Several years ago, I received an account from Steve Ririe who at the time, was the Chairman of the Silent Heroes of the Cold War National Memorial Committee, and had lived in Las Vegas, NV for over 50 years. He had worked in various capacities in the U.S. Government and was referred to me by investigative journalist George Knapp. I examined Steve's credentials and believed him to be quite credible.
by Steve Ririe - What you are about to read is a little weird. Correction - it’s a lot weird. But, for whatever reason, I felt it was interesting enough to write down. Keep in mind, that there are first-hand stories, second-hand stories, and so on. This is a third-hand story with as little poetic license as necessary. I am confident I have recorded the details with a high degree of accuracy. It may get confusing but here we go.
What I know of this story came from my close friend Doug. I have known Doug for many years. He is a successful businessman and I would never question his integrity. Several months ago Doug came by my office and while we visited he related the details of a conversation he had with one of his long-time customers. To be honest, Doug and I both don’t know what to make of this strange conversation with his customer. His story may just be the raving of a schizophrenic. Although the credibility of the person who shared their first-hand account with Doug would make a diagnosis of schizophrenia difficult to imagine, that would at least make sense. But it’s an interesting story nonetheless. After writing it down I emailed the story to Doug for verification. He confirmed I had written the account down as accurately as he felt possible. With that introduction, here is what Doug told me:
I have this customer who sat down with me at my office and posed a very strange question. He asked, “Do you believe in UFOs?” I have only known him for a short time but I do know he was in the US Marine Corps and he has enough accolades and credentials that I would not question his integrity. He comes across as extremely reputable which makes his story both intriguing and bizarre.
To protect his identity, and since I do not have his permission to relate this story, I will refer to him as John.
I told John that I, of course, do believe some things have been seen flying and at the same time been unidentifiable. What I don’t know is what they were – since, of course, they are by their very nature - unidentifiable. That is as logical of a statement as I could have made. John appeared to have accepted my answer. He took it as an affirmative – which is to say that I do in fact believe in UFOs. Crossing that bridge, the strange story began to unroll out of John’s mouth. The following is the story told by John to my friend Doug.
The story John shared revolved around an elderly friend who lived close to him. I will call his elderly friend Tom. One day Tom asked John if, in fact, he believed in UFOs. John answered in the affirmative. Tom proceeded. He said he had something he wanted to show John. But first, before sharing his story, he must take John to a site in Las Vegas.
Once the evening had settled in and the sun had long disappeared behind the Red Rock Mountains the two of them drove to the corner of Tropicana and Decatur Blvd., just a few miles west of the Las Vegas Strip. This site is well known by long-time Vegas residents who live on the west side of the city. The name it is known by is “the Pitts”. Due to its strange and varied dirt mounds, it is favored by dirt bike enthusiasts. And although it is not far from the famous Las Vegas Strip it remained undeveloped due to several reasons. The first would be the cost of leveling the ground and the second would be its location being part of a major wash heading into Las Vegas. The City of Las Vegas has contended for years with flash floods and washes are not the best sites to develop.
When they arrived at the Pitts they pulled off into the desert and walked to a spot where Tom indicated they should stop. Tom began surveying the area with what John assumed was a metal detector. After some searching, he found a spot where the detector came alive. He placed a rock at that point. Then he went off in another direction until the detector sounded again. Another rock was placed at the second point. Again he repeated his search for a spot in the dark that would complete an equilateral triangle. Sure enough, the detector sounded at the exact spot. He placed a third rock. All the time searching and setting up the triangle Tom kept checking his watch.
With all three corners of the triangle revealed, he began to feel his way to the true center of the triangle. Judging his position relative to the three points of the triangle and feeling confident he was in position – he stepped aside and placed John dead center in the triangle. Tom stepped back staring at his watch and waited. “John,” he said. “In just a minute you will feel a pulse through your body. The points of the triangle are places where transmission pillars have been buried deep in the earth. In the center of these transmission pillars, where you now stand, is where the transmission waves will be generated. Where they are transmitting to I don’t know. But I do know these transmissions occur at regular intervals during the late night. And when they occur you can feel them. They are about to transmit any minute now.” They both remained quiet as they waited. Suddenly, just as Tom had described, John felt a sensation in the darkness.
John described a physical force like an electrical pulse rolling up his body from his toes to his head. It was as if a group of people were surrounding you with rolling pins and they were rolling them up your body from your toes to the top of your head. It didn’t last too long and just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. It was never made clear to John how Tom knew about these transmission events. He was only told that, for whatever reason, Tom had known about certain alien information for many years and was sworn to secrecy. With that experience under John’s belt, Tom felt confident that John was prepared for what Tom felt compelled to show him. The only reason Tom gave for showing John any of this was – “just in case”.
