MONTAUK PROJECT REPORT--Part 5

MONTAUK AIR FORCE STATION
==
ACTIVE OR NOT?


 

All material copyright (c) 1997
John A. Quinn
NewsHawk INC
All rights reserved


POSTSCRIPT -- PERSONAL NOTES (continued)

I also did some investigation into the "Montauk Tower" building in
the village of Montauk, said by Nichols and other investigators to be
used in Montauk Project activities and to be connected via underground
tunnels to other clandestine facilities in the area.
I went to the location with my wife (and child) and instantly
found some peculiarities. We went into the lobby of the building, which
has ostensibly been converted to condominium apartments, and copied down
some of the names off the intercom. I was struck by the fact that there
were no mailboxes anywhere in, on or around the building for "residents"
to receive their mail, which is certainly quite strange. We tried
buzzing a few of the bells to gain entry, but there was no response.
While snooping about the building, we also noticed that there was a
separate entrance apparently leading to the basement of building, which
was thoroughly locked.

For a building which supposedly had at least 40
units in it, there were very few cars in the parking lot, as has been
the case every time I've ever looked in the lot while in the area.
Upon leaving the building we encountered a Suffolk County
Water Authority meter reader, who asked us if we lived there. We replied
negatively, saying we were calling on a friend who wasn't home. The
fellow told us that the building presented a constant problem as the
water meter was not accessible to him; he had never been able to read
the meter, and was never able to raise anyone inside the building to let
him in! This from an employee of the county government!
Astonished, my wife subsequently contacted the Suffolk County
Water Authority, asking them what they were doing about this very
bizarre situation. As my mother is a resident of the area who pays water
bills, I was rather disturbed and puzzled on this issue alone; no
matter who (or what) was occupying the Montauk Tower, they didn't have
to pay for their water! The response from county personnel was a
masterpiece of fuzzy, meaningless mush that said nothing at all. They
tried repeatedly to deflect our questioning about the ownership of the
building, etc., saying that was confidential information. They stated
that they do receive payment for water usage at the location, but would
not indicate from whom, nor how any such bill can be paid if the amount
owed cannot be determined. I believe that county personnel deliberately
obfuscated the truth about this matter.


My wife and I looked up the names we got off the intercom at
the Montauk Tower, but could only find several of them listed. Also,
most of these had no address listed, only P.O. boxes. We called the
numbers we found and got an answer at just one. The woman who answered
said that she was the manager of the building, and mentioned that her
husband ran a restaurant in Montauk village. We said that I had just
moved back to the area with my family and were looking for a residence
to buy. We inquired whether any of the units were for sale, as we liked
the downtown location. The woman gave us the name of one of the
residents who was selling their condo on the third floor, as they had
moved to another dwelling.


Later, checking the local real estate listings, we did find a
two other condos listed for sale, one by the owner, the other by a real
estate agency in Montauk. As it turned out the privately advertised
condo was being handled by the same agency as the other listed unit, so
we had an agent at that office show us the two units. One was on the
first floor and one was on the sixth floor. There is a so called
penthouse unit above the sixth floor which we were repeatedly told had
recently been purchased by an elderly woman. (This was where Preston
Nichols was taken to meet with numerous Air Force officials in August
1995. No elderly woman was part of that event.)
The first floor apartment was basically a long, rather narrow
unit with only one large window facing south. There were no other
windows, and the overall effect was quite claustrophobia-inducing. Why
this agent would continually state that it was just right for us, with a
two year old child, is beyond me.


She then took us up to the sixth floor unit and here's where
things really got odd. Both my wife and I (and maybe our little boy
too!) were thoroughly disoriented upon exiting the elevator on the sixth
floor. The entire layout was completely different than the first floor;
the walls and hallways were at very odd angles to the elevator entrance;
everything seemed out of kilter. The apartment, though not as confining
as the other, was laid out in a very strange way. One of the "bedrooms"
was little more than a closet and part of it was cut off by an angled,
sloping wall which severely restricted the space. The real estate agent
told us it was because of some stairway which led to the penthouse,
although there was no indication of any such stairway outside the
apartment.


