CHAPTER 9: TRINITY - THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING TRINITY PART 2

“There is no other species on earth that does science. it is, so far, entirely a human invention, evolved by natural selection in the cerebral cortex for one simple reason: it works. it is not perfect. it can be misused. it is only a tool. but it is by far the best tool we have, self-correcting, ongoing, applicable to everything. It has two rules. first: there are no sacred truths; all assumptions must be critically examined; arguments from authority are worthless. second: whatever is inconsistent with the facts must discarded or revised. we must understand the cosmos as it is and not confuse how it is with how we wish it to be”- Carl Sagan, Cosmos, Who speaks for Earth?

 CHAPTER 9: TRINITY - THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING PART 2

 BY "MARK HENDRICKS"  as told to Steve Douglass

AUTHORS NOTE: 

It was only after two years of (what I thought were) happenstance meetings with Mark that he decided to trust me and tell me his story of Trinity. I'd be at a public event and suddenly there would be a tap on my shoulder and there he'd be. Most of the time it was at airshows (where he knew I would naturally gravitate to) but sometimes he'd just show up in my city and we'd have lunch or dinner somewhere and talk for hours. 

It took years of meetings before we got to Trinity and then several more to get to Roswell.

I knew he was an insider because of the way he talked and the information he had access to. He was one of my top contributors for the "The Fed File" a column that I wrote under a synonym for Monitoring Times Magazine and I also published his radio frequency lists in the Intercepts Newsletter my own self-published radio-hobbyist publication.

I was somewhat wary of Mark because I didn't know who he worked for. Maybe a three letter agency had marked me as someone reporting on secret squirrel shit they'd rather not get out, even though I had prided myself on only using open source materials for my articles.  I had seen it before, True Believers who'll publish anything without giving it the sniff test only to be later discredited making them look like fools. 

At first Mark only passed on radio intercepts and frequency information, but then I'd notice the  conversations shifting in a clever and indirect way to stealth aircraft, black projects, flying triangles, Aurora, Area 51 and eventually Roswell. 

He tested me a couple times with information that I knew was bullshit and some that I new were not. I guess he was testing me in some matter or another. I think I passed, or he was just the greatest straight-faced liar I had ever met. 

The first time it was in the form of a letter he passed on to me bearing a Nevada postmark. Inside was a  bad Xerox copy of some sort of craft along with a a postcard that had scribbled on the back "Greetings from beautiful Nevada! Find enclosed a photo of  the aircraft you've been chasing. Aurora! Enjoy! - Santa Clause.

The front featured a shot of the Las Vegas strip with a mushroom cloud in the background. That alone was enough to get my interest.

I carefully examined the photo and something just wasn't right about it. 

I asked myself. Why the bad Xerox? The image had had just enough detail to make it interesting but not enough to tell exactly what it was. I'm sure he thought I would publish it in my Intercepts Newsletter without any hesitation, but I was always skeptical of things that came so easily and from  anonymous sources. Not to mention, if it was classified information, I could go to jail for publishing it. In no way did I want to become a "Useful Idiot." 

I always listened to that little voice in my head saying, beware of techno-geeks bearing gifts.  

So, I ran it by another techno-geek and my good  friend, Stuart F. Brown.  the west coast editor for Popular Science Magazine. 

Stuart recognized it for what it was immediately, one of Graham Hawkes prototype Deep Flight submersibles. I ran the bad photo anyway captioning it, "I may not have been born yesterday, but I certainly wasn't born last night. " 

It was accompanied by an article I wrote on the many fakes photos I had debunked and in fact I used to get a lot of them from Aviation Week editors with a note attached reading; "prove this is either real or a fake." which I had taught myself to do. 

After my "TR-3A " sighting at Roving Sands, I convinced my self I needed to learn how to take apart a video or photo down to the pixle level, not only to learn how to process it better but  how to read the EXIF data which told you everything you needed to know about the making of an image and (or) if it had been altered. I rightly figured that everything I posted would be under scrutiny and there would be more images designed to trip me up.

Mark said, "If they see you getting close to the truth, they will do everything they can to discredit you so be prepared for that." I asked him, "Too close to what truth?"  He didn't answer.

I got really good at spotting fakes, much to the dismay of  popular UFOlogists like Dr. Stephen Greer (link)  and even the propaganda office of the Republic of Iran in an article titled "Iran you suck at photoshop," 

Another really good fake was of a two flying saucers sitting in front of a hangar, supposedly taken at "Area 51." that was circulating in forums online. Keep in mind there was no Google image search at the time and the hoaxer counted on that. I found the photo after an extensive search, minus the flying saucer in the NASA/Dryden archives. 

At first glance the photo looks real, but when you really examine it closely you'll see the shadows of the saucers do not line up with those of the other aircraft such as the F-86s Taking it down the the pixle level reveals many inconsistencies as well. and knowing there are no hangars like that at Area 51 was a big giveaway too.  I had spent many hours staring at satellite photos of the hangars at Area 51 to know this was not where the photo was supposedly taken.

Since then I've debunked hundreds of "UFO" photos and as such, the true believers hate me. 

I also was picked to be on a team of experts put together by Popular Mechanics Magazine to debunk some of the may myths surrounding the tragedy on 9/11. 

I was assigned photographic analysis of photos showing a purported "missile pod" strapped to the bottom of one of the hijacked airliners. 

