Gary Stollman Copyright (C) 1991 446 Conradi St. Apt. A328 Gary Stollman Tallahassee, Fl.

---
Master Index Current Directory Index Go to SkepticTank Go to Human Rights activist Keith Henson Go to Scientology cult

Skeptic Tank!

Gary Stollman Copyright (C) 1991 446 Conradi St. Apt. A328 Gary Stollman Tallahassee, Fl. 32304 The Invasion of the Human Race by Gary Stollman I never planned out my life to wind up on the set of KNBC in Los Angeles LIVE, standing behind TV consumer advocate David Horowitz holding a toy gun to his head, demanding that he read a statement about how space aliens and the CIA had replaced my father and family with clones. I had only planned on becoming a computer programmer and a good citizen. At least that was before I discovered I had somehow stumbled onto a vast plot to overthrow the human race. I realize the implications of what I am about to say and how impossible it may be to believe, but the truth is that unless something is done and quite soon, the human race as a species will cease to exist! Naturally, I didn't get this idea overnight. Actually it took quite a few years for me to realize exactly what was going on. By that time, I had been through so much brutal assault on my senses, I didn't quite know what to make of it all. However, as it gradually became all too obvious, I became terrified, and vowed that I would take some action to try to halt or at least impede the apparent problem. The end result of this was my jumping onto the set at the NBC studio in LA, in a last-ditch hope of scaring them so bad they would go back to wherever they came from. I think I should preview you from the beginning, when I first discovered that something was rotten in Dixie. In the summer of 1981, I was in my new home, Tallahassee, Florida, preparing to enter Tallahassee Community College (TCC) in the fall to finish up my long-put-off AA degree. I was sitting in my apartment awaiting a shipment of belongings from my parents in California. Suddenly, the phone rang. My mom was on the phone, and she asked me whether I had received the packages. I told her they had not been delivered yet. She said she would check up on it, and the phone line abruptly went dead. I was concerned because I had sensed real fear in her voice about the shipment not arriving. I was certain something was up, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I didn't quite know what to make of it at the time. That was the start of a series of bizarre events which seemed like something from the Twilight Zone. It would last for 6 long years, up until the day I sat in the studio at NBC in LA with the toy gun in my jacket pocket, waiting for my chance to leap onto the set to hopefully put a stop to what had become a living nightmare. However, I have learned recently that my efforts at bringing my experiences to the public attention did not stop them, although it may have slowed them down just a little. During the summer that followed, I continued to receive calls of a strange nature from many people, including my parents. I knew something was REALLY wrong when my dad called me up one night, and began asking me questions about some hotel we had all supposedly stayed at with "huge" marble staircases. Since none of us had ever been at such a place, I didn't know what the HELL he was talking about! When he realized that I was totally confused and worried, he acted like because I didn't "remember", he was going to be shot or something to that effect! Calls like that continued for weeks, including some really wierd ones from the operator, where she repeatedly questioned me about people whom I did not even know. The nature of the calls convinced me that my phone was tapped, and being monitored by the phone company or "someone!" When September rolled came, I went to TCC to register for classes. The day I walked in, almost ALL of the kids had dropped the classes they had signed up for the day before. A lady counselor (who was to play a part in my later demise) told me that it had NEVER happened before and never would again! She tried to assure me that it was all just a simple clerical error, but I thought at the time there was more to it than just that. I signed up for 5 classes, enough to complete my degree. I sure had an "open" list to pick from! After a week or so of classes, I realized that something was terribly wrong. Some of the kids in my classes were acting real funny, and I do mean ACTING! It was as if they were playing parts out of a movie, the way they were carrying on during class. Something just wasn't right. It seemed like they had been assigned various "roles", and their actions in the class made me believe that they had been put there for some specific purpose. I came to the gradual conclusion that some of the kids in my classes were either with the CIA or the FBI, what with the type of stuff they were doing and saying. And it seemed like they were there for the express purpose of keeping and eye on ME. I know that sounds paranoid, but it was the only assumption I could ascertain at the time, with the things that were going on. Gradually, those thoughts began to affect my class work to the point where I was having a hard