ON THE PATH OF THE IMMORTALS

By Dr. Thomas R. Horn

Who could have known that, in 2012 when Cris Putnam and I released our best-selling book, Petrus Romanus: The Final Pope Is Here, we would be inundated with invitations from around the world to be on radio, television, and in print media? This included History Channel programs, Sid Roth’s It’s Supernatural, the Jim Bakker Show, and numerous others, mostly due to our accurate prediction—one year in advance—that Pope Benedict would resign the office of vicar, citing health reasons—an act that would be followed by the election of the final name on the ancient “Prophecy of the Popes” list—Petrus Romanus, or, as the world knows him today, Pope Francis. A documentary from WND Films followed that excitement, titled, “The Last Pope?” together with our even greater-selling work, Exo-Vaticana.

But it was a series of shows that we did with legendary radio man Steve Quayle on the Hagmann & Hagmann Report that really set the world abuzz, becoming the number-one Blog Talk Radio program on the planet and illustrating to these authors that the world was more than casually interested not only in the final pope, but in the connection between Rome and its work on extraterrestrial intelligence, astrobiology, and the intriguing connection between those issues and why the indigenous peoples of Arizona—especially the San Carlos Apache Tribe—had joined environmentalists in filing dozens of lawsuits before a federal appeals court to stop the construction of the observatories on Mount Graham. The project ultimately prevailed in favor of the Vatican and NASA after an act by the United States Congress ordered it, but the question remained in our mind: Why had the tribal communities fought so diligently against the construction of telescopes atop that mountain? We had wrongly assumed this was because Mount Graham was a sacred place—as in preceding generations of Native Americans had lived and died on it and therefore it was considered “holy ground.” We learned later that, while that was partially true, it was not the whole issue. Dził Nchaa Si An, as Mount Graham is known in the Western Apache language, is one of the four holiest mountains in the world for the Apache and is considered sacred to all of the region’s native peoples. And it is so because it is what we might call a “stargate” in their mythos, a portal through which “the Star People” have come since the dawn of time. Once we understood this fact, our suspicions as to why the Vatican and NASA had chosen this mountain in particular, even being willing to face a prolonged legal battle to build three telescopes on Mount Graham (including the largest binocular telescope in the world where the LUCIFER device is kept, as thoroughly disclosed in our book, Exo-Vaticana), went into hyperdrive.

We also came to learn that the San Carlos Apache have preserved ancient tales concerning this geography, including stories very similar to biblical chronology. These legends involve a creator, a deceiving dragon that follows, an epic flood, and even a race of giants known as the Jian-du-pids, who were judged and destroyed by God. These were the histories we had just started investigating as the deadline approached for our book Exo-Vaticana, and so we rushed just a bit of this deeper material into that work, including this excerpt:

According to the legend, a…race of…Indians called the Tuar-tums lived in the valley as peaceful farmers. They prospered until one day they were invaded by the Jian-du-pids, described as goliaths who used tree limbs for toothpicks. These Nephilim, led by a massive man named Evilkin, allegedly came from the Northeast and were headed south to their home beyond the Gulf of Baja. The giants nearly wiped out the Tuar-tums before they hid themselves underground in the mountains and Father Sun threw a huge fireball that seared the monstrous Nephilim into the scorched mountain rock. While elements of the tale are obviously mythological, it has a remarkable thematic coherence with Genesis 6.… The Apache Creation Myth [as we related it to the portal at Mt. Graham] is also interesting in this regard, as a particular version involves the “One Who Lives Above,” who descended in a flying disc [over the mountain] at the start of Creation. “In the beginning nothing existed—no earth, no sky, no sun, no moon, only darkness was everywhere,” the legend starts before noting that “suddenly from the darkness emerged a disc, one side yellow and the other side white, appearing suspended in midair. Within the disc sat a bearded man, Creator, the One Who Lives Above.”

While no single Apache Creation Myth dominates all tribal beliefs, most groups share key precepts as well as symbolism within their oral histories. Besides the creator who rides in a heavenly disc, a Dragon with the power of speech turns up, bargaining with men, as well as supernatural gateways associated with mountains (ch’íná’itíh) through which spirit beings can come.… Suffice it to say that these ancient native ideas involving flying discs, flying creators, spirit lights, owls, a talking dragon or great serpent, and even supernatural gateways tied to mountain ranges began long before the Vatican cast its eyes on Mt. Graham.[i]

Carl Olafsen following Tom Horn into one of the underworld gateway locations

Following this initial investigation and in media interviews since, we have been inundated by requests from hundreds of people asking that we continue this research, especially as it involves stories from around the world of specific geographic locations—very often tied to mountains—where intelligent beings have been reported for thousands of years traversing portals/stargates/wormholes. But to satisfy this request, one big problem was ahead, one we knew we would have to overcome. It would make us face the same type resistance the Vatican had come up against: distrust by American Indians who have been burned too many times by New-Age whackos who misreport their legends in order to make a buck. Mountain portals that are universally associated by tribes with deities, spirits, and history connected to Mount Graham and other locations are often deemed “holy” and unavailable to nontribal members. As a result, I was personally warned not to pursue these sacred locations where, in both modern and ancient times, “spirit lights” (UFOs?) have moved through the portals there, something that seems to contribute to the indigenous peoples’ attribution of “powers” and metaphysical phenomena. My team was further told we could be arrested and that our cameras and equipment would be seized. Given that the reservations have their own legal system and could represent a terrible situation for us if we wound up trying to get out of their jails, we determined the first thing we had to do was to get permission from the tribal nations themselves before venturing into restricted areas.

