it junk。 It was all antique。 Some rooms contained apparatus so old it looked like young Tom Edison's laboratory。 There were coils； meters； switches； and rheostats that were outdated when Marconi was sending his first signals across the Atlantic。
However； all this rickety debris appeared to be in good working condition。
In another locked room a group of people were working with a device called a 〃pen register。〃 This was a gadget that could be patched into any telephone line to record every number dialed on that phone。 A moving pen wrote the number on a strip of paper。 Thus the telephone pany could obtain a record of every local call made on a given phone （long…distance calls are automatically recorded on another； more elaborate device）。
If anyone was tapping my phone； they had to do it from the two terminals at the tube outlet。 Or a connection had to be made at that point and the wires strung to another room。 The locked doors and tight security meant that only authorized snoops could connect such a tap。 And； as I learned later； the New York Telephone pany was very uncooperative； even the FBI was refused access。 Police tappers usually had to figure out a way to do it themselves without the help of the phone pany。
I must admit I was impressed by the tour。 It seemed impossible for anyone to tap my phone。
Three months later； however； I accidentally discovered what was probably the answer to many of my problems。 A friend dialed my number and her finger slipped。 Instead of dialing the last two digits…four eight…correctly； she dialed four zero。 She realized instantly what she had done and was about to hang up and redial when I answered the phone！ She told me what she had done and I suggested we hang up and try four zero again。 Again my phone rang。 I had two phone numbers and never knew it！ I asked other friends to try the four zero number。 Sometimes my phone would ring and I would answer。 Other times my phone would remain silent but someone else would answer and would offer to 〃take a message for Mr。 Keel。〃 I called the four zero number from a pay phone and someone picked it up。
〃Hi； this is John Keel；〃 I said cheerily。 〃Any messages for me？〃
There was an audible gasp on the other end and they slammed the receiver down。
Obviously I was getting four zero's phone bills。 I asked my friendly telephone representative to track down the owner of that other phone。 But； of course； she could not 〃give out that information。〃
So I went to the FBI to lodge a formal plaint。 When you visit the New York FBI office you are ushered into one of several small cubicles where a polite young man hears you out sympathetically。 You can imagine the loonies and weirdos who must pester the FBI day after day。 But after hearing a summary of my story； my man escorted me to another room where I was interviewed by a group of older agents who were obviously extremely interested in my problems。 They expressed surprise that。 I had been given a tour of the exchange building。 This was unheard of。 The FBI and CIA hate each other； and they both hate the telephone pany。 The telephone pany； in turn； seems to hate everybody。
In April 1968； my outrageous phone bills were unpaid so my service was cut off； both ining and outgoing。 I simply told everyone to use the four zero number。 Although my line was supposedly disconnected at the main exchange； I continued to receive phone calls。 The line should have been totally dead 。。。 but there was power ing through on it from somewhere。 Technically this should have been impossible unless…unless the New York Telephone pany was the one who was tapping my phone！
Phones in the country are much easier to tap。 Lines strung across the countryside offer easy access。 It is even possible to mount a small induction coil next to the telephone box on the subject's house。 Modern technology is so sophisticated that a physical tap is not necessary。 A panel truck containing the necessary equipment can simply park near the telephone line and pick up all the conversations like a radio signal。
In 〃the 1960s there were many mysterious panel trucks cruising around flap areas and sometimes they went to great pains to focus attention on telephones and telephone lines。 One tactic was what I call the 〃silver tape gambit。〃 Lengths of silver tape are strung rather meaninglessly on the telephone poles close to the subject's home。 I came across this several times and collected some samples of the tape。 It was not electrical tape such as might be used by telephone repairmen but was a mon weather insulating tape available in almost any hardware store。
〃There was also evidence at this time that ＇the witnesses's＇ phone had been tampered with；〃 Jennifer Stevens reported from Albany； New York； in 1968。 〃She observed two 'light Negroid types' with pletely expressionless faces； stringing 'silver tape' on the wires near her home。 Since they did not have an official telephone pany car； she called the police。 The men left before the officers arrived and the only ment made by police was： 'Oh； the silver tape again。' 〃
In March 1968； a large four…engined plane with no visible markings skirted the treetops over Henderson； West Virginia； just south of Point Pleasant； and discharged a large quantity of silver tape over the trees in the area。 Sheriff George Johnson collected some of it and passed samples on to me。 Matching samples I had collected from Ohio； Florida； and several other places； it was identical to the stuff being used by our mystery men。 Since the tapes are extremely sticky （the glue is about equal to the glue on Con…Tact paper） one wonders how a fast…moving plane was able to discharge it in a stream and what was the point of the exercise？
III
The U。S。 Air Force had lied to me。 The telephone pany lied to me。 The UFO entities lied to me。 My own senses had； on occasion； lied to me。 As December 15 drew closer I kept my mouth shut and told no one that I expected a major blackout。 After all； Pope Paul had escaped assassination in Turkey。 None of the chemical factories along the Ohio had exploded。 Maybe this was just another mischievous error of prophecy； or a description of something in the past or far in the future。
A security officer for the Transit Authority and an old friend of mine； Joe Woodvine； happened to drop by my apartment late on the afternoon of the fifteenth。 I hadn't seen him in a long time and he knew nothing about UFOs and my capers。 I didn't mention the blackout until Dan Drasin stopped in。 Joe listened in open…mouthed amazement as I explained to Dan that I expected the nation to blow a fuse the moment President Johnson pulled that switch。 Dan was as far gone as I was。 He glanced nervously at his watch and decided that if there was going to be a blackout he preferred to be in his own apartment。 Joe became very silent； probably wondering if we were dangerous。
Dan left about 5 P。M。 I switched on the television。 At 5：45 the brief White House ceremony began。 I broke out my candles and flashlights。 Joe watched me worriedly。 President Johnson delivered the customary little speech to the crowd on the White House lawn； reached for the switch； arid the Christmas tree blazed with light。 The crowd oooed and ahhed as if they bid never seen a Christmas tree before。 My lights did not go out。 Joe studied me silently。
Suddenly an announcer's voice came over the crowd noises。
〃We interrupt this program；〃 he announced flatly； 〃for a special bulletin。 A bridge laden with rush…hour traffic has just collapsed at Gallipolis； Ohio。 Further details as soon as they are available。〃
I fell back in my chair。 There was no bridge at Gallipolis； Ohio。 The only bridge on that stretch of the river was the seven…hundred…foot Silver Bridge at Point Pleasant。 The bridge I had crossed a thousand times。
〃They've done it again；〃 I finally muttered softly。 〃Those lousy bastards have done it again。 They knew this was going to happen 。。。 and when。 And they gave me all that bilge about a power failure。 They knew。 They just didn't want me to be able to warn anyone。〃