Hi Intysam and Courtney!
Thanks for all of your hard work. I’ve been following you now for some time and am really enjoying the platform!
I’m a film producer/ Writer /Director.
(M. D. Selig on IMDB) with previous shows on Showtime, Netflix, and currently on Amazon prime. (I’ll put a link at the end of this)
I’m currently working on a project dealing with the early evil of the Majestic-12 and how on April 22, 1949, they threw former Secretary of defense, James Forestall, out the 16th floor window of the Bethesda military hospital for threatening to go public with the new alien phenomenon. (most likely a CIA kill team with a Maj ordered hit)
Everyone knows James didn’t commit suicide, as he had just been granted release by the courts after being held seven long weeks against his will and his brother was coming to pick him up that same morning.
He had been in great spirits according to an orderly that was with him up until midnight on the night of his death He simply didn’t jump on his own.
He was also a dear friend of the new senator from Massachusetts, John F Kennedy, and the two were known to have discussed the new alien situation to friends and even members of the opposition party.
It’s even documented in the majestic briefs from 1950 (Allen Dulles was Maj-1 at the time)
“ The untimely death of James Forrestal was necessary, but regrettable.” ( only an arrogant madman like Allen Dulles would put that out in a majestic brief)
So, any chance we would see James Forestall’s assassination as a target anytime soon?
It would be fascinating to know how large that kill team was? One person or perhaps four or five? (at that time, there would’ve been a laundry and containment team) meaning; a team that threw him out the window, and a second team, down on the third-floor extension, that would have insured he was positively dead before they walked away. (was the kill team, dressed in medical outfits, orderly outfits, etc.)
There were scuff marks identified outside the window, where James supposedly kicked against the building (As he was hanging by his neck) before his sash was cut and he dropped. There was also broken glass from his water glass found on the carpet (most likely a fight) (James was a tenacious boxer in college) and then quickly sanitized before the public photographers came up to his room)
Forestall was the first public figure who would lose his life for trying to tell the truth… (The government has never released pictures of his mangled body on the third floor extension, and also the pictures of his room where there was obviously a fight before he was tossed out the kitchen window of the room across the hall.
His friend John Kennedy would be done in by the same group in 1963. (CIA , MaJ-12, Dulles, Angelton etc)
Anyway, I just thought I would check in to see as I know 1 million people are interested in this story.
Thanks again for all your hard work! I’ve watched so many of your shows!.
“The Gunrunner Billy Kane”, is my Sci Fy Pilot on Amazon prime. I Wrote/directed starred, and was the showrunner.
Let’s be in touch and certainly you have my email in your system so feel free to contact me that way and I’d be happy to give you more information.
Sincerely,
Michael David Selig
Big Sur, California
Here’s a little snippet of the project. I’m working on as it relates to the death of James Forstall but as you can see, it would be greatly enhanced by the work you do.
Sunday, April 22, 1949. Bethesda Naval Hospital, Maryland. 0150 hours
The horror was upon him. The American government would eventually name an aircraft carrier in his honor. And buildings too. When the CIA kill team threw him out the 16th floor window of the Bethesda Naval Hospital, they knew the former U.S. Secretary of Defense, James Forrestal, was not dead.
His bath robe sash was knotted tightly around his neck, so that he could not scream, because suicides never screamed. And this kill teams’ specialty was death by suicide.
The other end of the sash around his neck was tied below the window to a steel radiator-style heater, which abruptly stopped his fall only five feet below the windowsill, hanging him by the neck.
But James Forrestal was a fighter, if any man ever was one, a true patriot, who fought against that sash and attempted to pull himself up, kicking the exterior wall of the hospital, flailing and wheezing, looking up towards the dark windowsill.
The hit team had left the kitchen dark so no one on the ground would notice four men hurling another man out the window with a robe sash knotted tightly around his neck.
The leader of the covert kill squad, the CIA containment team, was Damon Slepher, a brilliant former O.S.S. man whose ruthless but efficient manner of assassination saw him rise quickly through the counter-intelligence circles during the war.
He was still a young 38 with slicked back hair, and though fluent in German and Russian, he brandished a hint of childhood Jersey, mafioso accent. He leaned out the window and lit a cigarette, watching as James Forrestal kicked against the building, trying to pull himself back up the sash, but he barely could get air to climb.
James wheezed harder trying to get even the smallest amount of oxygen, almost dead, but still fought as he had been a tenacious boxer in college and was not someone to quit.
Slepher exhaled smoke through his nose, watching in the dark night as Forrestal pulled, trying to take the pressure off his neck, but his energy was almost gone from lack of air, his feet still kicking but just barely. Slepher leaned down and whispered to the dying man.
