Monday, February 20, 2012

Dr. C.E. Crain, Letter no.1 from U of S. Aus. Archives, CWR

9 March 2017

My name is Dr. Colton Edward Crain, professor of world history at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City, Utah. While I traditionally spend the majority of my time writing more traditional academic works, the events of the last two days are significant enough in my eyes that I feel they warrant a personal retelling to pass on to future generations (if any exist). To those who may be reading this in the future, I sincerely apologize for the unprofessional form of prose this retelling may take, however I feel it is truly necessary to capture the moment in time in which I currently exist. While I do reside in the Salt Lake City area while working for the University of Utah, I am currently on a sabbatical at the University of South Australia in Adelaide, South Australia, Australia.

Around 10:05pm local time in Adelaide (approximately 4:35am Mountain Standard Time), I was sitting with a group of my colleagues at a bar in the hotel the university had so graciously put me up in. One of the televisions in the bar was streaming the BBC, which had switched from discussing El Clasico to live footage of an explosion that had taken place on the north side of London. Eyewitnesses in the area reckoned it to a bomb exploding, though nothing had ever appeared out of the sky. A street reporter standing outside of Parliament was interviewing a young college student when a second explosion in the background blew both of them off their feet, taking the camera feed with it shortly after.

By this point, everyone in the hotel lobby had crowded into the bar, all eyes fixated on the five television sets that lined the back wall of the bar. The two barmaids were frantically flipping stations back and forth, hoping to catch a live feed of something. Al-Jazeera English came on the screen with a live camera shot from a helicopter flying over Lisbon, Portugal. The city was ablaze, though the fires burning on the ground didn't create the smoke a typical fire would. As the helicopter climbed altitude, it was evident that this series of fires was in a bull's eye pattern, with the center fire being the largest in diameter, followed by three concentric rings of flame radiating out from the center. A man from the far end of the room shouted that news stations from Berlin, Shanghai, Cairo, and Kyoto were all reporting similar occurrences.

We were able to gather that whatever was going on had begun at 9:52pm Adelaide time. Even with as instantaneous as news travels these days (I learned about Lindsey Lohan's death three minutes before police arrived on the scene of her car accident, despite being half a world away), it took nearly 13 minutes for any news organization to catch on to the events transpiring around us. News alerts flooded to my phone, the initial locations reading like a who's who of the world's most prominent cities: London, Paris, Rome, Sydney, Tokyo, Seoul, and New York City all hit with inexplicable explosions and fire at or around 9:52pm. The secondary round of alerts provided a much more grim look at the true scope of what was going on. Manhattan Island was surrounded by a ring of fire, cut off from the rest of the boroughs. The fire was even burning on top of the water, making escape via that alternative impossible.

I began texting back and forth with my wife, Gabrielle, who was still at our home in Salt Lake City. She told me that all was still well there, though she was watching San Francisco burn to the ground on television. Our two daughters, Liz (age 8) and Alana (age 5), were tucked in bed safely asleep, though my dear Gabrielle couldn't sleep as our third daughter, Collette, was kicking away at the inside of her womb. I assured her that I was in good health, as she did the same for me, and I recommended that she keep the girls home from school tomorrow, or at the very least until we knew what was going on.

I walked out to the hotel's lobby to call Gabrielle, only to thrust across the room and into the opposite wall by an explosion that decimated the east side of the hotel. Though I don't remember leaving the hotel, I strongly recall turning back and seeing that the bar I had been seated in only minutes prior. I vaguely recall stumbling past Rundle Mall's Balls before I eventually ended up at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, the location from which I'm currently penning this item. As far as I am aware, all forms of communication, both with the outside world, as well as with other parts of Australia have been lost at this time. I managed to type up an email to Gabrielle on my phone, saving it to send at the first moment where I'm able to find cellular signal or internet. From my bed, I watch as the fires rage on, slowly burning concentric rings into Adelaide, though they never appear to move closer to the hospital. It is my hope that I can continue to take note of what is going on during what appears to be a very dark time in our world, however if this is my last time speaking to you, I wish you all the best of luck.

Date Retreived: 1-1-2023
Date Written: 3-9-2017

Location: This writing is part of a series of letters on file at the University of South Australia in Adelaide. While it is not the only personal retelling of the events surrounding 3-7-2017 to exist, Dr. Crain's work is by far the most well known in the new Commonwealth Republic.

Other Notes: The Commonwealth Republic was formed 10-16-2018 by the countries of Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand as a united front against the alien invaders. It was the only coalition in the Eastern Hemisphere formed during the extraterrestrial violence to have survived in its original state post-war. Dr. Crain published additional letters during the war, all of which are on file at the University of South Australia.

About the Author: See more writing by Tim B. at

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