“I couldn't believe my eyes. The place where the house had just stood now turned out to be overgrown with only grass and weeds! And the building closest to me was at least a quarter of a mile away and looks like a big red barn!"
“Once, when I was twelve years old,” says Victor Farrell, “I decided to hitchhike to the outskirts of a neighboring village. Actually, I went there more than once to pick apples for myself. The owner's garden is vast, and the house was quite far from the road, so I felt relatively safe while enjoying the apples.
That day, however, I was somehow unlucky right away. I walked further and further along the highway, trying to stop some passing car, but in vain. So I got to the place where the dirt road left the highway. From the fork I could see the smoke coming out of the chimney, and I thought that maybe there is some kind of village shop or something like that. In a word, I decided to go and take a look.
The buildings were much further away than I thought. However, I continued on my way past the farm fields, not paying much attention to the time, until I reached a fenced yard with an open gate. The sun was beating down, I was sweating, my legs were tired. And I decided to sit on the grass with my back on the fence.
But first I looked around. Not a soul in sight. I went to the fence and was about to sit down when I noticed a shotgun lying in the grass near the open gate. And I reached out to him with my hand …
But before I had time to touch him, in front of me - out of nowhere - a huge uncle with a bulldog face, black hair and some kind of incomprehensible grin: he bent down, picked up his weapon and calmly moved to the huge old rural a brown-colored house, about fifty feet from the fence.
“Where did he come from?” I wondered, feeling embarrassed and a little guilty, - after all, I was caught trying to take someone else's weapon. However, I still decided to rest, leaning my back against the fence. Relaxing, I remained there for twenty minutes. Looking at the road, I thought that the house, from the chimney of which the smoke was rising, did not seem to get closer. Yes, and I'm already hungry. “God be with him,” I muttered, getting to my feet. "I think I'd better go home."
Passing the gate to the courtyard, I looked over the fence to where I expected to see the house. He wasn't there!
I couldn't believe my eyes. The place where the house had just stood now turned out to be overgrown with only grass and weeds! And the building closest to me was at least a quarter of a mile away and looks like a big red barn!
I looked over to where I saw the weapon. The trace of it - the imprint - was still there. “Where has the house gone? I asked aloud. - And where did the person who entered it come from? However, where did he enter if he is not at home?"
Heading back to the highway, I looked around repeatedly to look again and again at the place where the house had just stood. But he never reappeared. Not even that hefty guy with a bulldog face and an eccentric grin was visible …
RUSSIAN OPTION
This is how this incredible case was described in several Russian sources.
It was near St. Petersburg (not far from the Sosnovo station) in the summer of 1993. Together with two colleagues from the design bureau, Alexey Ivanovich Volzhanin went fishing - in an old Moskvich. The road from St. Petersburg to the Karelian Isthmus takes only a few hours, especially since the route has long been worked out in detail. But this time everything went awry. Friends were already driving up to the cherished place when a thunderstorm broke out - with thunder and lightning. One of the flashes blazed so close and strong that Volzhanin, who was driving, went blind for a moment. The car plunged off the highway and hit a thick century-old pine tree with its right rear door.
True, Volzhanin himself (an experienced driver, by the way) later claimed that he left the road not because of lightning, but because a silhouette of some monster appeared in front of the hood of the car - a shaggy monster with burning eyes.
So, there was an accident … Volzhanin and Sigalev, sitting in front, got off with a slight fright, but design engineer Semyon Yakovlevich Elbman was seriously injured - fragments of the side glass cut his skin on his forehead. In addition, apparently, he also received a concussion, because when his friends pulled him out of the car, he could not stand on his limp legs.
What was to be done? The nearest station is several tens of kilometers away. With a wounded comrade, it is not easy to defeat them. And here, as luck would have it, not a single car on the highway. It is good that Sigalev noticed a light nearby - it was the window of a small house that was rising on stilts over a small stream. Leaving the car, the friends grabbed Elbman under the arms and took him to the hut. “Hut, hut, stand in front of me, back to the forest,” joked Volzhanin.
We went up the slippery steps of the high porch. An old woman opened the door at a knock. Well, sheer Baba Yaga from a fairy tale. Without asking about anything, without saying anything, she retreated, letting the wet fishermen into the house.
- It is now, in hindsight, I understand that everything in that story is a pile of absurdities, - Volzhanin admits. - Where did the house come from where we have never seen it, although we know those places "inside and out"? But at that moment we were like bewitched - we were not surprised at anything. A hut on chicken legs? Very handy! A candle on a table in an antique candlestick? So, maybe the electricity went out from the thunderstorm! A strange hostess who didn't say a word during the whole meeting? Or maybe she is dumb!.. The
woman fed the poor fellows with hot soup, washed Elbman's wound with some kind of broth, ate a compress on his forehead … Tired, they lay down on the blankets laid on the floor and fell fast asleep. And in the morning we woke up in the open air!
“It was like an obsession,” friends say. - The hospitable home has disappeared. Instead, there were half-collapsed walls made of granite boulders. We carefully examined these ruins with empty openings instead of doors and windows - no signs of life … Apparently, it was an old water mill left in these places since the Finnish war. But where did the house in which we spent the night disappear? They did not transfer us sleepy ones to a new place? And there are no houses there. Later we checked this - no housing j around. And one more oddity - in the morning it turned out that only a thin brown stripe remained from the wound on Semyon Yakovlevich's forehead, and even that soon turned pale and disappeared.
ISLAND OF "HIDDEN"
On the island of Iceland, out of 300 thousand of the population, 54% do not doubt that all kinds of mysterious invisible people live next to them. Someone sees them, someone does not, but for the Icelanders they are quite real neighbors, whose help you can always count on.
