A Dying Race

raceA Dying Race is the account of my life. Some of my abductions were traumatic and still haunt me to this day. I can only relay some of the message I received. I don’t know why I was selected, but I can guarantee you, we are not alone.

My story begins as a young Hispanic boy trying to overcome racism. I was born in 1971 and had some speech and learning disabilities.

My father fell in love with my mother when they first met in a small church in Frederick, Colorado. My mother was teaching Sunday school. My father was one of her students. He was twelve years old and she was seventeen. When my father told the story he would always say, “I told the other students that someday I’d marry her.”

On his fifteenth birthday, my father proposed to my mother, who was one of fourteen children in an abusive home. Money was always tight in our own large family, but there was plenty of love.

My epiphany came years later:

I replied, “It’s about thirty feet above your van.” It quickly shined a beam of light on the top of

the van, just for an instant, then quickly flew away. Our phones disconnected in the middle of all

the excitement so I quickly called him back.

“Did you see it shoot off?”

He replied, “What?”

I continued, “After our phones disconnected a beam of light came down on the top of the van.

Didn’t you see it?”

Writing this book has been therapeutic and an attempt to put this in my past so I can move on.