The agent kept telling us how good either unit would be for
us, an obvious absurdity. When leaving this apartment we were again very
puzzled by the layout of the sixth floor and couldn't really figure out
what was where in relation to the main (external) structure of the
building. It definitely seemed as though there was a substantial amount
of space unaccounted for on this floor. We made a point to ask the real
estate agent what was in the basement of building and whether it was
accessible to the occupants. We received no clear reply.
We then contacted the party who was selling the third floor
apartment and made an appointment to see it. Although the layout of the
third floor was different than that of the other two floors we had seen
it was not bizarre or disorienting. The fellow was quite friendly and
seemed, as did the real estate agent, quite sure that the place was just
right for us and that we would really like to live there. We asked him
about the basement, about what was down there and so forth and once
again received no clear answer.


Several days later, while videotaping the outside of the tower
building, my wife and I both saw a face appear in a window adjacent to
the sixth floor hallway in front of the elevator, which should have been
the small bedroom we had just recently seen, yet there was no such
window in the bedroom! We could easily figure this out by counting the
number of windows visible from the outside and comparing it to the
windows in the apartment! There is no doubt of this fact, and this
proves that there is "hidden space" in this building.


There is another thing worth mentioning about this building. A
year later in April 1996 I decided to rustle through the building's
garbage dumpster to see what might turn up. There was virtually no
typical household refuse. The dumpster was mostly filled with cardboard
boxes and other shipping and packing materials, and the remnants of a
number of takeout meals. Of particular interest was a good sized
shipping carton addressed to a Ceil Roth, which is the name of the Air
Force colonel who met with Preston Nichols in the penthouse unit during
August 1995. This box was sent from an underwater construction
corporation based in San Diego California.
A final note -- the roof of this building is literally a
good-sized antenna farm, bristling with an astonishing number of
antennae of all shapes and sizes, and I'm not talking about TV antennae
or ordinary satellite dishes.



It's also worthy of mention that upon my return to my
California residence after the 1995 trip, and continuing to this day, I
began receiving numerous bizarre phone calls, sometimes several a day,
in which there is nothing but "dead air" on the other end. This went on
even after we had our number changed to an unlisted number.

There is one other peculiar incident in my past I can call to
mind concerning this location.


My father worked in NYC journalism for many years, and during
most of the 1970s was feature editor for The NY Daily News. Some time in
the mid-1970s before I moved to California, my family went to East
Hampton for the weekend. I would have been about 20-22 years old. We
lived at that time mainly in Queens, but spent much time on eastern Long
Island. My father had mentioned to me before we arrived in East Hampton
that he really wanted me to accompany him and a colleague, Pat O'Haire,
the next morning (Saturday) to visit some fellow living in Ditch Plains
( a neighborhood roughly halfway between Montauk village and Camp Hero
on the Atlantic shore), whom they were apparently going to interview, I
guess for The Daily News. I was never totally clear on the reason they
were visiting him, let alone why it was so imperative that I go along!
My dad seemed to think this was a really interesting and fascinating
person with some very newsworthy information to impart. He stressed
several times that he really wanted me to go with them.


The next morning my father again reiterated how much he wanted
me to accompany him and Pat O'Haire (who lived (lives) in Montauk), and
after a call from my dad Ms. O'Haire drove from Montauk to pick us up
and bring us to this man's place in Ditch Plains. It was a rather
wintery and gloomy day I recall.
Upon arriving at this man's "house" I was immediately struck
by its uncharacteristically (for Montauk and East Hampton Township) drab
and plain appearance, and its somewhat unusual cement construction. As
best I can recall this man had a Germanic name. Inside, this rather
elderly (maybe 55-60), ex-military seeming man quickly engaged my father
and Pat in a fairly animated conversation in which he basically
pilloried the federal income tax system and the IRS. Now it doesn't take
a genius to figure that is a subject on which you are going to get a
definite and strong response from virtually anybody -- there aren't too
many people, especially among the middle class, who wouldn't get on
board that train pretty quickly (the anti-IRS express). I was
half-listening, but not too involved. I picked up something about this
man I didn't like, I couldn't figure out yet why it was so important for
me to go along, and I was feeling a bit bored and uncomfortable.