To test this I made scale models of the jet and calculated the position of the airliner relative to the angle of the Sun and proved it was just a shadow of one of the engines on the fuselage. 

Another (a video still)  supposedly showing a missile being fired from the nose of one of the airliners. The flash is real and does indeed show up for a spit second before the aircraft pierced the building. 

However, after consulting with some physics professors they all agreed it was a static discharge from the building to the aircraft as would happen when a fast moving metal object gets close enough to a mostly metal grounded building. It had never been observed before because the static charge bleeds off as aircraft slow for decent and is gone by the time it lands. 

It's comparable to the static charge that scientists theorized that built up on the Hindenburg and jumped to the mooring tower, causing the spark that ignited the hydrogen in the dirigible.

Unfortunately due to the limited space in the magazine my findings didn't appear in the original Popular Mechanics article, but I do believe they did in the book and my name appears in the list of experts. 

In any event, I 've debunked more images and UFO videos than I can remember. As such, I've been labeled by many who make there living being UFOlogists as being part of the conspiracy to suppress the governments involvement with UFOs.  Once they read this, they will be surprised I'm about to do the exact opposite, but the narrative is not what they think it will be. 

 

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July, 16, 1945

Those last twenty minutes seemed like both the shortest and the longest time of my life. I started the wire recorder than ran outside to check the antenna array. I couldn't help but notice the crowd of eggheads had grown exponentially all trying to crowd into the bunker, a half-buried re-enforced concrete building with only three walls. On the south wall was a series of round ports all facing the tower. 

Some of of the scientists were adjusting equipment others donning welders goggles and slathering on Red Vet Pet (an early type of sunscreen) that was usually found in survival packs. 

I thought to myself, "That's not going be much help if the atmosphere ignites!" but then I though better of it and asked Bum if he had any. He tossed me a bottle that was practically empty. 

Bum said "Don't look at the blast until your hear the report!" Report I thought? What did he mean by report? Later I learned it meant the sound of the explosion. 

It was then I noticed it. One of the guy-wires holding down the directional antenna was not tied down. I very briefly thought I should run out and secure it but then thought better of it. What if the bomb went off while I was out there  - exposed? 

If we survive, I'll fix it. 

The antenna was properly aimed at base camp and I could hear the timing beats (countdown) coming from the loudspeaker so the antenna was doing it's job. I decided to ride out the blast in the SCAR, hoping at least it's mil-spec body some protection. 

At the five minute plus ten mark one of the radios crackled to life making me almost jump out of my skin. "ARMY 384 IS INBOUND "

I had almost forgotten! Two B-29s loaded with sensing equipment had been waiting out the storm in Albuquerque. They were late. I expected them on the net an hour ago. The rain had stopped, the ceiling was broken with scattered clouds above ground zero and although the tower holding the gadget was lit up like a Hollywood premier, I doubted they would see it until detonation. Their job was to drop sensing equipment dangling from parachutes that radioed such things as atmospheric pressure changes, shock wave intensities and changes in wind direction with altitude.  

I felt unsafe enough in a Army truck this close to the site, I couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like flying above the test article when it went off. The shockwaves generated just by the Hundred Ton TNT tests was enough to knock a man down and pelted us with so many rocks it was like being in a hailstorm.

I stepped just outside of the truck and briefly looked up. I couldn't see nor hear the planes. I climbed up the side of the bunker and took a quick look at the tower with the now (armed) device on it. I started to think we were way too close. 

Lit up as it was, I couldn't help but wonder what any wandering civilian might think of it. Maybe a radio tower or an oil derrick? Even in the dark I could see the hundreds of telephone poles and wires snaking out to the various control bunkers and observation sites. 

Many of them lead from the bunker (where Bum was busy throwing switches activating measuring devices) to the unmanned instrumentation site located to our south just 800 yards from ground zero. I had no idea what all the gizmos did, but I knew enough not to ask.

Yes, everything and everyone involved was connected by phone wires but if those went down because of the blast or had come down in the storm, it was my job to relay everything by radio. It was my job to radio Los Alamos but only if we had a failure. 

It was also my job to talk to the B-29s and in fact I had a message already waiting for them once they came up on the net. I stepped back in the SCAR, read the message and keyed the microphone on the frequency the B-29s were assigned to.

"Army 384 do you copy Pyramid Forward?" 

The reply was almost instant. 

"Army 384 - roger - go ahead."

"Kilo Six Alpha advises a change. Do not overfly the tower. Maintain a distance of 20 miles - copy - over?" 

There was a 30 second pause and I radioed again, "Army 384 do you copy - over?"

"Uh roger. Did you say 20 miles?" - the sound of his voice made me think he either hadn't heard me or he doubted what I was saying.

I replied, "Roger 384, came directly from Kilo Six Alpha himself." 

"Understood" came the reply.  Do we still drop pumpkins at that range?" 

My guess he was talking about the sensors but it said nothing about them on the message sheet. I didn't have time to find out and I'm sure they were busy with the countdown so I improvised.

"At your discretion Army 384." I radioed back. 

"Roger that." came the reply. 

If they hadn't dropped the sensors on my call, it would have been my ass on the line. Yes it was a gamble but everything about this operation was. 

Boom - flash! The launching of a magnesium flare signaled the 5 minute mark. From this point forward until the detonation, everything was run by a clocklike mechanism. 

I felt my heart speeding up and time slowing down.