At first, all of our requests were rejected. We then began asking if we could hire guides from the reservations to take us into areas such as the ancient Anasazi (mysterious pre-Pueblo Indians that built hundreds of magnificent cliff-side dwellings along the Four-Corners area of the United States and who then disappeared “overnight” without explanation). That, too, was met with a negative response. Of course, if we wanted to just wait until spring, we could get a hiking permit from the National Forestry department and travel by foot into areas that are not cordoned off and that are available to the general public—but we wanted more than that.

Time slipped by as 2013 came and went, then 2014 was winding down and just when I was starting to think we would never get permission to visit the off-grid sites or to conduct actual interviews with tribal leaders, we launched SkyWatch TV and hired two investigators to join our team—Carl Olafsen and Allie Anderson. Because we wanted this new television enterprise (you can check it out online at www.SkyWatchTV.com) to do what no Christian broadcasting ministry had offered before—including investigative reports and full-length documentaries involving on-location and original field footage and research—Carl and Allie’s job would be to take the lead in opening doors to get us where most people are normally forbidden. They found this to be especially frustrating in this case, given the well-earned mistrust natives have of nontribal members in particular. Every time it seemed a door was about to open, it would slam shut. This happened partly because we were being forthright about our intentions: that we have a Christian and prophetic worldview and that we wanted to rebroadcast footage of the sacred locations and peoples under our investigation—all big no-no’s among most indigenous peoples. At one point, the Navaho Nation approved on the phone an interview we could have with a tribal elder (who had been a US military code talker and convert to Christianity whom I was anxious to meet), but later permission was withdrawn when the US government agreed to pay a $554-million-dollar settlement to the Navajo tribe to settle a legal dispute,[ii] which pulled all tribal elders into meetings and made them unavailable to our cause. Even so, our persistence would eventually pay off.

Meanwhile, around this same time, coauthor of this work, Cris Putnam, headed to Arizona with a guide and film crew of his own. As you will learn in the upcoming book based on this investigation (On The Path Of The Immortals), not only was he successful in chronicling the ancient and modern stories of portals and those who come through them, but Putnam even became an “orb” believer when, from two different camera angles, his crew filmed a luminous object zooming up behind them, flittering about erratically, then dissolving right before their eyes (this could not have been something on the lens, as it was filmed from two different camera angles, which we will show during the SkyWatch TV special report). The occurrence was followed by something even more astonishing: an enormous, V-shaped craft passing overhead, similar to the giant “Phoenix lights” that had been witnessed in 1997 by thousands of people across Nevada and Arizona, as well as the Mexican state of Sonora. This giant triangle, called the “Phoenix lights,” was the largest mass sighting of a UFO in modern history. It is also considered one of the most substantiated—not just because of the sheer number of witnesses, but because of the quality of their testimony. For instance, then-acting Governor Fife Symington testified in writing:

Between 8:00 and 8:30 on the evening of March 13, 1997, during my second term as governor of Arizona, I witnessed something that defied logic and challenged my reality: a massive, delta-shaped craft silently navigating over the Squaw Peak in the Phoenix Mountain preserve. A solid structure rather than an apparition, it was dramatically large, with a distinctive leading edge embedded with lights as it traveled the Arizona skies. I still don’t know what it was. As a pilot and a former Air Force officer, I can say with certainty that this craft did not resemble any man-made object I had ever seen.[iii]

Now, thanks to Cris Putnam, SkyWatch TV can broadcast images of a similar (or was it the same?) craft that decided to make an appearance for our crew on location. You will also see some “stills” of these images in Cris’ report in the upcoming book.

Cris Putnam in Sedona, Arizona—on the Path of the Immortals.

At the time Cris was returning from Arizona with this amazing photographic and film evidence of strange happenings there, my team under Carl Olafsen and Allie Anderson was just packing up to leave for the Four Corners area of the United States. It wasn’t much, but the Navajo Nation had agreed to let us interview Miss Navajo at their headquarters in Window Rock, Arizona. She was to tell us their creation story in both the native tongue and in English. If this “feeling out” process went well, it was possible we would get a sit-down with a tribal elder. From there, we would travel across the border to Montezuma County, Colorado, where a Cherokee guide would take us down into the canyons to see what was behind the forbidden gates we were warned not to go beyond under risk of arrestment and property seizure.

Even then, on that mild winter morning in February, 2015, as we packed our all-wheel-drive SUV for the off-roads adventure, we could hardly have realized how much more this trip would pay off, or the doors that were about to be opened and closed. At the last moment, Miss Navajo pulled out of her interview (it seemed to me she was too afraid) only to be replaced by a much bigger opportunity—one that is very rarely made available to the white man.