time studying, and my grades began to slip in some of my classes. Fortunately, because of my strong will, I was able to keep my attention focused on getting done, and wound up passing all of my classes except one. However, the process by which I got through those classes was a pretty roundabout one, as it involved the first of my many unwilling hospitalizations for treatment of my supposed paranoid delusions. In order to be allowed to finish school, I was forced into signing myself into a small local mental hospital for treatment by the counselor who I had met while signing up for classes. When I discovered that that hospital was just a front for the CIA from the events which took place after I had signed in, I tried to sign myself out, but instead of being released, I wound up being sent to the main mental hospital here in town by the doctor in charge. I had friends with some authority who really cared about me, and after a few days and a visit from the public defender, I was discharged. But the fire of anger from that first wrongful admission to a mental hospital still burns within me. After I finished school, I went to my grandparents in West Palm Beach for Christmas vacation. There were some strange things going on down there as well, but I didn't make anything out of it. I then went up to Atlanta for New Years. When I got back, my mom called me at my apartment. But it was not my REAL mom! I couldn't explain it, but I knew instinctively that it wasn't my real mom's voice on the phone. The tonal qualities were different. When I told her I had been to Atlanta, she practically exploded at me. She told me that I was confused and she was coming to see me. She hung up, and the next day, she arrived at my apartment. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew that it was NOT my real mother. Her voice was different, her manners were different, and she didn't know what my mom knows about me. I know, cause I checked her out on little details about my past life. I didn't know what was going on, but I was mad and I was scared. After determining for certain that this was a clone of my real mom, I threw her out of my apartment. That night, the police came by, and tried to get me to open the door so they could grab me and take me back over to the little mental hospital. But I was smart back then, and wouldn't take the chain off the door. So they left. After they were gone, I decided I had had enough, and so I got in my car and took off into the night, terrified. I got on the interstate and started driving. I figured since my "fake" mom didn't like the idea of my going to Atlanta, that it would be safe up there. So I drove back up to Atlanta, and wound up getting trapped in the city overnight in a blinding snowstorm. I tried going to the FBI office there for help, but only got the runaround, although they DID act like it was very important information I had about one particular person the operator kept asking me about all the time over the summer. I wound up spending the night at one of the local college's student centers. I called my dad from there, and he knew where I was calling from without my telling him, so I figured somebody was able to trace the call pretty good. I also knew, from what he told me, that he was being held against his will somewhere. He told me to go back to Tallahassee and go into the hospital, or he wouldn't send me any money to get back there, as I had zoomed away without enough cash to get back. I knew I would need the cash, so I just said I would. I hadn't planned on going back there no matter what, but I didn't know exactly where I would head to yet. So I lied and said I would go pick up the cash if he would send it by Western Union. He agreed to this, and wished me good luck. What took place after that would make a good story in itself! Suffice it to say that I picked up the money okay at the Western Union office, but then I wandered around in the city, with some VERY interesting results. When I got back to the student center, it was real late, and I laid down on a couch like the other people trapped there for the night, and went to sleep. When I awoke the next morning, the snow had cleared enough for me to leave. I decided that there was just too much nonsense going on for me to return to Tallahassee, and so I just continued driving north on I-75, planning to head towards Washington, D.C. On the way there, the snow was still coming down on a long section of freeway, and I slid out of control and slammed my car into the retaining wall. There was some damage to my car, but I was able to continue. Fortunately, I have a lot of experience driving in rain, and I was able to control the swerve so the damage was not too bad. I pulled off the road near Cinncinati, Ohio to get a bite to eat. I made an illegal U-turn near the restaurant, and a cop pulled me over. He let me go with a warning though, and I went to have some dinner and coffee. Although I had been driving all day and most of the night, I was still in pretty good shape. When I finished eating, I decided to ask for an escort to Washington, as I was afraid because of stuff happening around me while I was driving, of someone trying to