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In July of 1947, in Roswell, New Mexico, there was a crash landing of my ship.  My parents were both killed, but I survived and was brought to my new home on Walnut street in Roswell.  My earth mother and father are buried there.  My brother was taken to France.  He grew up quite differently and adapted to the mechanical world of transformers.


I have acclimated and humanized to the extent that my characteristics are mostly humanoid.  In 1968, I moved to Texas because the dust in Roswell irritated many of my working parts.  The humidity in south Texas has kept me young and somewhat flexible.  During this time, I taught Alien Math to hundreds of high school students.


I am still awaiting another ship from my constellation to pick me up, but I think this human body has time limitations. . . . . .

Here are some of the accountings of my controversial landing and existence:

Incident   Watching for the Ship

  Here are some of my Friends. . . .