This story revolving around a popular New Hampshire musician has, up until now, only been rumor. Some of the participants have officially gone on the record claiming it is true.
It all began with a missing persons report filed by his wife, Ginger Basnar. New Hampshire blues guitarist Jerry Ray Basnar had gone missing for over ten days when he was suddenly discovered on a patch of ground, naked, shivering, and covered with fallen leaves.
Located in a wooded area off Route 3 in his hometown of Laconia, New Hampshire, Basnar was suffering from hypothermia and appeared to be in a state of shock Since then, Basnar has become an object of intense interest for the national press, the Central Intelligence Agency, and NASA scientists.
Although it is yet to be proven to a certainty, Basnar may have gone further than any man has gone before. After reviving in a Laconia hospital, Basnar has claimed that he was taken aboard a craft that was not designed by any engineer or rocket scientist from this world.
“The whole thing was nuts,” Basnar explained. “It was out of this world. I was driving home on my bike when something above me suddenly lit up the whole two lane highway. I looked up to see what it was when my bike, my guitar which was strapped onto my bike, and I got pulled upward into whatever it was. No matter how much I revved, the road was getting further and further beneath me. Talk about scary.”
Due to the trauma of his abduction, Basnar cannot recall all of the details. Under hypnosis he has recalled his bike and himself rising up into a craft before a door of some kind closed underneath him. Then, he and his bike “floated” back down the “floor” of whatever he got pulled into.
“It was far too bright inside of this craft,” Basnar recalled. “It couldn’t have been made for human eyes to withstand. Next thing I knew, about ten or more of these little white squiggly guys came up to me and kicked out my kickstand so my bike could stand on its own. Then, they pulled me up off the saddle of my bike. I felt unable to do anything but go in whichever direction they indicated.”
Basnar recalled being walked down what appeared, through the blinding light, to be a series of hallways. He and his small white creature companions came to a chamber lined with large glass encasements with human beings inside each one of them. Each person seemed dormant, paralyzed inside his or her encasement, eyes wide open, but completely motionless.
“They must have put me in suspended animation or something,” Basnar said. “Last thing I remember was being put inside one of these glass tubes and then nothing. When they removed me, my watch indicated I’d lost 24 hours of time since my bike and I left the pavement.” Basnar would lose another ten days out of his life before the entire ordeal ended.
Basnar believes his other worldly captors collected him and others to study human beings and to learn how they function biologically. Basnar said his little white squiggly captors performed some sort of complete physical exam. When pressed for details, Basnar avoided eye contact, looked downward.
“Well, it’s kind of embarrassing,” Basnar said quietly. “I felt violated.” Looking up, he continue: “Think about it. Put yourself in my place. I had no idea who or what these beings were, and I had no idea what those instruments were that they were poking me and prodding me with.”
Infuriated by the alien trespass on his person, Basnar, under further hypnosis, recalled that he decided to make a break for it. While being escorted from the “sick bay” area of this craft back to his suspended animation chamber, Basnar jumped into action. He elbowed one his captors to his rear right side and ran forward, pushing out intensely, knocking over a few of his little white squiggly captors. Yet, Basnar only got so far when he was overcome by the blinding white light that permeated every cubic inch of that craft’s interior. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by several beings, each one apparently trying to set dials on some sort of hand held gizmo. Basnar knew it was his chance, so he advanced aggressively into the throng, punching each in its face as he moved forward. Strangely, his punches only went so far. Each alien face he pummeled instantly self-healed, reforming as if it had never been struck.
“Man oh man,” Basnar began. “It was like trying to fight The Pillsbury Doughboy, dozens of them. Just after my fist would sink in, it was forced back out by their rubbery bone structure. I hope their intentions are peaceful, not hostile. These guys would be hard to take in a rumble.”
Before the aliens could take action with their technical devices, Basnar was stopped dead in his tracks by a very human quality: honor. A creature that suddenly somersaulted into place right in front of him had the twinkling eyes and curvy figure he associates with human females. So, he couldn’t bring himself to strike her with his fists.
“My dad would jump out of his grave and whip me good if I ever hit a female,” Basnar said. “Even if she is from another quadrant of the galaxy or something.” At that moment, the possibly female alien fired a kind of gun like gizmo at Basnar, temporarily blinding him with an even brighter light. After the flash left his eyes, Basnar was unable to move. Levitated above the floor, he was guided, floatingly, back to his suspended animation tube.
All Basnar can recall from that point on is waking up cold and naked in a wooded area off Route 3. He said covering himself with leaves to fend off the cold was something he had learned in the boy scouts. Hours after he was admitted to a Laconia area hospital, his motorcycle and the electric guitar he had been transporting were recovered nearby, in pristine condition, like the day he purchased them brand new.
Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Homes Jr. once wrote “A mind that is stretched by new experiences can never go back to its old dimensions.” Holmes may as well have written that sentence for Basnar. Despite the trauma of losing his freedom for several days and dealing with creatures possibly not of this earth, Basnar has, in some ways, been enhanced by his abduction. Many of his fellow musicians say he wrings several new, exciting, unheard of tones out his guitar playing. Some of the patrons at the Wantu Blues Jams, held every Sunday afternoon at The Village Trestle in Goffstown, New Hampshire, claim Basnar can channel the sounds of the universe through his amps. As proud as they are, none would go on the record.
Basnar’s wife, Ginger Basnar, when asked how his alien abduction experience impacted her husband, simply blushed, put her hand over mouth, giggled, and said “He’s even sexier.” Mrs. Basnar quickly walked off before more detailed questions could be asked.
Other unusual behavior include Mr. Basnar hosting a Friday night Karaoke competition at Lakes Region Casino in Belmont, New Hampshire. He also gets a bit nervous around bright light, people much shorter than himself, and when biking through deserted rural roadways late at night.
It remains to be seen if this alleged experience can ever be proven to a scientific certainty. Basnar only hopes that the C.I.A. doesn’t try to use his new found superhuman tonal ability to target enemy weapon batteries. “I just don’t go for that military dip shit stuff,” Basnar exclaimed. “I’m a human being. If they can’t use dolphins to torpedo ships, then they sure as heck aren’t going to use me either.”
Basnar’s friends and the world at large can only wait and see if and how he will advance mankind’s knowledge of universal guitar tones.
Editor’s Note: This article will remain posted until this zine receives a letter from Mr. Basnar’s attorney.
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