George Adamski

The Story of a UFO Contactee - George Adamski

During the 1950s the Earth was visited by the Space People. Unlike today’s aliens, the Space People were tall and attractive, highminded and benevolent. And they were wise. To share with us their wisdom, they made contact with selected individuals. The most celebrated of these was George Adamski.
Adamski was a philosopher who dwelt on a mountaintop in California. In 1953 he was taken aboard a flying saucer, flown to a mother ship, and entrusted with a mission. He was to communicate to Mankind the wisdom of the Space People. Let us examine his life story, his encounters with the Space People, and his writings. And let us learn from him.

Early Years

Adamski was born in 1891 in Poland, to parents who “possessed an unusual and deeply religious approach to the wonders of creation,” we are told in a biographical sketch (by Charlotte Blodget) appended to Inside the Space Ships. Two years later the family emigrated to America; and George was raised in Dunkirk, New York, in modest circumstances.
At an early age he dropped out of school. Yet Adamski had begun a regimen of self-education that would continue throughout his life. Already he knew that to learn about nature’s laws would be “the enduring quest of his life,” and that his aim in acquiring that knowledge would be to serve Mankind. No doubt he was a familiar figure at the public library in Dunkirk, and in subsequent places of residence. At 22 Adamski joined the Army, serving with a cavalry regiment on the Mexican border. And towards the end of his enlistment, in 1917, he married.
What little is known of his activities during the next decade comes from his FBI file.† During this period Adamski moved about the Western states in search of work. He served as a maintenance worker in Yellowstone National Park; a laborer in an Oregon flour mill; a concrete contractor in Los Angeles. According to that biographical sketch, his travels and variety of jobs gave Adamski an insight into the ways and problems of his fellow man. Adamski worked hard on these jobs. Yet his mind was always active. He was an eager and energetic student, in “the university of the world.” Finally, the teacher emerged; and in1926 Professor Adamski
(as he billed himself in his pre-contactee days) began to teach philosophy in Los Angeles. His students were anyone who cared to listen to the impromptu lectures of a sidewalk philosopher.


Where are all the UFOs?

A few years later, in nearby Laguna Beach, he
founded the Royal Order of Tibet. The Royal Order met
in a building called the Temple of Scientific Philosophy.
There the professor expounded upon the mysteries of Universal
Law, to seekers of esoteric knowledge. And he traveled
about California, New Mexico, and Arizona, giving
lectures in behalf of the Royal Order. These early lectures
Adamski would describe as “philosophical talks on the laws
of life from a universal concept.”
What were his qualifications for this lofty calling? Adamski
would claim to have lived and studied in Tibet. In any event, he had mastered (from whatever sources, in that “university of the world”) a vague body of generic wisdom and philosophy. (His teachings contain little that is specifically Eastern.) This knowledge he communicated via lectures, informal discussions, and self-published tracts and booklets. One of the booklets, published in 1936, was Questions and Answers by the Royal Order of Tibet, as “compiled” by Professor G. Adamski. The work was intended, declared its author, “to enlighten the student or seeker of
truth,” and to aid him in “awakening from the dream-life to the reality which leads to Mastery.” One day a student presented him with a six-inch reflecting telescope; and Adamski began to explore—and to photograph—the heavens.

Amateur Astronomer

In 1940 Adamski and a few of his closest students—wishing to separate themselves from the travails of the world and devote themselves to philosophy—moved to a
ranch near Mount Palomar. There they farmed and studied.
Four years later the group acquired a 20-acre property on
the mountain itself, with funds provided by Mrs. Alice
Wells, one of the students. They cleared the land, built
simple dwellings, and dubbed their new retreat Palomar
Gardens. They also built a restaurant, which became a
gathering place for the group. Called the Palomar Gardens
Cafe and run by Mrs. Wells, it catered to both tourists on
the mountain and visitors to the retreat. Adamski served as
its handyman and all-around helper; but in the evenings he
gave informal talks in the dining room.

