It was a joy to put together each issue. Wisp began six years ago (September 2014). Now, due to dwindling subscriptions, I’ve reached the point where I cannot justify the cost of mailing and printing. I really don’t want to stop Wisp because it’s a joy to produce and it gives joy to its readers.

Hopefully, you will be relieved to know that The Star Beacon will continue. Although it struggles with costs as well, TSB is holding its own and pays for itself as far as postage and printing goes. It has never supported the hours and effort I have put into it -- which is why I have an outside job, even in my retirement years. I’ve always believed that TSB is my mission and I’m dedicated to its continuation.

There are so many faithful subscribers, some who have been with me since the beginning, back in April 1987. At that time there were hardly any publications on UFOs. More cropped up in the ensuing years, but most of them have now quit. One exception is The Gate to Strange Phenonema, put out by Beth Robbins in Ohio. She has been publishing as long, if not longer, than TSB! Her little publication is packed with interesting stories.

It just shows that people remain interested in unexplained aerial phenomena, beings from beyond our world, and concepts of other dimensional beings. And in 2020 it appears that a topic that was once pooh-poohed by newscasters and smothered in newsrooms because it was too "far out" is now out in the open. Satellite TV brings the subject of aliens and UFOs right into our living rooms with "Ancient Aliens" and other fascinating shows, including "Bluebook" on the History channel, based on J. Allen Hynek’s work.

Fox News’ Tucker Carlson talks about UFOs openly on his evening weekday show and brings on credible professionals and military researchers to talk about what was once a taboo subject in the media. I was disappointed some time ago when one of my subscribers "chewed me out" for mentioning Tucker’s interest in UFOs in the DISC-ussion column. She chastised me for watching Fox News! As if that was the worst thing in the world a publisher of metaphysical subjects could ever do.

At the time I thought ... WTF? This woman, whom I befriended and stayed with during a trip several years ago, had a Ph.D and was an author, and here she was criticizing me because I regularly watch a news program on a cable channel that she doesn’t politically agree with.

Well ... I responded via email. I couldn’t help it, I had to point out a few other things that maybe she wasn’t aware of, which I won’t go into here ... but I never heard from her again, which is just as well, and I will always be grateful to her for the work she has done and the kindness she once showed to me.

Purposely, I avoid any political views in this newsletter. If you have eyes to see, ears to hear, and you know in your heart and soul that falsehoods, violence and killing (yes ... fetuses included) are wrong, then you should be able to make up your own minds about our current world and what kind of a future we face. Fear and propaganda are not of the Light. Love and compassion are.

I forgive my former subscriber and friend for trying to shame me because I reported on something I did not consider controversial. She has as much right as anyone else to speak out, of course, but it works both ways, and I object when someone tries to silence me over a political opinion. Cancel culture is bogus and not something we should tolerate, especially when the truth about UFOs and ETs is upon us at long last.

I celebrate the wealth of information coming forth. I also believe that Planet Earth is going through all this turmoil right now in its cleansing, in order to bring forth an enlightened populace from which the truth about our cosmic roots and relations can bring about unity, prosperity and once again respect for one another.

Do not despair. Things appear on our TV screens that are not necessarily reality and are often blown out of proportion to promote ratings or reflect the philosophy of those who are in control.

Spooky never showed any aggression to another animal. He never snarled at any of the other cats and he never caused a ruckus. I referred to him as the "black knight of the watch" because he was always on the lookout for intruders or trouble.

Spooky took it upon himself to watch over the new batch of kittens that Mama Cat had last fall. The kittens played with him and showed a lot of affection toward him. He tolerated their rough play. However, I knew that once Spooky turned a year old, he would have to be neutered and I prayed that I would be able to trap him as I had Cami, and get him to the vet before the neighborhood tom (his father) tried to drive him away.

At the beginning of June I noticed that Spooky’s testicles had descended. A couple of days later he disappeared. I kept waiting for him to return, thinking perhaps his hormones were urging him to wander. I knew it was vital to get him to the vet and regretted that I hadn’t been able to take him in sooner to get castrated, due to COVID-19.

But when he didn’t return, I mourned his loss, especially after Pete, the old tom, showed up all bloodied. I assumed Pete had attacked Spooky and there had been a nasty fight. Then, as more time passed, I realized that Spooky must have been badly injured and had likely died.

Cami, meanwhile, appeared lonely, so I tried to give her more attention. I kept thinking of Spooky, but had given up on the idea he might still be alive. I had a vision of him sitting on my back patio, looking in on me. He appeared in my dreams.

Then, on Friday evening of my birthday (July 17), I had just ended a phone conversation with my oldest son. It was after sunset as I strolled out of the kitchen and passed the sliding doors that go out to my patio. Suddenly, there ... sitting on the porch and looking in at me was ... SPOOKY!

I couldn’t believe it! Spooky, my black knight of the watch, was staring in at me. I burst into tears of joy and opened the door to welcome him. Of course he didn’t come inside, but I stepped out and told him how happy I was to see him.

I figured he was hungry. He was a bit thinner than before. I went inside and fixed him a small dish of food, along with a small dish of milk. Spooky, unlike Cami, loved a little bit of milk. He poked his nose at the food, but drew away. He did lap up a bit of the milk, however. Then I went inside to call Doug and tell him the news.

It was a miracle that Spooky came home on my birthday! I wished he could have told me what had happened to him. I wished I could have communicated with him the way Suzanne Ward does with animals. The next day he was still there with Cami. He came and went, and I spent that night at Doug’s house, then returned Sunday morning. Spooky appeared after a short time, but he didn’t look too good. He was weak. He wouldn’t eat. It was also terribly hot outside and he slunk slowly over under the bush next to my patio.

I spent a good portion of that day checking on him. I even plugged in a fan and let the cool air blow gently over him under the bushes. I would talk to him and he’d occasionally look weakly up at me with those sad yellow eyes. I prayed hard that day for him to recover. I made up my mind to get him to the vet, if I could. Doug came over to eat that evening. Around 7:00 I went out to check on Spooky ... and he had passed away.

We buried his body that night in Doug’s backyard since mine is xeriscaped. I cried so hard. I mourned for him like no other animal I’ve ever had. He was the most spiritual pet I’ve ever known ... and he came home, I believe, because he knew he was going to die, and he wanted me to know.

I just know he is "over there" now, romping on hillsides and enjoying his new life in spirit.

Ann Ulrich Miller, publisher of The Star Beacon, writes from western Colorado.

by Ann Carol Ulrich

Tim finally gets around to asking Annette to prom, but then Detective Brennan from the R.P.D. intercedes and suggests the two of them participate in a sting operation at the school. Prom Night turns out to be another exciting adventure for the students at Ravensville High School, and a surprise awaits Annette when Tim takes her home after the dance. ORDER YOUR COPY