made a third visit, on April 5, 1989 —this time down a long road leading into the base called Groom Lake Road — which ended in fiasco. The trespassers were discovered by Area 51 security guards, detained, and required to show ID. They answered questions for the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department and were let go.
The following day, Lazar reported to work at the EG&G building at
McCarran Airport. He was met by Dennis Mariani, who informed Lazar that he would not be going out to Groom Lake as planned. Instead, Lazar was driven to Indian Springs Air Force Base. The guard who had caught him the night before was helicoptered in from the Area 51 perimeter to confirm that Bob Lazar was one of the four people found snooping in the woods the night before. Lazar was told that he was no longer an employee of EG&G and if he ever went anywhere near Groom Lake again, alone or with friends, he would be arrested for espionage.
During his questioning at Indian Springs, he was allegedly given transcripts of his wife’s telephone conversations, which made clear to Lazar that his wife was having an affair. Lazar became convinced he was being followed by government agents. Someone shot out his tire when he was driving to the airport, he said. Fearing for his life, he decided to go public with his story and contacted Eyewitness News anchor George Knapp. Lazar’s TV appearance in November of 1989 broke the station’s record for viewers, but the original audience was limited to locals. It took some months for Lazar’s story to go global. The man responsible for that happening was a Japanese American mortician living in Los Angeles named Norio Hayakawa.
Decades later, Norio Hayakawa still recalls the moment he first heard Lazar on the radio. “It was late at night,” Hayakawa explains. “I was working in the mortuary and listening to talk radio. KVEG out of Las Vegas, ‘The Happening Show,’ with host Billy Goodman. Remember, this was in early 1990, long before Art Bell and George Noory were doing ‘Coast to Coast,’” Hayakawa recalls. “I heard Bob Lazar telling his story about S-Four and I became intrigued.” As Hayakawa toiled away at the Fukui Mortuary in Little Tokyo, he listened to Bob Lazar talk about flying saucers. Having no television experience, Hayakawa contacted a Japanese magazine called Mu, renowned for its popular stories about UFOs. “Mu got in touch with me right away and said they were interested. And that Nippon TV was interested too.” In a matter of weeks, Japan’s leading TV station had dispatched an eight-man crew from Tokyo to Los Angeles. Hayakawa took them out to Las Vegas, where he’d arranged for an interview with Bob Lazar. That was in February of 1990.
“We went on a Wednesday because that was the day we’d heard on the radio they did flying saucer tests,” Hayakawa recalls. “We interviewed Lazar for three or four hours. He was a strange person. He had bodyguards with him in his house who followed him around everywhere he went. But we were satisfied with the interview. We decided to try and film some of the saucer activity at Area 51.” Hayakawa asked Lazar if he would take them to the lookout point on Tikaboo Mountain off Highway 375. Lazar declined but told them exactly where to go and at what time. “We went to the place and set up our equipment. Lo and behold, just after sundown, a bright orangeish light came rising up off the land near Groom Lake. We were filming. It came up and made a fast directional change. This happened three times. We couldn’t believe it,” Hayakawa says. At the time, he was convinced that what he saw was a flying saucer — just like Lazar had said.
Hayakawa showed the footage to the magazine’s bosses in Japan, who were thrilled. The TV station had paid Lazar a little over five thousand dollars for a two-hour segment about his experience at Area 51. Part of the deal was that Lazar was going to fly to Tokyo with Norio Hayakawa to do a fifteen-minute interview there. Instead, just a few days before the show, Lazar called the director of Nippon TV and said federal agents were preventing him from leaving the country. Lazar agreed to appear on the show via telephone and answered questions from telephone callers instead. “The program aired in Japan’s golden hour,” Hayakawa says, “prime time.” Thirty million Japanese viewers tuned in. “The program introduced Japan to Area 51.”
As Lazar’s Area 51 story became known around the world, Bob Lazar the person was scrutinized by a voracious press. Every detail of his flawed background was aired as dirty laundry for the public to dissect. It appeared he’d lied about where he went to school. Lazar said he had a degree from MIT, but the university says it had no record of him. In Las Vegas, Lazar was arrested on a pandering charge. It didn’t take long for him to disappear from the public eye. But Bob Lazar never changed his story about what he saw at Area 51’s S-4. Had Lazar witnessed evidence of aliens and alien technology? Was
his discrediting part of a government plot to silence him? Or was he a fabricator, a loose cannon who perceived what he saw as an opportunity for money and fame? He sold the film rights to his story, to New Line Cinema, in 1993. Lazar took two lie detector tests, and both gave inconclusive results. The person administrating the test said it appeared that Lazar believed what he was saying was true.