Next Tom took John on a drive outside of Las Vegas. They headed west on the Blue Diamond Hwy leading toward Pahrump, Nevada. The town of Blue Diamond is about 15 to 20 miles southwest of Las Vegas. At some point near Blue Diamond Tom drove off the highway and headed into the desert. Tom told him that what he was about to show him he needed to get off his chest. He had information about aliens among us and was sworn to secrecy. He had kept these secrets for as long as he could, which John assumed was many years. At Tom’s advanced age, he wanted someone else to know some of what he knew. The headlights bounced in front of their car illuminating the dirt road that led deeper into the desert. As cacti and sagebrush rushed passed them Tom confessed that by “spilling the beans” his life would be in danger. Regardless of the consequences for both of them, they drove on. Moments later they pulled up to a door in the middle of nowhere set into the side of a rocky bluff. This door, this location, this place, was what Tom wanted John to see. They only stayed a moment when Tom said, “We have to leave right now. They know we are here.”
As they drove away from the mysterious door suddenly lights appeared to them as headlights materialized virtually out of nowhere and began following them. Tom picked up speed. At several points, the lights tailed them no less than 3 feet off their back bumper. Jolts of anxiety, fear, and panic swept through both Tom and John. Without warning the lights went black. Tom craned his neck to look back. No lights or vehicles were visible – only darkness.
That was the last time John would see Tom. Days after this strange experience, John sought Tom out but was unable to find him. Tom’s home was empty and none of his neighbors knew where he went. None of them saw him leave. The neighbor across the street claimed to see men in white hazmat suits take all Tom’s belongings.
After several days, not being able to move past the strange events, John decided he would revisit the transmission site. Late one evening, while driving home from work, he made a detour to the Pitts. As he approached he anticipated pulling into the desert area where he and Tom had once parked. He discovered that he wouldn’t be able to pull off the road due to a dirt berm having been erected. He instead parked his truck on the shoulder of the road and got out. He made his way to the berm and climbed up. Instead of the dark vacant area he had visited days before, now before him was a lot of construction equipment and massive construction lights flooding the entire area. He climbed up the berm and, while resting on his stomach, looked over to see what all the commotion was about. No sooner had he begun looking when suddenly, as if on cue, flood lights all around the construction site turned and pointed their beams directly at his position. Not wanting to feel paranoid he quickly left the area and drove home. Later he learned the city had started construction on a flood retention basin and park at the site.
John still couldn’t shake the feelings left by this experience. Where was Tom? Considering what was going on at the transmission site, did any of it have to do with Tom? Eventually, he shared the experience with a couple of his friends. They, of course, were curious and wanted him to show them the door in the desert. After some coaxing, John agreed and they headed out. They took his friend's vehicle and John sat shotgun. At one point, as they were driving the dirt road, John began to feel nervous and admittedly scared. He considered telling his friend to take a wrong turn, acting as though he had forgotten the directions on how to get there. He knew had he acted as if he didn’t remember the location of the door he’d take a lot of heat from his friends. Instead of deflecting, he found himself drawn closer in the direction of the door. His own curiosity had gotten the best of him.
As they drove along they saw up ahead an old pickup truck that had pulled off alongside the dirt road. As they approached they could make out an extremely tall thin man leaning against the driver’s side door. His dress was casual and he sported a pair of dark sunglasses. They pulled up behind the truck and the tall man walked up to the driver’s window, bent down, and asked them what they were doing out there.
“We’re just driving around”, said the driver and they all gestured in the affirmative.
“Ya need to turn around,” he told them. “You’ve driven onto private property.”
“Who are you?” they said, pushing back with a little attitude, not willing to immediately comply.
“I’m the law out here,” he said, but he wore no uniform, nor did he flash a badge. The tall man offered no sign of authority. John’s friends were unimpressed.
The tall man straightened, paused, then slowly walked around the vehicle and lowered his head into the passenger’s window where John sat. John’s window was down. When he was face to face with John he raised his sunglasses and looked directly into his eyes. What John saw in the tall man’s eyes sent a shock throughout his entire body. Looking back at him were not the eyes of a man. The tall man’s eyes were more feline than human and he addressed John by his full name. “John Blank”, he said. “Consider this your warning. Do we have an understanding?”
John said, “Yes.” And with that, they drove away.
That is the extent of the story as told by John to my friend Doug. I don’t know anymore. I have lived in Las Vegas for over 50 years and have never seen a door in the desert. But there are parts of the desert around Blue Diamond that are not accessible to the public.
Doug has approached John since talking to me and asked if he would be willing to take us to the door. So far the answer is “no.”
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