WOODROW DERENBERGER

How many have heard of Woodrew Derenberger? This is an old report but nevertheless interesting.

Woodrow Derenberger was a pleasant appearing, sandy-haired gentleman of 50 years who, when I met him, was in the process of being transformed from a family man of normal pursuits into a national name whose home could no longer be called his castle and whose time was given over almost completely to television and radio shows, or to conducted tours of what had become one of the most popular UFO landing sites in the nation.

Woodrow Derenberger's story hit the front pages of newspapers along the North Atlantic Coast. I was picked up by the wire service, kited abroad and followed up with Air Force and NICAP investigations and a series of television appearances that by April had converted his life into a nightmare.

Mr. Derenberger was not reluctant to tell of his experience in the beginning. He considered himself something of a middleman between friendly aliens from another planet and people on Earth. His initial experience, familiar to most of you, took place on the night of November 2, when Derenberger, a salesman for a sewing machine company was returning from Marietta, Ohio to his home in Mineral Wells along Highway I-77.

A big craft settled down on the road in front of him covering it from berm to berm, and from it stepped a fine looking figure of a man, dark skinned, 40-odd years old more curious than frightened, and for several minutes they carried on a conversation, telepathically,, that consisted exclusively of Derenberger answering the stranger's questions. He gave his name and explained that he worked for a living because he had to and that the lights ahead were those of Parkersburg, a commercial center. He learned that the stranger's name was Mr. Cold, Indrid Cold, a "searcher" and that a commercial center, such as Parkersburg, would be known in his land as a "gathering."

Derenberger's initial curiosity switched to apprehension and then to actual fear. Cold tried to reassure him. "I am the same as you are," he comforted. "I sleep and breath and bleed as you do. I wish you no harm, only happiness."

Woody's idea of happiness then was a mug of black coffee in the kitchen of his own home, but the prospects seemed slim. He admitted he might have taken off, but there was no place to go. The big ship was only a few feet above his truck. Other cars passed while he sat there, a passenger car and a truck. Woody learned later the truck driver had seen him, but hadn't seen the mystery ship and thought Woody was taking to a friend along the road.

After several minutes, Cold stepped back from the truck, his "ship" lowered to the ground and Woody saw what he thought was another "creature" open the door, admit Cold, then slam it "just like a car door." The craft took off.

"The papers said later it took off with tremendous speed." Woody told me. "It didn't. I was the one who took off with tremendous speed."

"You should have seen him when he got home," Woody's wife said. "He looked awful. I thought he'd struck and killed somebody with the truck. He loves to play with the children, but not that night. I had to shoo them out. He just sat there in the kitchen, Grey-colored, and saying "You're going to think I'm crazy," or "you're going to laugh at me." Then he told me what happened."

"I was in shock., "Woody said. "That's what the doctor told me."

"He tried to make a report to the police and he couldn't even hold the phone," his wife said. "I had to make the call and when I reported it, the officer said it was the third call like that they'd had that night."

State and city police, a USAF sergeant and representatives from the local TV station swarmed around him the next day. "I consented to a TV appearance," Woody said. "But if I had it to do over again, there'd be none of that. As a matter of fact, Cold appeared two nights later and we had another talk. I never mentioned it around here."

"What was your second conversation about?" I asked.

"That night, November 4, I was driving home from Pomeroy, Ohio with a friend. I got these messages that Cold was there and then I saw the "ship". My friend saw it too, and several people in the area saw it that night, but nobody knew about my talk with Cold."

Woody settled back a little farther in his chair and gave me a serious appraisal. "You see, Mrs. Marling, I wasn't the person Cold planned to contact that first time. He's told me since that he was really homing in on a car ahead of me, a fellow he'd kept under watch for several days and believed would be a good communicant. But the man's car was so close to a busy intersection that Cold was afraid there might be an accident if he dropped down in front of him, so he chose me instead. He wasn't sorry. He told me I'm receptive, a good communicant."

"They aren't making contact only around here," Mrs. Derenberger told me. "They are doing this all over the country. But they find the people in West Virginia more receptive."