At the top of the mountain was the Hale Observatory. Inhis opening remarks in Flying Saucers Have Landed, Adamski would seek to dispel the confusion that had resulted from his sharing an address with the Observatory:
I am George Adamski, philosopher, student, teacher, saucer researcher. My home is Palomar Gardens, on the southern slopes of Mount Palomar, California, eleven miles from the big Hale Observatory, home of the 200-inch telescope the world’s largest. And to correct a wide-spread error let me say here, I am not and never have been associated with the staff of the Observatory. I am friendly with some of the staff members, but I do not work at the Observatory.
Yet Adamski was an amateur astronomer. He had acquired by now a larger telescope: a fifteen-inch reflector. When night came to the mountain, he would head over to the dome in which the telescope was housed—to scan the heavens and ponder their mysteries. One night in 1947, he watched as a series of lights movedacross the sky. When one of them stopped abruptly and reversed its course, he said to himself: “This must be what
they call a flying saucer.”

It was a notion Adamski was able readily to accept. His years of studying and teaching philosophy, he explains, had convinced him that beings similar to Man must inhabit countless planets of the Universe, and that some of them would have developed the means of interplanetary travel. Adamski began to scan the sky in earnest, looking for spacecraft. And it was not long before he had spotted, and photographed,a number of them. The local Rotary Club heard about the photos and invited him to give a talk on his sightings. A seasoned lecturer, Adamski was pleased to comply. The talk was well received by the Rotarians, and was given newspaper coverage. Adamski applied himself now to obtaining more detailed photos of the spacecraft. In all kinds of weather, he scanned the sky through his telescope. And he began to entertain a hope—that one of the ships would land. That its occupants would emerge and speak with him—and maybe even give him a ride! For the observations and photography that had become his his obsession, Palomar Gardens was the perfect site. Its 3000-foot elevation afforded a clear view in every direction. The view was inspiring as well: mountains, sea, distant San Diego. Night after night the philosopher spent with his telescope, often napping beside it in a hammock. In winter months the stars shone with an icy brilliance; and as the wind roared, not even the hot coffee that his wife (or a female follower) brought out to him could allay the cold. But on spring and summer nights the breeze whispered through the trees—owls hooted—coyotes yapped at the moon. These were “nights of magic to recompense for those of discomfort as I continued my watch for the mysterious saucers.” The saucers were increasingly visible (they were moving in closer to the Earth, he believed); and by 1952 Adamski had obtained a large quantity of photos, some of which showed “well outlined forms—but not much detail.” Many of the craft he sighted were in the vicinity of the Moon.

Word of the photos spread; and Adamski—an unpolished yet oddly compelling public speaker—became in demand in Southern California as a lecturer. In his talks he displayed blow-ups of his best photos—proof of the reality of flying saucers—photographic evidence! He also published an article in Fate magazine. Titled “I Photographed
Space Ships,” it created a stir and brought in requests for copies of the photos (which Adamski supplied for a dollareach). As he became a figure of note in UFO circles, enthusiasts began to appear on his doorstep, often having driven a great distance to meet him. Adamski knew, of course, that the response to the photos was mixed. Many people were scoffing and accusing him of fakery. But his lectures—however received—were serving a purpose, he insisted. They were causing people to take an interest in flying saucers, and to keep an eye out for the mysterious craft.
He continued to lecture, and to observe the sky at night, camera at the ready. And he was still holding forth at the Cafe. His subject, as before, was Cosmic Consciousness or
the like—but with added reference now to our fellow inhabitants of the Universe.
Then, in 1952, Adamski began to hear “reports of saucers apparently landing in various desert areas not a great drive from Mount Palomar.” At last. They were landing.

Follow the next chapter in Goerge Adamski's story in the next Post; "The Contactee"

Here is a sampling from Questions and Answers :
“What is conscious consciousness? - Consciousness as a Totality of Being is merely a state of passive awareness.…”
“What is the law of cosmic brotherhood?
Universal love, harmony, unity, the oneness of all things.…”
“What is man’s greatest enemy?
HIMSELF!”