They went into a little study or office and I started looking
around this fellow's living room, whereupon I saw at least a few
publications of radical (and racist) right wing groups, indicating this
man's politics were diametrically opposed certainly to mine and pretty
much to my father's also.


The whole point of us -- especially me --being there escaped
me, and I found the literature in the living room very upsetting,
disturbing and distasteful. There was something very weird about the
house too. It just didn't feel like a house. Most home construction in
that area is wood frame, with certain exceptions -- especially in newer
construction. This was definitely not new, yet obviously not very old as
it was cement and cinder block. It was also pretty small, one story and
basically very square, with the interior divided into a living room, the
study, a kitchen and bedroom in the rear which I never saw, and what
looked like a small closet.


After milling around outside for few minutes, where I was
again struck by the rather peculiar architectural style of the building,
in a part of the country where such things are often commented on and
talked about (sometimes to a very tedious degree), I went back in and
started making major eye signals at my dad to get the hell out of there.
I was really feeling bent out of shape, had nothing in common with this
person, couldn't imagine why anyone wanted me to come there, found his
politics very disturbing, and I wanted to GO!


My dad responded to me and the three of them came out of the
study into the living room, at which point, out of politeness, I made
some brief small talk with the man we were visiting. Mainly, I was very
curious about his house and said so. I said I thought it was rather
unusual, I couldn't place the period or style of construction, that it
didn't really feel or look like a house built for a family, etc. I can't
recall exactly how he responded, but he pointed out the other rooms
toward the rear. At that point I either asked him about the small
rectangular protrusion right next to me which seemed to be a closet, or
else he pointed it out. I recall him opening the door, and saying that
it actually was a stairway that went to the basement.


At this point something strange happened but I can't
completely remember what. I'm certain he said something about the
basement that was very strange, very unusual, that just seemed really
odd -- but my memory fails me here. Now what could be strange about a
basement? Well, it must be different in some way from what one would
expect: either more or less somehow than what a basement would normally
be. My strong feeling is that he said the basement was in fact connected
to or part of a tunnel system. I can't find in my mind any clear and
solid memory of what occurred immediately after he pointed out the
stairway.


The rest of my memories of this event are nil. Later in the
day we got driven back to East Hampton and it was quite late. I was also
feeling pretty low and depressed.
It seems that we definitely arrived back home later than one
would expect, as we went out to Ditch Plains certainly before noon, and
I remember quite well how I couldn't handle being there at all. I think
it was at most about forty-five minutes to an hour until I started
signalling my dad to leave.


I've looked for this location more than a few times in recent
years, and just couldn't find it. I am certain that we went to the Ditch
Plains area, but I found nothing there that looked similar. Finally,
when I was visiting my family again in April of 1996, I had a
breakthrough. There was an article in the local paper about a tract of
land in Montauk known as Shadmoor, which was being bought by the federal
government from the owner/developer who had been refused permission to
develop the land for at least ten years.


The article went on to say that this property was originally
an extension of Camp Hero, and that the only remaining structures on it
were two military buildings, actually machine-gun nests, built to look
like private residences. This area was bought by a developer but the
Town of East Hampton (the hamlet of Montauk is within East Hampton
Township) refused to allow him to build on the property, almost
certainly due to pressure from certain federal agencies, and now the
Federal government was buying the land outright and designating it a
Nature Preserve, forever "safe" from any development or other private
use.