"It was at that second meeting, the night of November 4, that Cold told me about himself. He's from a planet called 'Lanulos,' located near the galaxy 'Genemedes.' They have woods, streams, fields, oceans, the same as we do. They've taken samples of our vegetation, our animals. Ours are much like theirs. Cold is married, his wife is named Kimi and he had two sons at that time. Has three children, now, one was born right around Christmas time, a little girl."

"They're Time Travelers," Mrs. Derenberger injected.

"That's right," Woody said. "In the fourth dimension. One reason they can't stay here too long at a time is because they get younger down here instead of older. Their life span is 125 - 175 years, but if they stayed here too long I think they'd go back in years and possibly forget how to manipulate their craft."

"They have 9 scout ships in this area," Mrs. Derenberger said.

"Two men to a craft," Woody elaborated, "except one ship that has four. On one craft there is a husband-wife team, Jitro and Elvara Cletaw."

"Did Cold still insist this was a friendly visit, no harm would come to you?" I asked.

"He reassured me. He's told me on several occasions that the people on his planet travel and trade with other planets all the time and that's what they want to do here. Lanulos has many things that would be of value to us, and we have many things that would be of value to Lanulos. Cold wants to have a friendly exchange."

"Aren't we too far away for a working trade agreement?" I asked.

"They don't operate out of their own planet. They have a landing base on the Moon. There's a Mother Ship up there, big as a football field and nine stories high, equipped with berthing docks. These scout ships land there and are taken aboard the mother ship."

"If there's something like that up there, I should think NASA would be interested in it," I suggested.

"Oh, NASA knows all about this," Woody assured me. "Knows more about it than I do. I took my family down to Cape Kennedy not long ago and we were talking with some of the NASA people. I told them Indrid had seen all the devices we've put on the Moon, has even waved at the cameras. He's seen every astronaut who's ever gone up and has waved at them and they've waved back. NASA said they knew all about it. I'd told them nothing new."

The pressures and confusion that are now a part of the Derenberger's daily life have taken their toll on Woody's wife. She is a pretty brunette who, up until November, 1966, had led the life of a happily married mother of two on the peaceful western fringe of the state. Since that night their phone has run round the clock. "We've had our number changed. We have an unlisted one now. Still they call. The mail comes in from all over the world, Japan, Germany, Okinawa. And callers, from 10 to 50 almost every night.... just driving right up, some make all night trips to get there... coming in the house. They think they'll see the ship. It comes in often. Some of them see it, some don't. We had one NICAP investigator out there who was carrying so much equipment, cameras, tape recorders, Geiger counters, he could scarcely get through the door. He didn't see the ship."

"Cold doesn't like a lot of people, a lot of confusion. He comes when the weather's bad, in the snow or pouring rain. Times when our aircraft are grounded."

"Has there been much Air Force activity around your place?" I asked.

"We're told the local authorities and the Air Force aren't out there, but we've seen some uniformed and armed men there... often. We don't know who they are."

"Has anyone else been in touch with Cold around here?'

"Yes, there's a group that gets together. They know him. There's a doctor, a minister, several businessmen. You see, Mrs. Marling, Cold comes here often. He's brought me bread from his planet. It's richer and coarser than ours, like old-fashioned biscuits. He even brought some spirits. Yucatan brandy in a wooden bottle."

"What was that like?"

"I'm not a drinking man, but I drank some of this. My father-in-law said it was like eggnog. But I thought it was syrupy.

"How did you react?"

"I really got high..."

"I tried to keep that wooden bottle," he told me. "I've tried to take things several times to have evidence that Cold was here. I even tried to steal something, but I never get away with it."

"If he's friendly why doesn't he let you take his picture, or give you something to show, or make an appointment with the Air Force or NASA or some organization that could really pin this thing down."

"He says it's not the right time, Mrs. Marling. He's been in touch with the head of our government and our military forces and agreed to show up at any place agreeable to them. But our government laid down certain stipulations. Told him we'd have to determine when they came, when they would leave and when they could have their ship back. Cold wouldn't hear of it."

