Who was the Christ-like figure that walked ancient America?
The Pale Prophet who visited the Americas in the first century A.D. certainly knew how to make an entrance the people would never forget. And the full story is told in what I, as the author, believe to be an exciting new book titled “The Search for the Pale Prophet in Ancient America,” published by my associate Tim Beckley’s Global Communications. Beckley is now co-hosting, along with Tim R. Swartz, the podcast “Exploring the Bizarre” on the KCOR Digital Radio Network.
According to ancient native lore, when the Fair God first arrived at the Polynesian Islands it was with three ships with giant sails like enormous birds with wings uplifted, glowing goldenly in the dawn light. The people watching the events were frozen to immobility.
“What manner of monsters are these with the great wings?” they asked in awe.
“Perhaps they have come to devour the people!” shouted one native.
Then the islanders saw something white moving toward them, apparently from the Great Birds. The white object glided easily over the water “with the rhythmical ease of a man walking.”
“As the spot of white came closer,” writes anthropologist L. Taylor Hansen, “they saw in amazement that this was a Fair God, manlike in form but unlike their people. Soon they could see Him clearly, the gold of the dawn light shining around Him, making a halo of His long curling hair and beard. As He came up on the wet sand, the warriors stared in fright at His garments; they were dry. Now they knew that a god stood among them, for none but gods can walk on water!”
Putting aside for the time being the idea that we’re dealing here with Jesus Christ himself, again displaying his ability to walk on water as recorded in the Christian Gospels, what we have here is a classic example of the “ancient astronauts” approach to the flying saucer mystery. A relatively primitive indigenous culture is confronted with what may be technological marvels that the natives ascribe to “gods” with abilities far beyond their comprehension. The ships with sails like huge birds with wings uplifted, for one, may be an attempt to describe a kind of flying craft that wasn’t some form of a “boat” at all.
But none of the great “ancient astronauts” researchers, from Erich von Daniken to Zechariah Sitchin to Brinsley LePoer Trench, have ever covered the same territory as the late anthropologist L. Taylor Hansen, who spent decades traveling among the Native-Americans and collecting their legends regarding the Healer, the Prophet, the Miracle Worker, God of the Dawn Light, the Wind God, the Teacher, the White-Robed Master. Although the names are different, the legends are chanted and sung the same.
Very little is known about L. Taylor Hansen, who died in 1976. One thing that is known, however, is that her first name was Lucile, which she shortened to “L” so that she could pass herself off as a man, at least in literary terms. In 1918, while still a college student, she spent her summer vacation with the Chippewa Indian tribe in Michigan. According to writer Bette Stockbauer, who provides some of the scant biographical material available on Hansen, this interest was more than scholarly. The Chippewa’s language and dances, their culture and religion, struck a richly harmonic chord in Hansen’s soul.
Dark Thunder, the Chippewa chief, shared with young Hansen much of the tribal knowledge and told her of a Holy Man who had visited the tribe in long ago times. This man came to the Native Americans when their empire was united and their great cities stretched for miles. Wherever the Holy Man went, the miracles followed, and always He spoke of the Kingdom of His Father.
“In this brief story,” Stockbauer writes, “Hansen sensed the germ of one much greater. That summer, a council of many tribes was called to tell the young lady the holy legends. Her own gift to the council would be a book that would preserve their words for future seekers. Thus was born ‘He Walked the Americas,’ a book pursued over two continents, during the course of 45 years.”
At the Indian council meeting, Hansen was charged with the mission of recording the legends of the Pale Prophet for posterity. But in the meantime, in order to meet her expenses, she sold science fiction stories to pulp magazines, disguising herself as a man so she could succeed in a field completely dominated by the male element. In the 1940s, she was given space for a regular column in “Amazing Stories,” a sci-fi pulp magazine, to air her nonfiction views on the current state of anthropology and archaeology. Ray Palmer, the magazine’s legendary editor, not only published her “Scientific Mysteries” columns, he would also eventually publish “He Walked the Americas” in 1963 through his Amherst Press company and thus is an important figure in the overall story as well.
All of the foregoing is contained in “The Search for the Pale Prophet in Ancient America.” In the first section of the book, I summarize and quote from Hansen’s “He Walked the Americas” as well as adding my own Biblical insights and correlations not present in the original text of Hansen’s groundbreaking work.
I think perhaps Hansen felt she was writing for the more “Biblically-literate” audience of her own time, or maybe she felt that the Biblical correlations were so obvious that they didn’t need to be spelled out for the reader. In any case, I DID spell them out, and I hope it makes understanding the legends of the Pale Prophet a little easier. The more overt relationship of the legends to the Gospels will be dealt with in a separate article.
Tribal memories of Flying Saucers
Let us now return to the “ancient astronauts” view and the aforementioned essays by Hansen. In a piece called “Tribal Memories of the Flying Saucers,” reprinted in full in the new Global Communications release, Hansen disguises herself as a Navaho Indian named Oga-Make. But the style of the writing is unmistakably her own even as she hides behind one of her known pen names, an identity that is again male along with being a pseudonymous Native American. This is the price she had to pay in the pre-feminist years of the late 1940s, when the essay was originally published.