This story really piqued my interest, as it was about the only
stretch of coastline I hadn't yet checked in my efforts to ascertain
where the house we had visited some 20 years ago actually was.
I went to Shadmoor, which is directly west of the Ditch Plains
public bathhouse and parking lot, and found there what very much
appeared to be the filled-in and subsequently partly caved-in
foundations/basements of three structures which were no longer standing.
Without doubt, this was the area where the man we had visited lived, but
the "houses" were now gone. Obviously, it was not a real house this man
had lived in as I had correctly intuited at the time, but was some kind
of military building. As this entire property was actually part of Camp
Hero it's now known that it was connected to the main base via tunnels.


Given the time frame of our visit, this man was undoubtedly engaged in
some kind of activity connected to the Montauk Project which had then
recently gotten in full swing. Apparently, I was part of that activity,
that day. I may never be able to find out too much more as my father
died nine years ago, and his former colleague Pat O'Haire has not
returned my calls. I have the racial and genetic background which has
apparently proved desirable to the operators of the Montauk/Phoenix Project(s)
-- blue-eyed and light haired, with lots of German blood on both sides,
and Celtic (Irish) on my father's side.


As I'm most certainly not a scientist, quantum or particle
physicist, radio-electronics genius, ex-military-intelligence operative,
or anything remotely like any of those, the question would be -- for
what purpose could I possibly have been inducted (or is that abducted?)
into the Montauk Project? Given that probably tens of thousands of
youngsters of varying ages have been and are being (usually unwittingly)
conscripted for "use" in virtually all phases and aspects of this
Project and numerous other clandestine projects (I'd think from
dishwashers and sanitation workers to particle physicists and everything
in between -- the Montauk underground is in fact an underground city),
there may be no way to say for certain how I may have been used.

As there is such severe psychological and spiritual manipulation and abuse
involved in the programming of conscripted victims, in addition to
deliberate memory-tampering and other mind-wiping procedures, there may
be no way to say for certain if I was so used at all.


It's conceivable and I think likely that inductees are scanned
and evaluated for any particular abilities which they possess and are
shunted accordingly into corresponding functions at the Montauk base. If
that were to be the case, then very likely my talents, skills and
abilities would probably be strongest in two fields: writing and music
composition, and perhaps these talents (or others) were taken advantage
of and utilized by Project administrators. I also think I might possess
a bit of so-called "psychic" ability -- maybe more than I'm aware of.


According to Preston Nichols, popular music has been used extensively by
the operators of the Montauk Project as a tool for influencing the
"collective unconscious" if you will; in particular that of the younger
generation. Nichols states that state-of-the-art recording facilities and
psycho-acoustic techniques were utilized to "insert" subliminal
programming into popular music which can trigger certain responses and
changes in awareness; also that time-travel technology enabled this to
be implemented both in the past as well as the present (and presumably
the future too). Music was and is considered a very powerful and
effective way to access the deeper emotional and instinctual levels of
consciousness, and contemporary popular music has been thoroughly
infiltrated by intelligence agencies, secret societies and (secret)
governments to that end. Such infiltration and subversion of other forms of
communication and entertainment including television networks, the
motion picture industry and the news media in general has been explored
and documented, but I guess it's a bit of a shock for personal reasons
to realize that contemporary music has not escaped such a fate. Mr.
Nichols has further stated as well that, once again, the Mafia has
worked and is working hand in glove with intelligence agencies in such
operations involving mass communications.



All text within this document
is the sole property of the owner
and copyright holder -- John A. Quinn.
Reproduction by Permission only.
Copyright (c) 1997
John A. Quinn
84 Sherrill Rd.
East Hampton, New York 11937
all rights reserved

Montauk Project Report Part 1
http://www.apfn.org/apfn/montauk.htm
Montauk Project Report Part 2
http://www.apfn.org/apfn/montauk2.htm
Montauk Project Report Part 3
http://www.apfn.org/apfn/montauk3.htm
Montauk Project Report Part 4
http://www.apfn.org/apfn/montauk4.htm

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