kill me on the road before I got there. I know it was a stupid idea, but I went ahead and called the Highway Patrol for an escort, telling them I some sort of a spy, and I had vital information needed to save the country from an enemy missle attack. Eventually, they sent a highway patrol car and a regular police car to the restaurant. The highway patrolmen were considerate as to my situation, but the regular police acted like I was some kind of criminal for reasons I couldn't understand. When they checked my car, they asked me about the damage, but I wouldn't say what had happened, and so they took me into protective custody. They took me to the police station, and then something happened that made me wonder just how far the situation with alien clones had gone. The police called my father and told me that he was flying in to pick me up, but then some very wierd stuff took place, and instead they took me over to Cinncinati General Hospital for supposed evaluation. The next day, I was transferred over to a nearby mental hospital, and placed in a locked ward for the next 4 weeks. The people there acted extremely bizarre, and the whole thing was a total sham. But I was trapped, and I spent a month in misery walking the halls, biding my time for the day I would be released. During the time I was there, I was so distraut by what was going on in the place, I called the FBI office in Cinncinati and told them that the hospital was a sham. They asked to speak to one of the people there, and I put the social worker on the phone, who gave a false name to the FBI agent. After that, I didn't screw around with them, but swore an oath that someday I would expose their fraudulant hospital to the world. At the end of the month, my REAL dad flew in to drive with me back to Tallahassee. I knew it was my real dad, and I also knew that he was pretending to his best to give the impression that nothing was wrong. I had the impression that he was being watched somehow every minute we were together, although I didn't know exactly how at the time. I just played along with it all, as I wanted OUT of that nuthouse. So we started driving back to Tallahassee that day. When we got back to Tallahassee, I began to understand just how serious my dad's situation really was. He was not acting "normal" at all, for him. When he covered up the story I had told to the police with feigned tears, I knew something was terribly wrong. I can tell when someone is faking anything, and I KNOW my own father, so I was able to discern that he was only "pretending" to cry. Then I realized that he was pretending because someone was somehow WATCHING him at the time! My dad was trying to fool THEM! I didn't know what to make of that at the time, but I swore I would someday find out what was going on. My dad found me a different apartment, one closer to FSU, where I live to this day as it is the best apartment complex in town. He had wanted to stick me in a halfway house, which is what I had promised him I would do in order to get out of the hospital, but I wouldn't go for it. So we moved all my stuff from my previous apartment, and the next day I took him to the airport to fly back to LA. I was mad as hell at whatever was going on, and so I treated him pretty poorly as he left. When he once again feigned crying, I knew it was to protect himself from whatever, and so I didn't say anything. He got on the plane and headed back. The next few weeks were hard on me, because I didn't have any classes to attend, and so felt lonely. I did have the FSU Plato system to learn from, but it just wasn't enough support, and gradually I began to slip backwards again. It ended up that I went driving off into the night in terror for a second time, this time from things that were going on around me in the town itself. I got on I-10 and started heading back to LA, in the hope that being around my family would pull me out of the fear and loneliness. I wound up losing my car in a crowded airport parking lot at the Houston Intercontinental Airport. I was in such a poor state of mind, that I believed that a computer fault I had come across on the government computer system I had spent many years on was somehow responsible for a sneak missle attact on the United States. It was at this point in time that I came across the fact that people were being replaced. How this was proved to me is shown later in the book. Suffice it to say that I wound up being incarcerated against my will in another mental hospital for a month, only this time they FORGED my NAME on the admission form to do it! At the end of the month, my dad flew in again, but this time he flew me back to LA with him. My mom got me a shrink in West Los Angeles, and I started taking injections of an anti-psychotic drug called Prolixin. I spent a happy, though angry, spring with my parents, and even went with them on a trip to Hawaii for a week. I had NO thoughts that these were not my real parents at the time, and I eventually put off the events with my mom in Tallahassee as misguided assumptions, although in the back of my mind there remained the fact that I am not ususally wrong when I think something funny is going on. As the summer came