_______

This article ran in Flying saucers - October 1967 by M. Spohn Marling

THURSDAY'S CHILD
















WOODROW DERENBERGER

How many have heard of Woodrew Derenberger? This is an old report but nevertheless interesting.

Woodrow Derenberger was a pleasant appearing, sandy-haired gentleman of 50 years who, when I met him, was in the process of being transformed from a family man of normal pursuits into a national name whose home could no longer be called his castle and whose time was given over almost completely to television and radio shows, or to conducted tours of what had become one of the most popular UFO landing sites in the nation.

Woodrow Derenberger's story hit the front pages of newspapers along the North Atlantic Coast. I was picked up by the wire service, kited abroad and followed up with Air Force and NICAP investigations and a series of television appearances that by April had converted his life into a nightmare.

Mr. Derenberger was not reluctant to tell of his experience in the beginning. He considered himself something of a middleman between friendly aliens from another planet and people on Earth. His initial experience, familiar to most of you, took place on the night of November 2, when Derenberger, a salesman for a sewing machine company was returning from Marietta, Ohio to his home in Mineral Wells along Highway I-77.

A big craft settled down on the road in front of him covering it from berm to berm, and from it stepped a fine looking figure of a man, dark skinned, 40-odd years old more curious than frightened, and for several minutes they carried on a conversation, telepathically,, that consisted exclusively of Derenberger answering the stranger's questions. He gave his name and explained that he worked for a living because he had to and that the lights ahead were those of Parkersburg, a commercial center. He learned that the stranger's name was Mr. Cold, Indrid Cold, a "searcher" and that a commercial center, such as Parkersburg, would be known in his land as a "gathering."

Derenberger's initial curiosity switched to apprehension and then to actual fear. Cold tried to reassure him. "I am the same as you are," he comforted. "I sleep and breath and bleed as you do. I wish you no harm, only happiness."

Woody's idea of happiness then was a mug of black coffee in the kitchen of his own home, but the prospects seemed slim. He admitted he might have taken off, but there was no place to go. The big ship was only a few feet above his truck. Other cars passed while he sat there, a passenger car and a truck. Woody learned later the truck driver had seen him, but hadn't seen the mystery ship and thought Woody was taking to a friend along the road.

After several minutes, Cold stepped back from the truck, his "ship" lowered to the ground and Woody saw what he thought was another "creature" open the door, admit Cold, then slam it "just like a car door." The craft took off.

"The papers said later it took off with tremendous speed." Woody told me. "It didn't. I was the one who took off with tremendous speed."

"You should have seen him when he got home," Woody's wife said. "He looked awful. I thought he'd struck and killed somebody with the truck. He loves to play with the children, but not that night. I had to shoo them out. He just sat there in the kitchen, Grey-colored, and saying "You're going to think I'm crazy," or "you're going to laugh at me." Then he told me what happened."

"I was in shock., "Woody said. "That's what the doctor told me."

"He tried to make a report to the police and he couldn't even hold the phone," his wife said. "I had to make the call and when I reported it, the officer said it was the third call like that they'd had that night."

State and city police, a USAF sergeant and representatives from the local TV station swarmed around him the next day. "I consented to a TV appearance," Woody said. "But if I had it to do over again, there'd be none of that. As a matter of fact, Cold appeared two nights later and we had another talk. I never mentioned it around here."

"What was your second conversation about?" I asked.

"That night, November 4, I was driving home from Pomeroy, Ohio with a friend. I got these messages that Cold was there and then I saw the "ship". My friend saw it too, and several people in the area saw it that night, but nobody knew about my talk with Cold."

Woody settled back a little farther in his chair and gave me a serious appraisal. "You see, Mrs. Marling, I wasn't the person Cold planned to contact that first time. He's told me since that he was really homing in on a car ahead of me, a fellow he'd kept under watch for several days and believed would be a good communicant. But the man's car was so close to a busy intersection that Cold was afraid there might be an accident if he dropped down in front of him, so he chose me instead. He wasn't sorry. He told me I'm receptive, a good communicant."

"They aren't making contact only around here," Mrs. Derenberger told me. "They are doing this all over the country. But they find the people in West Virginia more receptive."