One of those who not only believed, but also saw, was, oddly enough, T. Emilsson, the founder of the Icelandic Communist Party. In his autobiography, he tells how, at the age of 14, he was saved by a young girl from … another dimension. And it was so.
The boy was sent to drive the sheep from a distant pasture, and there he climbed into a crevice to save the lamb. He saved the lamb, but he himself was hopelessly stuck. What should I do? It goes to night, and the nearest housing is many kilometers away. If they go looking for the guy, then maybe in the morning. In a word, he already resigned himself to the fact that he would have to spend the night in darkness and terrible cold. And then suddenly a girl's face appeared over the edge of the cliff. And soon Emilsson himself was somehow miraculously upstairs, completely safe.
- Where are you from? - he asked the savior in surprise.
“From the Litenshtammer farm,” the girl said and gestured at a typical Icelandic house that stood a few hundred meters away.
“But… I've been walking these mountains all my life,” Emilsson muttered in confusion, “and I've never seen this farm before!
Promotional video:
“And you couldn't see her,” the girl laughed. I am what you call the 'hidden people'. '
We are from another world, parallel to yours.
And while young Emilsson was staring at her, unable to find the right words, a man's voice came from the direction of the farm: "Katerina!"
- I have to go, - she immediately reacted and began to quickly climb the hill.
- Can I see you again? he shouted after.
- May be…
But no, the meeting was not destined to take place. And although Emilsson came to these places until the end of his life; their days (and he died in 1986), he never saw a girl or a farm there again …
Another amazing story was told by Torlakur Steffansson. Once he got lost in the forest. It was in 1936 in North Iceland - the place is called Skagfjordur. The unfortunate man wandered through the forest for many hours and was terribly cold. When he was already completely exhausted, he suddenly saw a light behind the trees and, of course, rushed in that direction. It turned out there was a farmhouse there. Torlakur knocked on the door and was admitted. He asked the name of the farm, he was answered - Heggstatir. He was surprised - he had never heard of such a thing. Maybe he has already wandered off somewhere outside Skagfjordur?
- No, the farmers answered, - you are still in Skagfjordur, but we are one of those who are called "hidden". We are always here, only you do not always see us.
Torlakur, of course, was worried - but how will he forever remain in a foreign world? But nothing like that happened. The traveler was fed, his clothes dried, and left to spend the night. And the next morning, when he woke up, the sky had already cleared and through the window of the farm he could see where he was: it turned out, not too far from his home in Skagfjordur!
After breakfast, he hit the road, periodically looking around to wave his hand goodbye and remember the place where the farm that sheltered him stands. After walking about three hundred meters, I looked around again. The house … disappeared!
Torlakur could not believe his eyes. He decided to go back and walk back to the farm, following his own tracks in the snow. Imagine his surprise when his footprints suddenly broke off, and the farm never appeared! By the way, in all his subsequent life, Torlakur never saw that house again …
HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS?
“It seems that we are just scratching the surface of some very capacious phenomenon,” says the Icelandic collector of such stories Magnus Skarfedinsson from the capital Reykjavik. - His eyewitnesses will look you in the eye and tell you with full conviction what they saw. They will tell you in detail where it was, draw a diagram and repeat the story over and over again.
For 25 years of his exploration, Magnus has combed the entire island, recording eyewitness accounts. And all this time he is trying to find out how the "hidden" people live in their parallel world.
He has already found more than 700 eyewitnesses, of whom 200 claim that they communicated, spoke with the "hidden", and about 40 more people are those who | [even managed to establish friendly relations with these "otherworldly" (literally, breezy!) creatures. And what is curious: more than half of the population believes these stories. But this is not some downtrodden redneck, not drunkards and not drug addicts: 99.9% of Iceland's population are literate people, 82% are "computerized". After all, eyewitnesses themselves are looking for someone who would believe them, who would help to comprehend and understand what happened. Parallel worlds in Iceland are considered, and if rumor says that in some place they manifest themselves, then they will not build anything there - all the same, things will go awry. And whatever underlies the phenomenon of the "hidden" - human imagination or metaphysics,one thing is certain: the Icelanders do not doubt their existence and, according to the firm conviction of Magnus Skarfedinsson, they only benefited from this neighborhood, because they learned to take care of everything that surrounds them. Ever since the days of the Vikings! they personified nature not as an evil hostile force, but as a helper and savior. And the "hidden" ones are also part of nature, part of the surrounding world.
And yet, how to explain the mysterious disappearance (or appearance) of such a large object as a house, a building?
Here you need to immediately say that this is one of those topics about which people desperately argue. Because it is difficult for a sober-minded person to imagine such events and even more so to believe that a house can dematerialize and reappear. Fantasy, the skeptic will say, is a play of imagination, fiction.
But there is another point of view, according to which a person, for various reasons, can fall into a trance and see the invisible. This happens, for example, under the influence of a monotonous road, or because of the uniform noise of rain, or from a sudden flash of lightning. Experiments show that the sensations of a person during a trance in their brightness and realism practically do not differ from the true ones. The deceived senses, driven by the fantasies of the brain, give out such detailed pictures that later it is almost impossible to distinguish them from real memories.
And some scientists believe that, for example, quantum teleportation can be triggered - an instant transfer of an object in time and space. Or that next to us there really are so-called "parallel worlds": and sometimes they come into contact with ours. Portals, or passages between the worlds, open under some special conditions, for example, during powerful energy emissions. So the same lightning could well serve as a "key" to the door to another world. We do not know anything about them, but it is important for us to understand this.
The land for us and for them is one and the same, the ecology is the same. And even if they still live there almost in the Middle Ages, as they say about the Icelandic "hidden", we: they still "get it", because the harm that we inflict on nature is reflected in them. It turns out that by and large the world is one and we are responsible for everything and for everyone …
Vladimir GRISCHENKOV
"UFO"