To the Navajo Nation…and Beyond the Gate

We began our trip driving up through the Rockies near Hesperus Mountain, the highest summit of the La Plata Mountains range. The prominent peak is located in San Juan National Forest, which would take us near the Town of Mancos in Montezuma County, Colorado. Hesperus is one of the Navajo People’s Sacred Mountains, and is called Dibé Ntsaa, which marks the northern boundary of the Dinetah, their traditional homeland and place of the Ute people. As we moved along these switchback roads, gaining elevation, occasionally there would be a break in the cedar trees, revealing wind-crested patches of snow reflecting the light of the midday sun. We discussed how the peaks of these mountaintops with sandstone formations at their tips could easily be used as places of concealment, observation, and defense—something we couldn’t help believe was strangely connected to the mysterious Anasazi and their “Alien Enemy” we had come here to investigate. As we discussed these possibilities while navigating a final switchback before our first destination, the drive suddenly became precarious, as lingering patches of ice clung to shadows on the asphalt and mule deer that had been feeding on the buffalo grass alongside the highway decided to cross the road in front of us, darting out from between the sagebrush and patches of snow. Carefully passing through that situation to the egress just beyond, we reached our assigned meeting place to find the Cherokee guide already waiting to take us behind the locked gates.

He was roughly five feet seven inches tall, with deep brown eyes, which studied us from under his wide-brimmed hat as we approached. His face, chiseled from too much sun exposure, hinted at what his forefathers’ classical Indian physique must have looked like with his long, black hair in the traditional ponytail. He extended a warm but small, brown-skinned hand, as Carl Olafsen greeted him with Yá’át.(“Hello” in Diné, the tongue of the Navajo.) Carl understood that “Yá’át’éh” is “Hello good friend,” but he had been advised not to be presumptuous and to keep it to the shorter greeting.

“Nah, it’s Yá’át’éh,” our guide corrected, smiling again and shaking Carl’s hand, embracing it with both of his as he laughed.

As we gathered our gear, including camera equipment, our guide put on a backpack and our cameraman adjusted for light. Moments later, we headed out on foot, listening to Carl as he continued practicing what little he knew of the native tongue while never quite matching how gently the Cherokee man’s consonant pronunciations fell upon the ears.

“My mother was English,” the guide told us. “And my father was Cherokee. My brothers have followed the Christian way of my mother. I have followed the path of my father.”

Tom Horn “on the path of the immortals” at ancient Anasazi ruins

The air was crisp but not too cold, with a light smell of cedars, as we set out along the course he would have us follow. While the team had thought it would be important for me to tag along, I intentionally strayed back a bit, letting Carl and Allie take the lead. This was my way of silently acknowledging any relationship we had with this man or the others we’d be meeting during this expedition as having begun with Mr. Olafsen and Mrs. Anderson—exactly what I had hired them to accomplish for SkyWatch TV. But it didn’t take long before I started rethinking that approach. Maybe I should narrow the gap for safety reasons, I thought to myself as the uneven route quickly required increasingly special care. The path was also getting steep, and I was puffing, struggling to keep up with my younger compatriots as I placed my bad leg carefully down along the safest parts of the trail. More than once I had to stick my hand out to steady myself, as loams of earth and plant life would slip away if I moved to close to the route’s edge. On one occasion, the cameraman right behind me must have slipped on ice, as suddenly his arms flailed, he teetered, then grasped at anything he could reach in order to catch his balance to avoid falling headlong over the hill. He captured a solid area with one foot, dug his heel in hard to correct himself, caught my shoulder, and used it to steady himself. I saw the expression on his face as he considered the incomprehensible river of rocks and brush he could have fallen into deep within the canyon below.

Just ahead of us after that was an avenue that stopped at a mountain head, and I could see the path we were following turned sharply to the right there. Where it would lead us beyond that was obscured by a mix of pine and juniper trees, yucca, serviceberry, choke-cherry and Gambel oak; buttresses of something artificial could be glimpsed through breaks in the trees carved out against the rock wall ahead.

As we moved toward it, our course widened, leveling off onto a plateau that temporarily provided an easier gait. We moved quickly along this section toward the narrow opening in the trees, then started uphill again over an area still spotted with patches of ice and snow.

Eventually, the hillside steepened again and the trail zigzagged. I found myself dragging once more up the precipitous route, struggling to lift my weight, grunting and scaling the arduous hill like the old man that I am, until soon I really was physically spent. I paused, dropped my forehead against my arm, wiped the precipitous sweat from my brow, rested a few seconds, then pressed on until my heart pounded so hard that I thought it would explode. Breathing raspy, chugging the cool mountain air with increasingly painful gulps, I started questioning in my mind whether the demands of this mountainous trip were simply more than I had bargained for.

Then, something happened. We rounded a bend in the path and caught our first glimpse of something very huge and artificial coming into view a few hundred feet away, the magnificence of which instantly reenergized my resolve. In fact, all of the team members who had been ahead of me and the cameraman had stopped at that point and were waiting for us. They were in awe, as were we.

Credit to Skywatch.com