“Most of you reading this,” the essay begins, “are probably white men of a blood only a century or two out of Europe. You speak in your papers of the Flying Saucers or Mystery Ships as something new and strangely typical of the twentieth century. How could you but think otherwise? Yet if you had red skin, and were of a blood which had been born and bred of the land for untold thousands of years, you would know this is not true.
“You would know,” the essay continues, “that your ancestors, living in these mountains and upon these prairies for numberless generations, had seen the ships before and had passed down the story in the legends which are the unwritten history of your people. You do not believe? Well, after all, why should you? But knowing your scornful unbelief, the storytellers of my people have closed their lips in bitterness against the outward flow of this knowledge.
“Yet, I have said to the storytellers this: now that the ships are being seen again, is it wise that we, the elder race, keep our knowledge to ourselves? Thus, for me, an American Indian, some of the sages among my people have talked, and if you care to, I shall permit you to sit down with us and listen.”
Oga-Make/Hansen then shifts to a dialogue with the aged chief of the Paiute tribe.
The chief begins by saying: “You ask me if we had heard of the great silver airships in the days before the white man brought his wagons into the land. We, the Paiute nation, have known of these ships for untold generations. We also believe that we know something of the people who fly them. They are called The Hav-musuvs.”
The flying saucer occupants, the Hav-musuvs, first came to the area in large rowing ships before the land became a dry desert. After the waters dried and the rowing ships were no longer of use to them, they created “flying canoes,” which grew to become large silver ships with wings. The Have-musuvs built a city in the nearby caverns, where they dwelt in peace and were far removed from the bloody warfare of the other local violently combative tribes.
“Have you ever seen a Hav-musuv?” Oga-Make/Hansen asked.
“No, but we have many stories of them,” the chief replied. “There are reasons why one does not become too curious. These strange people have weapons. One is a small tube which stuns one with a prickly feeling like a rain of cactus needles. One cannot move for hours, and during this time the mysterious ones vanish up the cliffs. The other weapon is deadly. It is a long silvery tube. When this is pointed at you, death follows immediately.”
The chief described the appearance of the Hav-musuvs.
“They are a beautiful people,” he said. “Their skin is a golden tint, and a headband holds back their long dark hair. They dress always in a white fine-spun garment which wraps around them and is draped upon one shoulder. Pale sandals are worn upon their feet.”
The chief tells a fascinating legend said to have happened many years before the coming of the Spanish. A Paiute chief lost his bride to sudden death. In his overwhelming grief, he went seeking the Hav-musuvs in order that they put him out of his misery with their deadly silver tube. As the mournful chief climbed the last mountain on his quest, one of the men in white appeared suddenly before him, brandishing the silver tube and motioning the chief back. The chief made signs that he wished to die and continued onward. Then others of the Hav-musuvs appeared and decided to take the chief with them.
Many weeks after his people had mourned him for dead, the Paiute chief came back to his camp. He had been in the giant underground valley of the Has-musuvs, he said, where white lights which burn day and night and never go out, or need any fuel, lit an ancient city of marble beauty. There he learned the language and history of the mysterious people, giving them in turn the language and legends of the Paiutes. He would have been content to stay among them forever in the peace and beauty of their life, but they bade him return and use his new knowledge for the people.
Oga-Make/Hansen then asks the current Paiute chief if he believed the story.
“I do not know,” the old man replied. “When a man is lost in Tomesha [a particularly forbidding stretch of hostile desert], and the Fire-God is walking across the salt crust, strange dreams, like clouds, fog through his mind. No man can breathe the hot breath of the Fire-God and long remain sane. This has always been a land of mystery. Nothing can change that. I must still answer your question with doubt in my mind, for we speak of a weird land. White man does not yet know it as well as the Paiutes, and we have ever held it in awe. It is still the forbidden ‘Tomesha – Land of the Flaming Earth.’”
The short essay by Oga-Make/Hansen wonderfully embodies much classic “ancient astronauts” lore as well as timeless legends of a paradise hidden within the earth, which was also spoken of by the Tibetan seer T. Lobsang Rampa and many others. (Global Communications offers several of Rampa’s titles to those seeking further enlightenment on the universal legends of Shangri-La.)
In any case, “The Search for the Pale Prophet in Ancient America” opens the reader to a whole new treasure trove of possible alien visitations to a land and a people long thought of as backward and savage. The Lord of Wind and Water and his civilizing influence on Native America is echoed not only in the Gospels but in the stories of ancient Sumer, Egypt and Babylon, who had uniformly credited gods from the sky with the beginnings of their organized societies. That that same helping hand also came to the ancient Americas, while generally acknowledged to be true, has never been told in quite the same way as it has by L. Taylor Hansen in “The Search for the Pale Prophet in Ancient America.”