around back then in 1982, I said goodbye to my real parents and drove back to Tallahassee to return to school at FSU. My mind was at peace, because my parents WERE my real parents back then, and I was pretty confident that nothing would change that fact. I did not know how much more WRONG I could have been! The next two semesters at FSU went well, and I did good in my classes. However, as the summer appoached, my mind began to slip back to the events that had unraveled the year before. I found myself becoming more and more angry at myself for not having taken steps to file charges against the hospital in Houston that had forged my name, and I still didn't know what had really been going on at that hospital when I discovered that people were somehow being systematically replaced. Around August, I wound up getting throw into the local mental hospital again. This time around, I had proof positive that something VERY wrong was going on here in town. The stuff that was going on in the hospital was insane. It had no logical explanation, except to confirm my suspicions from the year before. I was physically abused this time, and had to placate my captors immensely in order to be released. This time though, being released was like merely being turned loose into the world of the unknown outside in the town. I didn't have my parents or my family to fall back on, and in fact, I felt that both my parents were being held prisoners in some CIA base somewhere. Although getting back to classes in September helped some, I still felt like a stranger in a strange land. The teachers I had were acting funny, and wierd things were going on all the time in class. As the weeks progressed, I found that I could not concentrate on my classwork very well, and gradually I had a complete breakdown. The end result of this was my running out of gas on the freeway, and getting smashed from behind by a pickup truck. When I woke up from being knocked unconcious, I was in the hospital, and my mom was standing there at the foot of my bed. I had been damaged pretty bad, and it was a miracle that I had lived. I lost a piece of my nose, and my face had been smashed pretty badly, but fortunately I had a real good plastic surgeon. Then my mom (not sure to this day if it was my REAL mom or not at the time) did something that convinced me that the aliens wanted me on a platter. From that moment on, I have been VERY careful as to what I say or do, or even think! After I got out of the regular hospital, I had problems dealing with reality even on the simplest of levels. So I wound up being thrown back into the mental hospital again, this time by my mom. This time in there, I discovered that people were indeed reading my mind directly as I had suspected. I also learned for the first time that God himself or his angels were trying to help me in my plight. I know that sounds even more incedible than aliens invading us, but my conclusions were drawn from logical sets of events. I was flown back to LA again for a third time, only this time I knew that BOTH my parents had been switched. I spent a fearsome time, but I had planned ahead and drawn enough money out of the bank before I left, so I could go back whenever I desired. Most of the time there was spent thinking I was on another planet, due to the kinds of things that were happening around me. I realize now that most of it was imaginary, but there are parts that were as real and unexplainable as can be. After only a few weeks, I drove back to Tallahassee without a word to my "parents." Despite the fact that I felt very much alone, I put myself back in school, and tried to finish up the classes I had to drop because of the accident. I did all right for a few months, but then things began to happen in my classes again at FSU. I tried to ignore them like previously, but this time I had nobody supportive to fall back on. Slowly I began to break down again from the stress, and wound up getting throw back again into the mental hospital around the middle of December. This time I decided to go back to LA, and so they released me on my own recognizance in order to fly back there. My FAKE father met me at the airport, and this time I knew I was going to be framed up bad. My REAL mom and my FAKE mom were being interchanged continuously throughout the time I was there, which consisted mainly of my being forced into signing myself into two more mental hospitals for the duration of my stay. I was released from the second one and flown back to Florida one day too late to register for classes for the spring semester of 1984. I COULD have late-registered, but at the time, I wasn't quite sure of which DIMENSION I was residing in! So I got back into Plato, and learned all the computer languages I could from that. I enrolled in Lively Vo-Tech that summer, and took up Electronics Technology. I really enjoyed it, having fallen in love with electronics some time back, and having learned most of it already on my own, I breezed through the courses. This was where I met my electronics teacher, who confirmed that the United States government did indeed have little alien bodies on ice at Hangar 18, now known as the Environmental Control