“Hey Secretary Forrestal, what are your kids gonna think when you commit suicide?”
This pissed off James and he fought to pull himself up, air or no air, while Slepher sucked his teeth and continued in a whisper.
“Will be awful for them, but I guess you don’t have to worry because either way, everyone’s gonna read the newspaper of your suicide and see you as a hero…you know…one who just lost his way at the very end.”
James was only inches away, reaching his hand up to the sill when Slepher lowered his switchblade and calmly sawed the sash just above James’ hand.
“Well James, loose lips, sink ships…and we can’t have that.”
The switchblade cut the final strand and James’ body dropped, flipping end over end, as he plunged gaining speed, and in those extreme seconds, there was, unbelievably, time to think.
The spring night, so refreshing at this end of his wild ride to the highest office in the history of the U.S. Navy. He had everything just two months ago. His amazing family, his two boys and Jo his faithful wife and he was at the top of his game.
And as the night wind came to a standstill, just a second before impact; that moment in time where people always say, when they are in extremis, that time seems to stand still…and it did, for James Forrestal.
As he fell, he knew his only mistake is that he wanted to tell the truth. He felt it was his patriotic duty to let the public know about the new alien presence. He had discussed this in secret meetings with his friend and new senator from Massachusetts, John F. Kennedy. And James had also mentioned it to members of the opposition party.
And now in the split-second before death, James had the thought that he mistakenly believed he was above the Majestic-12 group, that he had helped create only two years before in 1947.
President Harry Truman had asked James to form an above-top-secret team to handle the new alien phenomenon. A matter of National Security, because the aliens were invading America’s airspace like never before and the U.S. military had no way to stop them.
Truman and his administration figured the public would riot if they understood that America was not in control of the skies above them, and Harry was determined to not let chaos ensue, especially on the heels of The Great Depression.
Since the first alien saucer recovery off the south-sea island of Saipan in 1941 and subsequent Cape Girardeau, Missouri crash, several individuals who wanted to tell the public what they saw had committed suicide.
Some were self-inflicted gunshot wounds, and some had hung themselves. A few had industrial accidents or drove their cars off bridges. So many sudden suicides in the little town of Cape Girardeau, Missouri, that the local population began to whisper about military involvement as many of the suicides were upstanding people who had no reason to commit suicide.
And these strange deaths had continued wherever an alien crash recovery took place, to include the 1947 Roswell saucer recoveries where several civilians has seen live aliens and then began to whisper about the military conspiracy to hide the truth; just before their odd deaths and disappearances.
In those early crash retrieval events, James was briefed on all unfortunate but necessary erasures that had taken place. The covert death squads were imbedded in the newly created Inter-Planetary-Phenomenon Units (IPU teams) which were 200-man units specifically set up to locate and recover crashed alien ships.
The IPU teams consisted of a scientific team, a recovery team and counter-intelligence team which included the covert containment and laundry squads.
They ensured that any civilians who had witnessed the crashed UFOs were interrogated with warnings and if those stern actions didn’t do the trick, the individuals were deemed untrustworthy and terminated.
And though James was uncomfortable with those erasures in the early crash events, James had agreed with Truman that the phenomenon needed to remain secret until America figured out what the hell the aliens wanted as the U.S. certainly did not have the technology to stop them.
Yet only months later, the Aztec Mexico crash of 1948, brought with it a human -ooking alien survivor named Setimus who became the first covert Truman sanctioned alien Ambassador to the US. Kept in a secluded Top Secret army base in Vermont, Setimus met with Truman, Forrestal, Eisenhower and a few other select military officials.
James Forrestal being a religious man was really thrown while contemplating Setimus’ claims that aliens had actually been coming to Earth before the dawn of homo sapiens.
And for James, it quickly became apparent that all the Christian origin stories he had memorized as a kid and believed in, were just that, stories, and nothing more. And that was a lot for a man of such devout faith.
But unlike the others in the grave, already who were threatening to expose the new alien presence, James was Secretary of Defense, and in his new religious turmoil, he somehow forgot his position and decided to let Harry Truman know that the public should be informed about the new alien phenomenon. As if James was the president himself.
But James wasn’t the president, Harry was. And Harry was hard as a goddamn stone and had dropped two atomic bombs incinerating 400,000 innocent Japanese civilians.
James Forrestal was not about to survive his sudden intentions to inform the world that America was now beginning diplomatic communications with various alien races.
On March 28th, 1949, James was removed from office and given a send-off by Harry Truman with a formal reception where he was hailed as A loyal fellow.
