You'd think that, after a life time of exploring my own UFO and anomalous experiences, as well as the experiences of others, I'd recognize the obvious. Which is, a pattern, a connection, between locations. For example:
I was thinking, for some unknown reason -- just my mind going back -- to my "giant eagle" experience. This happened when I was about four, maybe three, and in the house on Corning St. in Los Angeles. It's my first memory of something weird and powerful -- nope. (That happened even earlier, in another house a few blocks from the Corning St. house.)
The second memory, a year or so later, very different in many ways: what was seen, as well as what I felt. But, it also happened in the house on Corning St. In the first Corning St. experience, I felt incredible awe and joy, no fear. The second, I felt fear and anger.
Before those two experiences, were two odd experiences in the house we lived in before Corning St. One memory: a giant metal cylinder type of thing, coming towards me at night, while I was in bed, frightened. Strange ribbon like things, like colorful tendrils, waved out at me as this thing floated towards me.
The second memory, looking outside my bedroom window at night, because I heard Santa's reindeer bells on the roof. Except, it wasn't December. And in both memories, I remember me being on the second floor, where my bedroom was. Of course -- yes you guessed it -- there was no second floor.
In later years, I assumed my cylinder memory was of a heater in the bedroom. But my mother insisted, when I told her of this experience, that there was no heater or object of any kind she could think of in that room.
In our third house (again, just a block or two from the other homes) more experiences. One, dancing with my friends -- the invisible aliens. I didn't call them aliens at the time, but I knew they weren't human. For one thing, they didn't look human. About my size (four feet or so) transparent, spindly things. The other experience: many times, floating out through the doors and walls, assisted by these same invisible beings, where'd I wait outside, at night, for "them" to come and take me on up. (Oh, and then there is the parallel experience of the "fuzzy puppet wolves" where my husband had a similar childhood experience.) One more: when my mother, excited, called out to us because she was witnessing a UFO in the sky. No one believed her, except me. Disappointed the UFO zipped off, my mother was watching, hoping it would return. I told her (she insisted I said this, I don't remember) not to worry, it will come back, for "they always come back," I said.
Eight very different memories, in three locations. As different as these memories are, they share a nagging feeling that somehow, as bizarre as they may seem, they are connected.