Building. He also told me about the other strange things that the Air Force had in that building, and that it was the most highly guarded building in the world. Unfortunately, he too was replaced sometime after I had told him my story and he told me he was going to try to help me. After that, I thought twice about telling other people about my problems. Things went smoothly for me through the fall. I enjoyed my class at Lively and was doing quite well in it. Then, around the first of the year, something happened that disturbed my brief period of stability. I got into a conversation with a girl on Plato, which has inter-terminal communications capability, who told me that seven of HER friends had been replaced! I was shocked and terrified. I had thought that only those people in direct contact with me were being affected, but it turned out that complete strangers were being replaced as well. I was determined to put a stop to it. I got in touch with Dr. Allen J. Hynek, the leading authority on UFOs at the time. He told me to keep a low profile, and NOT to go public with the information until I could build up a dialog of communication with him. I started to sit down at my computer and write him about the things I was experiencing, but stopped after the first paragraph. How could I put into writing the unbelievable events that had taken place over the past FIVE YEARS!? I was at a loss, and determined that I would go see him in person at his headquarters in Chicago while on a trip to see my sister in Kansas. I drove to Kansas that summer, only to discover that my younger sister and my brother-in-law had been replaced as well. I was dismayed, and left there in a complete state of despair, and headed for Chicago, praying that Dr. Hynek could help me. But when I got to his office, I discovered that he was gone on a vacation and his partner, too, had been replaced. I was wrought with horror and anger, at what had transpired on the trip, and how worthless it had been. I made a vow to myself, that if ever circumstances lent themselves to give me a chance to expose the goings-on to the world, that I would take it! After I got back from the trip, I threw myself back into schoolwork to try to forget what had happened. I did all right for the fall semester, but then around Christmas vacation I began to feel depressed again. And AGAIN my "mom" flew down and threw me into the hospital! This time I learned that God was trying to help me personally, and that there were a lot of other "beings" trying to save us also. I was so confused by all this that I almost couldn't function on a rational level anymore. After two weeks in the hospital here, I was flown back to LA again. This time, they weren't taking any chances, and drove me right from the airport to UCLA Medical Center, and threw me into the psychiatric ward. Some interesting things occured there, but basically, it was a turnilng point for me in the sense that I began to fight back. I filed a writ of Habeus Corpus after two weeks, and went to court and got the judge to release me. From that moment on, I knew I could defeat their plans. They didn't know anything about law, and that was in my favor. I spent a couple of months with my REAL mom and FAKE dad over the spring. My REAL dad was locked up in the alien prison camp, so I didn't have much to do with the fake one. My real dad had shown up for just a few minutes at my court appearance, but then he was whisked out shortly before the judge released me, and replaced by his clone. I assumed by this that they were afraid only IN the courtroom. I swore to myself that I would get my fake dad into a courtroom, only this time over a REAL case. I didn't know how truthful it would turn out to be. I went to a computer class at Santa Monica College during this time period, and I planned out my revenge. I knew that my fake dad was doing a live show on KNBC as the Friendly Pharmacist, and I knew that he had access to the studios. I didn't plan yet to enter the studios with a toy gun, but I was determined to use that access to my advantage. I merely went to school and bided my time. When the summer of 1986 rolled around, I had completed my class, and drove back to Tallahassee. I had it in my mind to take some action before the next summer. I had no idea yet what it would be, but I was keeping all my options open. I knew I had to find out more information about the situations that had taken place at all the mental hospitals, so I went about getting ahold of my records. I was unable to obtain them all, because they broke the law and refused to give some of them to me, but using subterfuge, I did obtain a good percent of them. I rented a safe deposit box, to protect them from anyone's eyes but mine, in case what I was planning failed and my apartment was closed out again. When I was getting all my records, I realized that I had to get back inside one of the hospitals to see if there was still nonsense going on, and to have a backup plan ready in case I wound up there if my plans went awry. I picked UCLA, which was convenient, seeing as I could ask to go there if something went wrong. So, in January of 1987, I drove back to LA and checked into