James departed the send-off in a limousine accompanied by the new Secretary of the Air Force, Stuart Symington who informed Forrestal that he was under house arrest for his intentions to inform the public of the alien presence.
“James, we will keep your arrest a secret and the public will never know, but any moves to further your agenda of informing the public will result in your ultimate demise.”
James was escorted the next day to see his wife in Florida and then forcibly taken north to Bethesda on April 2nd against his will under the false pretense of suddenly becoming e suicidal and needing psychological care.
He attempted to depart the vehicle while it was in motion on the way to Bethesda sensing the darkness in store for him.
The Mental Instability incarceration was the brainchild of the CIA’s rising madman, Allen Dulles who worked with Frank Wisner and James Angleton to assemble the covert kill team. Their idea was to isolate Forrestal away from any possibility of communication with the press or the outside world.
A simple plan and it came with the perfect deniability that allowed the CIA to keep its hands clean while spoon-feeding the press the exact headlines America would read.
“Forrestal had become suicidal after being fired and had to be admitted for his own safety.”
It was illegal as hell, but in 1949, the press didn’t question the CIA or President Truman about matters of staff and senior administration officials.
Truman and his most trusted advisor, Sidney Sours, even tried to reason with James during his house arrest inside Bethesda Hospital, advising him to let go of his desire to tell the public. Even Lyndon Baines Johnson, an imposing Texan congressman, came by uninvited to physically threaten James.
But James showed political antipathy toward each visitor as he knew his brother Henry had secured his release and he would be free in only a few more hours. He had been held seven long weeks against his will and the courts had ruled in his favor.
The kill team, upon arriving at James’ room at 1:45 A.M. found him sleeping peacefully. The team positioned themselves around Forrestal and on Slepher’s signal, four of them held one limb apiece.
The moment James awoke, he raised his head and immediately was strangled by his own sash at the hands of Slepher and all Forrestal’s limbs were held tightly…but he kicked as he squirmed.
To James’ credit…he managed to get one leg free and kick the table with his glass of water which went into the air and came back down shattering glass on the bed and the floor.
The watch-nurse around the corner, stood when she heard the sound, but was immediately confronted by the new orderly Harrison, who was also a member of the kill team.
“Nurse, you shouldn’t go around the corner.”
She stared back and then realized that this new orderly, Robert Wayne Harrison had the eyes of a killer, not a naval Corpsman. And so, she sat and listened in horror to the commotion around the corner, as they carried the struggling Forrestal out of his room and across the hall to the open kitchen window.
The sash was secured to the heater and on a cue, all four men holding James, shoved him out feet-first, so that the last thing going out was his head.
Tied tightly to the heater, with the sash knotted around his neck, James’ body quickly reached the end of its leash. His body then slammed with a whump, as hanging bodies do, but James was quick, and since his hands and legs were free for his suicide fall, he was able to fight against his own body weight.
Then Slepher said what he said and cut James’ sash.
Now in his absolute final moment, James Forrestal realized that his sons and wife would never know that he had not committed suicide and that he loved them beyond words and he would kill the fuckers who had just killed him, if he had the chance, and then he impacted.
His body slammed with a building-shaking smack into the concrete roof of the third-floor extension, and then bounced several feet, spraying blood and viscera before it came back down on the concrete with a final thud.
Someone inside the hospital on the third floor screamed, but nobody knew what had happened; not yet anyway. Within seconds, the lower kill team members, the laundry team, who had been waiting to ensure Forrestal was dead, raced out in the darkness to the bloody, twisted body.
And still, somehow, in his mangled, face-down impact crater, James’ broken torso still had a pulse.
The leader of the laundry team, raised James’ broken head by the hair and proceeded to slam his face into the concrete, caving in the skull and then the laundry team calmly walked away. Moments later at 1:50 AM, hospital staff who had felt and heard the thumps of the falling body, came out a service door onto that dark rooftop. Female nurses and male orderlies could see a form…and then blood and the screams began.
Rising in those screams for James Forrestal was The Majestic-12, an elitist group of American men taking their power seat above the President whose office had just been bypassed with the assassination of James Forrestal.
Hidden from public view, but with an absolute stranglehold on every administration moving forward, the power-hungry group would forever change the destiny of the planet without any public oversight and far beyond Presidential or Congressional control.
In one fell swoop, “the MAJI” had become the true power in America and would award alien technology to private military contractors worldwide in exchange for absolute obedience and secrecy. They were the American arm of a worldwide Cabal that controlled the planet. They were the Deep State.
