The Abductions of Mrs. Landry
We arrived in Brookings mid-morning after driving nearly six hours from La Pine. The drive took us southwest across the Cascades and along the coastal route. The night before, we’d decided to split the vehicles up to give everyone a chance to rotate seating. Professor rode with me this time—spent most of the trip alternating between napping and offering unsolicited trivia about Oregon’s coastal radio stations.
Mrs. Landry, our primary subject today, lives alone in a modest one-story home outside of town. A retired school librarian, she’s in her early seventies and had reached out to Professor by letter two months prior. Her claim: she has been experiencing alien abductions since childhood. What drew the Professor’s interest—and consequently ours—was the consistency of her accounts, especially when compared against other long-term abduction cases he’s compiled over the years.
When we arrived, Mrs. Landry was waiting on the porch in a thick wool sweater despite the mild coastal weather. Jennifer, Donna, and I entered first while the rest of the group set up in the van to monitor the audio and video feeds. Mrs. Landry had agreed to let us record her, and she seemed far less guarded than many of the people we’ve interviewed so far.
What followed was a three-hour conversation broken into two parts. During the first, she walked us through her earliest memory—age six, waking up in a pasture behind her family’s home, staring into a pale blue light that vanished as soon as she blinked. She described missing time episodes during her adolescence and a pattern of nosebleeds and circular bruises on her arms and legs that doctors never could explain.
The second part of the conversation turned to her adult experiences. She spoke about waking up paralyzed in her bed, seeing three small humanoids standing at the footboard, and a sensation of being “floated” out through her closed bedroom window. She became emotional when recounting an episode from the early 1970s where she believed she was taken aboard a craft. She described an examination table, instruments without wires or cords, and a single figure with disproportionately large black eyes who communicated with her without speaking.
Professor, who joined the latter part of the session, asked her specific follow-up questions about auditory perceptions, temperature shifts, and physiological symptoms post-encounter. She answered all with calm clarity—no signs of embellishment or fantasy.
Robin checked for any elevated EMF readings inside and around the house afterward—nothing unusual. Vernon took hair and soil samples from the backyard, and Jennifer took several photos of the property and tree line where Mrs. Landry claims to have “reappeared” after two missing time episodes in 1982 and 1993.
Back at the motel later, we reviewed the interview tape. Caleb remarked that it mirrored Hopi and Lakota ancestral visitor stories, especially the concept of being chosen from youth and observed throughout life. Mathew, on the other hand, was less convinced—he pointed out the absence of physical evidence and emphasized memory distortion common in sleep paralysis. Donna countered by referencing a few clinical parallels from trauma studies. The debate ended when Professor walked in with a pizza and claimed all theories were temporarily invalid until sustenance was restored.
We’ll be taking a day off tomorrow to catalog our notes and recalibrate gear. The next lead is on the outskirts of Klamath Falls—something about strange animal behavior near a man-made reservoir. Vernon’s already theorizing water contamination. Josh suspects something older.
Miles driven since last post: 287