the hospital, for the first time of my own choosing! I spent about three weeks in UCLA, observing what was going on with great intent. I determined that I could handle a couple of weeks in there, if the plans I were making backfired. I noted everything that went on, and kept a mental log of all the staffing assignments. I "interviewed" the patients that were there, so as to see how much of a problem I would have if I returned under less desirable circumstances. When I left, I was satisfied that there was nothing anyone could do to stop me. I took up another computer class at Santa Monica College while waiting for my chance to strike. I was going out with a sweet girl from New Jersey, when Joan McCaughey stumbled into my life. I met her at the beach one day, and we became very close friends. It turned out that she had a problem with fake parents herself, although not of the cloned variety. It also turned out that she had had intimate contact with UFOs in her past, and I spent a couple of weeks with her, trying to track down the mystery of her family. It turned out they owned half of LA county. It was at this time, around June of 1987, that I bought the toy gun. I kept it under the passenger seat in my car, waiting for the chance I would get to use it. I was keeping close track of my fake dad's schedule at the studio, and was going to go in with him and hold the gun on him, and force HIM to read the statement over the air, when everything fell apart. He lost his job there, and I didn't know exactly what I was going to do. So I decided to take Joan back to Florida with me, and make my play from there, leaving my fake dad to think that I was out of the way. Joan and I spent an enjoyable "vacation" in Florida. We went all over the state and had a great time doing it. It was all part of my plan to make my fake dad forget all about me. I didn't know what he had told the people at KNBC about me, and it turned out that I had made the right decisions. I believe now that had I walked in with him, I never would have gotten "on the air", so to speak. After we got done traveling around, I started planning for the trip back to LA. It turned out that I took out just enough money from the bank to get there with about a gallon of gas to spare. My mom called us in Tallahassee, and Joan accidently told her we were coming back. She couldn't understand WHY I was coming back, and she was understandably worried. I just let Joan talk to her, as she wouldn't be able to interpret MY hostilities through Joan. The trip back was like a non-stop adventure. Although we stopped at Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico for some sightseeing, the majority of the trip consisted of my driving at top speed toward an uncertain future. I knew I could get into the studios, but what then? Would I be shot dead by the police, and would my message go out LIVE so nobody could edit it? I did not know the answers to those questions as we drove on through the night. When we got to LA, I dropped Joan off, then went over to my parents apartment. My fake dad answered the door, and he was pissed! Why had I come back, he wanted to know. I wouldn't say. I just took my suitcases into the spare bedroom, and went to bed. I could hear him arguing with my REAL mom outside for a good while. It turned out that my fake dad wasn't going to let me stay there past one night, so the next day I took the spare mattress over to Joans apartment and stayed the rest of the time there. The next two weeks were spent planning out exactly how I would compromise the studio. I made contact with the TV newswoman who would get me onto the set. I made sure I did this from a pay phone, as I knew my parents' phones were all completely tapped. I started writing up what I would hand the person on the air to read, although I didn't get to finishing it until one hour before I was to be at the studio because of procrastination. That has always been one of my shortcomings. The day before I was to enter the studio, I tried the toy gun out on a friend of mine to see if it would get the desired results. The test was a complete success, as my friend was scared to death at first sight of the gun. I had the stuff ready, and I was in a good frame of mind to go ahead and do it. At 3:30 pm on Wednesday, August 19, 1987 I entered the studio. In a little over one hour later, it was all over. I had MADE the national news. I had spent my wad, and I bear the results of that deed to this day. In the four years since that event, I have kept a silent vigil. I have endured many sorrows, and been chastised for my doings by many around me. But I still keep my head high, and think of what plight this world would be in now had I NOT done what I did that day. It rocked the world, but MORE importantly, it rocked the aliens and their plan for global domination! I have lived a lonely life since that day. But I have great hope for the future now. If you want to learn more about this, and the complete story of how all this has taken place, and how YOU can help in the fight to save our planet from these monsters who have us outgunned, read on. Read on, FELLOW HUMAN!

---

E-Mail Fredric L. Rice / The Skeptic Tank