The Little Lincoln (Autumn 1985)

Okay– I think this is finally the last memory I have from my childhood and teen years associated with alien abduction that I have…! I scoured all my journals this winter to see if I missed anything. I was pleased to find that, actually, I nearly covered it all. There was ONE wee incident that I never put with my other memories, but in retrospect as an adult I have zero doubts it was connected.

I was 15 and having one of those nights I called “garbage nights.” Basically, the whole world felt funky (noticing “Oz effects” I suspect) and I would just know that “they” were going to be coming for a visit (I thought spirits of some kind until I saw an alien while awake a year later.) The feeling of looming presence grew and grew until I couldn’t stand it and got up to creep into my parents room.

Now, most of you know there is little love lost for my parents. By my teens, I had very little trust or affection for either my mother or my father. Yet, the level of fear I faced regarding nighttime visitations was so high that I couldn’t bear not to try to find protection and comfort of some kind, despite the low quality of both to be found. This behavioral aspect of life-long alien abductees is common. Nearly everyone shares a history of sleeping in their parents’ rooms on particularly bad nights well into their teens. I was no exception. Fear overrides every other factor.

My father wasn’t home in this case, so I slipped in next to my mother, full of dread and hoping my instincts were wrong. I never fell asleep, but I at least reached a point of relaxing.

Around midnight or so, I heard some slight noises and assumed it was a cat. I looked at the foot of the bed, expecting to watch a feline jump up any second. Instead, what I saw greatly surprised me. My alarm was actually suppressed by the absurdity of what I saw.

There was a little person standing at the end of the bed dressed like Lincoln!

It was only about 3 and a half feet tall, wearing an over-sized stovepipe hat and obviously fake beard and mustache. It was very dim, and I so I could only make things out from the ambient light coming through the window. Still, there was no mistaking what I was seeing. However, it wasn’t a perfect replication of a mini-Lincoln, because it was also wearing spectacles. Not to mention Lincoln did not have a mustache. The being was so short it could barely peer over the foot of the bed at me– so I couldn’t see how it was dressed. Just the head. It was a pathetic disguise, but it managed to obscure what the being’s head looked like very well.

My horror quickly grew when, shortly after spying the little Lincoln, I distinctly felt the bedcovers oh so slowly pulled downwards towards the being and off of myself and my mother, who slept on, utterly oblivious. I began whimpering under my breath, and reached for my mother at the same time I desperately clutched at the blankets. I pulled my feet up and away from the being as best I could, curling up protectively. I began shaking my mother and telling her to wake up. She didn’t, of course.

I tried a new tactic for whatever faerie creature this was (as no ordinary spirit would dress in such a way, I reasoned, and further– it was very physically present). I said, “Quit it! Go away! I’m not kidding! STOP THAT!“

And then abruptly I lost consciousness in the midst of my hissing these protests. I awoke the next day utterly perplexed.

Looking back on that incident now, I’m pretty sure it was one of the shorter greys wearing a disguise so that if I saw it while awake, I’d think it was a dream looking back upon the incident. Its not the first time I’d seen greys wearing a disguise. Witness the incident at age 11 where 3 of them were dressed as “bad guy” cowboys with huge black hats! It may also have been a defense to throw me off, which worked for a minute or so. And it seems crazy so that if I report it, its that much less believable. I’m sure it wasn’t wearing a Lincoln disguise for fun– although it IS pretty funny to see a Lincoln impersonator less than 4 feet tall! At Spiral\’s End: What\’s Left After the Paradigm Shatters is the personal paranormal blog of a woman that follows not only current odd events in her life, but recounts incidents from her past, including lifelong alien abductions, encounters with ghosts and other spiritual beings, and premonitions from either waking visions or dreams. She reacts and speculates about the deeper meaning behind these incidents and wonders– what is the ultimate reality or intelligence behind it all?