PW-1. Spencer Scarcello
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to see that you come across as intelligent and well spoken. If you make a mistake, and we all do, you just say, ‘Can we do that again?’ Joyce very rarely gets through an entire interview without having to redo something. . . . No one is perfect.”
She then wrapped her arms around me, placed her cheek next to mine, and gave me a big hug.
“I feel better now,” I told her. “Thank you very much.”
Carol responded, “It’s me who should be thanking you.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Have you ever heard of Marty Talbert?”
“I love that guy,” I said. “I watched him for years on the six o’clock news.”
“Everybody loves Marty,” she said. “After many years as a successful anchor, he left to create Hard Facts. He held the position I have now,” she explained. “The show was number one in the ratings for that time slot and category, a whopping thirteen years in a row. Marty was amazing. He could get an interview with anyone: presidents, kings, movie stars. You name them and Marty could get them. He decided to retire a couple years ago, and I was promoted to the position. I worked my butt off seven days a week, called in every favor I could, but I just couldn’t measure up to my predecessor’s work. . . . Do you believe in God, Ral?”
“I’ve been a Christian since birth,” I answered.
“Me too,” she said. “And I believe you are the answer to my prayers. . . . I don’t know how to thank you.”
“The four million works for me,” I joked. We both laughed.
CHAPTER 3
THE TAPING
Someone peaked their head in the door and said, “They’re ready for you guys.”
“Tell them we will be right there,” Carol answered.
”One last thing,” she said. “Joyce thinks you are here solely for the Food Formula interview. I told her after she introduces you to ask how you came up with the formula. I know this seems a bit sneaky, but we want to get her reactions on tape when you tell your amazing story. Stuff like that is pure gold!”
We entered the studio by going through another security point. Joyce immediately came to meet me and said, “Of all the stories I have done over the years, this is the most exciting. I am truly very pleased to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I said.
“Let me introduce you around,” Joyce offered. She knew everyone’s name and all about them ― the camera people, sound engineers, everyone. The studio was state of the art. Other than the cameras, sound equipment, and monitors, I didn’t recognize anything. We sat down at a solid glass table with the most comfortable chairs I had ever been in.
“In a couple minutes we’ll be starting,” Joyce said. “Pretend it’s just you and me having a conversation over drinks. If you need a break or want to answer a question differently, just say, ‘Stop.’ We are very informal here and want you to feel as comfortable as possible.”
The lights suddenly went up, and from behind me I heard Peter Fallon, the director, say: “Okay, places everyone. At this point we will have just aired about forty-five minutes of the Food Formula story, and Joyce will introduce our guest, Mister Ralph Diamond. In three . . . two . . . one . . . ”
He then pointed at Joyce, who said, “Welcome back. Now the moment we have all been waiting for. It is my distinct pleasure to introduce the man that will end world hunger, Mister Ralph Diamond.”
“Thank you, Joyce,” I said. And as I thought of how much money people are paid for these types of interviews, I suddenly realized why everyone always says, as I did, “It’s a pleasure to be here. Please call me Ral.”
After a few get-to-know-you-type questions, she asked, “How did you come up with this formula ― are you a chemist?”
“Let me tell you a story,” I started. “My wife and I live on forty acres of wooded land in a rural area of Central California. I love riding around our property on my ATV and was doing so one day when I saw this.” I opened a large envelope and slid a photograph across the table to Joyce.
I continued, “As you can see, there is a large elliptically shaped translucent object sitting right in front of a fenced-in storage area. Since you can see right through it, notice the fence poles behind the form. They are ten feet apart and five feet high. Using them as a gauge, the object appears to be about fifty-five feet wide and fifteen feet high.
“I shut off my ATV and just sat there for several minutes trying to remember every little detail I possibly could. I had no idea what this thing was. I thought perhaps it was a methane gas bubble that came out of the ground, but it didn’t move or change shape. Then I thought it might be something experimental from a nearby military base. I had seen on TV where the military was experimenting with invisibility, and perhaps this was some type of flying craft, or even a UFO,” I concluded.
“Were you scared?” Joyce asked.
“No, just curious. I decided to go back to the house and get my camera. I had seen enough UFO documentaries to know you need to have evidence. Nothing is more frustrating than hearing someone say, ‘My son Billy and I watched this huge thing over our house for an hour and a half, then it just took off at a tremendous speed.’ ‘Damn!’ I would say to myself, ‘Didn’t either of you think to go in the house and get a camera?’ I was not going to be that person,” I said.
“I started up my ATV, turned around slowly, and headed toward the house, almost as if I thought I might scare it away with the engine noise. I returned, camera in hand and took a few pictures.” Then I paused, adding, “Well, perhaps this will explain it better.”
I put my index finger up to the side of my neck, pressed down, and removed a small round disk that was a brilliant greenish color and roughly the size of a dime.
“My God!” Joyce exclaimed. “Did you just pull that out of your neck? What is that?”
“It’s a recording device,” I replied.
“May I see it?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “I was warned by the people who gave this to me that this device was tuned to me and me alone. No one else can operate or even touch it without becoming violently ill. Let me show you how it works and everything will become clear.”
I set it on the table and touched the top of it with my index finger. A thin beam of white light shot up about three feet, stopped, and slowly came down while expanding outwardly into several colored concentric rings. Each was about two inches wide and spaced about an inch apart; there were ten rings in all. The outer ring was about three feet in diameter with the rest getting progressively smaller toward the center.
“That is absolutely beautiful!” Joyce said.
I glanced over at her face, and she had one of those looks of amazement that Carol had hoped to capture on tape. “It’s not just a lovely centerpiece,” I said jokingly. “It contains recordings of everything that happened to me from the time I took that picture until they brought me back.”
“You lost me,” Joyce said.
“I’m going to play the first recording and you will see what I am talking about,” I explained. “I have to warn you, though. This is like nothing you have ever experienced before. You will think you are actually there. You won’t be able to see anything you see now; we won’t even see each other. You will, however, be able to look all around, including up and down as if you are actually there.
“The recording will fill this entire studio, so I want to caution everyone not to try to walk around, as you might fall over something. If anyone feels uncomfortable or overwhelmed for any reason and wants me to stop the recording, just say so.”
As I reached forward with