid book of scarey disinformation, Secret Life. Instead, I noticed that a gentle live-and-let-live attitude had settled in. And I began feeling sorry for the Star Visitors, as I considered the monumental Star Wars weapons crash program aimed at them that I had seen on this trip around classified government installations in the Southwest. I also reflected on my own research into cases I had interviewed, where I found the Star Visitors to be usually caring, gentle while firm, and concerned for such values as ecology, social justice, child protection, childhood education, consciousness advancement, and a spiritual/metaphysical-focus. I noted that the experiencers of Star Visitor encounters stated that while some adult gynecological/urological procedures did seem oriented towards retrieving reproductive material, in many other instances medical and scientific procedures were oriented towards cures of diseases, genetic manipulation of ovaries or in-place fetus to create enhanced capabilities in the fetus ( future offspring) of the Experiencer, or the returning of a genetically-enhanced concept us to the mother for completion of childbearing and child-rearing. It struck me how exaggerated and distorted David Jacobs and Budd Hopkins were with their Grey Menace tales. Instead, I found it correct to think like an anthropologist: that what we have here is a contact between civilizations. I also felt dedicated to the goal that this Contact not end up like in the movie Cool Hand Luke, where the Cracker Prison Warden drawls: "What we have here is a failure to communicate."

So, a little suspicion began to curl inside my head, but I discounted it, saying to myself that the dramatic discoveries I had seen, (and was yet scheduled to view), were making me tend to over dramatize these anomalies.

It was only after I returned home from the entire trip, and experienced continuing nasal pressure, quasi-headaches and uncharacteristic moodiness and edginess persist for more five days, that I reviewed everything and realized that these, too, were common psychological aftermath signs of a Close Encounter experience which has been repressed from conscious memory.

At that point I made room in my mind for the possibility that I had had a close encounter of the fourth kind (with a Star Visitor.) I consulted a hypnotist-psychologist and a psychic remote-viewer to explore that strange part of my trip When the hypnotist had me smell the "smoke" and I then noticed that it had no odor, that was the final straw. I put that fact together with all the other signs common to persons who have had a close encounter, and my denial crumbled. Subsequent exploration with memory assistance sessions with a local professional using hypnosis resulted the emergence of recall of the other details which I have presented above.

In all my work with experiencers over the years since, I have noticed a pattern. The children born of experiencers tend to be extraordinary, very bright, quick to grow up, endowed with various psychic abilities, robust, good-looking, and cosmic-minded. These are the children I have come to call the Star Kids. I considered them startling, and charming. But it was not until about six years ago that this latest phase in my involvement with the Star Visitors began.

It happened when I was visiting my friend, Russ, in rural, sparsely-populated Modoc County, northeastern California. Russ had invited me up to give a weekend seminar on UFOs and the Star Visitors. While I was there, I stayed in Russ’s very large, hand-built wooden house. After the Saturday segment of the seminar was over, Russ came upstairs to my room to tell me something.( I had learned earlier that he had frequent visits from the Star Visitors). Russ told me that his Visitor contact had a message he wanted to be passed on to me: that I was to work with the Star Kids, and eventually set up a Star Kids School. Russ was to be of assistance.

I listened carefully. This was not the first message that I have received from the Star Visitors through a human courier. But I could tell that this was a particularly important one. I was to make the Star Kids a top-priority assignment. Since I have raised four children, and worked with hundreds of others as a counselor and a teacher, I have had a lifelong love of children. But these Star Children were extraordinary. I felt it a great privilege and an extremely-serious responsibility to undertake my assignment with these special children. I gladly accepted this task.

As I go about the United States and elsewhere working with Star Kids, their parents, and Star Seed adults, people ask me, “Are you a Star Seed, too?”

By way of an answer, let me do a bit of personal sharing. Late in 2003 I had occasion to talk to a close associate, certified hypnotherapist and psychic, Marian MacNeil, who assists me in working with the Star Kids. Marian has frequent visits from a Star Visitor who chooses to use the human name “Neuman”. This Visitor is an energy being, evolved past the need for a physical body. He temporarily uses the voice box of Marian to communicate with. During my contact with Marian, I asked Neuman about an encounter I had had at age 12 on the steps of the North Hollywood Post Office. Two men wearing raincoats (it was not raining) accosted me telepathically while I was ascending the Post Office steps.

The message I got from them was that they wanted me to come with them. Naturally, as a 12-year-old boy in 1951, knowing nothing of telepathy, I didn't realize what was happening: that their voices were heard only in my mind, without going through my ears. I was frightened by this confusing situation. I abandoned my bicycle on the steps, and ran from them into the Post Office. There I told the postal clerk that two men were trying to kidnap me. When I looked around through the glass entrance doors, the two men were gone. The clerk hadn’t taken me seriously, and no authorities had been summoned. So, I waited a long time, to be sure that they were gone, then ran to my abandoned bicycle, and pedaled as fast as I could home.

In response to my enquiry about this childhood episode, Star Visitor Neuman explained that these two had been Star Visitors from a planet which was dying, and that their people had become dispirited. These two men thought that if I came back with them, that this would somehow aid them by lending my intense emotional energy to them in some helpful way. But when I ran away from them, they realized that I was not going to be cooperating, and so they left.

Neuman also made it clear that this was not my first Star Visitor encounter. He said that my first encounter was in my mother’s womb, when I was just an embryo. The Star Visitors worked on my developing brain and notochord (primitive spine/neural trunk) to make certain modifications.

Neuman indicated also that over the more recent course of my life, the Star Visitors often make mental-merger contacts to provide information I would not otherwise have.

The Star Visitor also said that there is a beautiful future unfolding that is difficult for us to imagine: a beautiful place will emerge in time.

“Many now struggling will no longer need to struggle then.”

Neuman encouraged me to write another book, about the Star Kids. And that is what I have set forth to do, and gladly. Such writing was indeed a pleasure.

Richard Boylan, Ph.D.

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