“The odd part,” says Norio Hayakawa, “is how in the years after Lazar, the story of Area 51 merged with the story of Roswell. If you stop anyone on the street and you ask them what they know about Area 51 they say aliens.”
Or they say Roswell.
To the tens of millions of Americans who believe UFOs come from other planets, Roswell is the holy grail. But Roswell has not always been considered the pinnacle of UFO events. It too had a hidden history for many years.
“What you need to remember is that in 1978, the Roswell crash registered a point-zero-one on the scale in terms of important UFO crashes,” explains Stanton Friedman, a septuagenarian nuclearphysicist-turned-ufologist often referred to by Larry King and others as America’s leading expert on UFOs. “Until the 1980s, the most important book about UFOs was called Flying Saucers — Serious Business, written by newsman Frank Edwards,” Friedman says. “In the book, thousands of UFO sightings are discussed and yet Roswell is mentioned for maybe half a paragraph. That is not very much compared to now.”
Until Stanton Friedman’s exposй on the Roswell incident, which he began in 1978, the story was limited to a few publicly known facts. During the first week of July 1947, in the middle of a powerful lightning storm, something crashed onto a rancher’s property outside Roswell, New Mexico. The rancher, named W. W. Brazel, had been a famous cowboy in his earlier days. Brazel loaded the strange pieces of debris that had come down from the sky into his pickup truck and drove them to the local sheriff’s office in Roswell. From there, Sheriff George Wilcox reported Brazel’s findings to the Roswell Army Air Field down the road. The commander of the 509th Bomb Group at the base assigned two individuals to the W. W. Brazel case: an intelligence officer named Major Jesse Marcel and a press officer named Walter Haut.
Later that same day, Frank Joyce, a young stringer for United Press International and a radio announcer at KGFL in Roswell, received a telephone call from the Roswell Army Air Field. It was press officer Walter Haut saying that he was bringing over a very important press release to be read on the air. Haut arrived at KGFL and handed Frank Joyce the original Roswell statement, which was printed in the paper later that afternoon, July 8, 1947, and in the San Francisco Chronicle the following day.
The many rumors regarding the flying disc became a reality yesterday when the intelligence office of the 509th Bomb Group of the Eighth Air Force, Roswell Army Air Field, was fortunate enough to gain possession of a disc through the cooperation of one of the local ranchers and the Sheriff’s Office of Chaves County.
The flying object landed on a ranch near Roswell sometime last week. Not having phone facilities, the rancher stored the disc until such time as he was able to contact the Sheriff’s office, who in turn notified Major Jesse A. Marcel, of the 509th Bomb Group Intelligence Office.
Action was immediately taken and the disc was picked up at the rancher’s home. It was inspected at the Roswell Army Air Field and subsequently loaned by Major Marcel to higher headquarters.
Three hours after Haut dropped off the statement, the commander of the Roswell Army Air Field sent Walter Haut back to KGFL with a second press release stating that the first press release had been incorrect. What had crashed on W. W. Brazel’s ranch outside Roswell was nothing more than a weather balloon. Photographs showing intelligence officer Major Jesse Marcel posing with the weather balloon were offered as proof. The story faded. No one in the town of Roswell, New Mexico, spoke of it publicly for more than thirty years. Then, in 1978, Stan Friedman and his UFO research partner, a man named Bill Moore, showed up in Roswell and began asking questions. “Bill and I went after the story the hard way,” says Friedman. “There was no Internet back then. We went to libraries, dug through telephone records, made call after call.” After two years of research, Friedman and Moore had interviewed more than sixty-two original witnesses to the Roswell incident. Those interviewed included intelligence officer Major Jesse Marcel and press officer Walter Haut.
It turned out that a lot more had happened in Roswell, New Mexico, in the first and second weeks of July 1947 than just a weather-balloon crash. For starters, large numbers of the military had descended upon the town.