"It was at that second meeting, the night of November 4, that Cold told me about himself. He's from a planet called 'Lanulos,' located near the galaxy 'Genemedes.' They have woods, streams, fields, oceans, the same as we do. They've taken samples of our vegetation, our animals. Ours are much like theirs. Cold is married, his wife is named Kimi and he had two sons at that time. Has three children, now, one was born right around Christmas time, a little girl."

"They're Time Travelers," Mrs. Derenberger injected.

"That's right," Woody said. "In the fourth dimension. One reason they can't stay here too long at a time is because they get younger down here instead of older. Their life span is 125 - 175 years, but if they stayed here too long I think they'd go back in years and possibly forget how to manipulate their craft."

"They have 9 scout ships in this area," Mrs. Derenberger said.

"Two men to a craft," Woody elaborated, "except one ship that has four. On one craft there is a husband-wife team, Jitro and Elvara Cletaw."

"Did Cold still insist this was a friendly visit, no harm would come to you?" I asked.

"He reassured me. He's told me on several occasions that the people on his planet travel and trade with other planets all the time and that's what they want to do here. Lanulos has many things that would be of value to us, and we have many things that would be of value to Lanulos. Cold wants to have a friendly exchange."

"Aren't we too far away for a working trade agreement?" I asked.

"They don't operate out of their own planet. They have a landing base on the Moon. There's a Mother Ship up there, big as a football field and nine stories high, equipped with berthing docks. These scout ships land there and are taken aboard the mother ship."

"If there's something like that up there, I should think NASA would be interested in it," I suggested.

"Oh, NASA knows all about this," Woody assured me. "Knows more about it than I do. I took my family down to Cape Kennedy not long ago and we were talking with some of the NASA people. I told them Indrid had seen all the devices we've put on the Moon, has even waved at the cameras. He's seen every astronaut who's ever gone up and has waved at them and they've waved back. NASA said they knew all about it. I'd told them nothing new."

The pressures and confusion that are now a part of the Derenberger's daily life have taken their toll on Woody's wife. She is a pretty brunette who, up until November, 1966, had led the life of a happily married mother of two on the peaceful western fringe of the state. Since that night their phone has run round the clock. "We've had our number changed. We have an unlisted one now. Still they call. The mail comes in from all over the world, Japan, Germany, Okinawa. And callers, from 10 to 50 almost every night.... just driving right up, some make all night trips to get there... coming in the house. They think they'll see the ship. It comes in often. Some of them see it, some don't. We had one NICAP investigator out there who was carrying so much equipment, cameras, tape recorders, Geiger counters, he could scarcely get through the door. He didn't see the ship."

"Cold doesn't like a lot of people, a lot of confusion. He comes when the weather's bad, in the snow or pouring rain. Times when our aircraft are grounded."

"Has there been much Air Force activity around your place?" I asked.

"We're told the local authorities and the Air Force aren't out there, but we've seen some uniformed and armed men there... often. We don't know who they are."

"Has anyone else been in touch with Cold around here?'

"Yes, there's a group that gets together. They know him. There's a doctor, a minister, several businessmen. You see, Mrs. Marling, Cold comes here often. He's brought me bread from his planet. It's richer and coarser than ours, like old-fashioned biscuits. He even brought some spirits. Yucatan brandy in a wooden bottle."

"What was that like?"

"I'm not a drinking man, but I drank some of this. My father-in-law said it was like eggnog. But I thought it was syrupy.

"How did you react?"

"I really got high..."

"I tried to keep that wooden bottle," he told me. "I've tried to take things several times to have evidence that Cold was here. I even tried to steal something, but I never get away with it."

"If he's friendly why doesn't he let you take his picture, or give you something to show, or make an appointment with the Air Force or NASA or some organization that could really pin this thing down."

"He says it's not the right time, Mrs. Marling. He's been in touch with the head of our government and our military forces and agreed to show up at any place agreeable to them. But our government laid down certain stipulations. Told him we'd have to determine when they came, when they would leave and when they could have their ship back. Cold wouldn't hear of it."

_______

This article ran in Flying saucers - October 1967 by M. Spohn Marling

THURSDAY'S CHILD