Someone called Art Bell about the activities in Area 51, but the truth remains elusive. The incident is one of the most bizarre caught on radio, and no solid conclusions were ever made.
On the night of September 11, 1997, the phone lines of the Coast-to-Coast AM radio show were a pulsing conduit of intrigue. These lines, left open and unscreened, hummed with anticipation, offering a direct channel for callers harboring classified intel on the enigmatic Area 51, that notorious United States Air Force outpost whispered to harbor more than its fair share of extraterrestrial visitors.
Within the confines of his Pahrump, Nevada home studio, the maestro of the mysterious, Art Bell, assumed the role of gatekeeper to a realm of wild theories and government subterfuge.
But a peculiar moment, an anomaly in the radio ether, unfolded during the broadcast’s midpoint. A caller, gripped by a palpable fear, managed to stutter a greeting before unleashing a revelation.
With a trembling voice, he spilled the beans: “They’ll triangulate on this position really, really soon,” he cried, his emotions bare for all to hear. “What we’re thinking of as… aliens, Art, they’re… extradimensional beings that an earlier precursor of the… space program made contact with… They have infiltrated many… aspects of… the military establishment, particularly the Area 51. The disasters that are coming, they… the government… knows about them… They want those major population centers wiped out so that… the few left will be more easily controllable… I started g—”
Abruptly, the transmission faded into oblivion. Five seconds of eerie silence followed, and the show returned to life.
“Well,” Art Bell announced with a tinge of uncertainty, “we are now on a backup system… Something knocked us off the air.” It was an unexplained failure of the satellite uplink transmitter, a baffling occurrence for the seasoned broadcaster. For the remainder of that night, Bell and his riveted audience engaged in a fervent debate about the nature of the disturbance, but no conclusions would ever be made.
Yet, within the context of Coast-to-Coast AM, such enigmas were all in a night’s work. For nearly a decade, Bell had captivated listeners during the witching hours, five nights a week, from 11:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. PST.
At the peak of his popularity, his dulcet tones reached 15 million souls across the United States. With the strains of Giorgio Moroder’s Midnight Express as his backdrop, Bell beckoned his audience from “the high desert and the great American Southwest” to share an otherworldly experience, where evening seamlessly melded into morning.
Who was Art Bell and What is the Coast-to-Coast AM?
With its tapestry of mythologies, Coast-to-Coast AM spun from the tapestry of night and the arid expanses of the desert, beckoning its listeners to explore the outer reaches of human experience. In this nocturnal rendezvous, one could expect a smorgasbord of topics: from speculations about life on Mars to sightings of the elusive Bigfoot, from far-fetched tales of vaccine-administered microchips to shadowy narratives of government-sanctioned alien-hybrid breeding programs.
It was a platform where doomsday prophecies danced with discussions of cataclysmic climate change.
Bell’s life and tenure as the custodian of Coast-to-Coast AM became a mirror reflecting the social and political terrain of the so-called “end of history.” Bell provided solace to his listeners in an era marked by political disenchantment, material decline, and the atomization of society in the aftermath of the Cold War.
He gave them a semblance of agency, a chance to be players in a game, even if the odds seemed stacked against them. In this regard, Art Bell stood as an emotional touchstone for the conditions underpinning neoliberal democracy. Considering the tumultuous events that were to unfold in the years ahead, it’s now evident that he also possessed a touch of prophecy.
The Life of Art Bell
Arthur William “Art” Bell III was born in Jacksonville, North Carolina, on June 17, 1945, when the victory in Europe had just heralded a future of peace. However, as Bell took his first steps, the world teetered on the precipice of a new era. On July 16, 1945, the United States ignited its first atomic weapon, ominously known as “the Gadget,” at the Trinity Site in the vast desolation of New Mexico.
As Bell took those tentative early strides, American diplomat George F. Kennan sent his infamous “Long Telegram” to the State Department, advocating a resolute containment strategy against the Soviet Union.
In 1947 President Harry Truman penned the National Security Act, birthing the Central Intelligence Agency and formalizing the burgeoning U.S. security apparatus. By the mid-1950s, the United States was embroiled in the Korean War, a pivotal prelude to the looming Cold War. Even before Bell set foot in a primary school, the world had been dramatically reshaped.
Bell’s upbringing bore the imprint of traditional values, yet beneath the surface, simmered discontent and a sense of rootlessness. In his memoir, “The Art of Talk,” he confessed to believing from an early age that his feisty parents should have parted ways. Nonetheless, they persevered, guided by a code of honor inherited from their military service.
As Marines, Bell’s parents frequently traversed the country due to reassignments. By the time young Bell entered high school, he had attended 35 different schools. Amidst this whirlwind, radio emerged as one of the few constants in his life. At 12, he earned his Federal Communications Commission ham radio license and commenced conversations with amateur radio operators spanning the globe.
Simultaneously, Bell harbored an unquenchable passion for flight, an endeavor that, like radio, bestowed a sense of dominion over earthly concerns.
This passion for flight eventually led Bell, freshly graduated from high school, to enlist in the Air Force. Cognizant of the nightmarish reports from the Vietnam War, he chose the role of a medic, sparing himself the horrors of active combat. Yet, his heart remained anchored to the radio.
While stationed in Amarillo, Texas, for basic training, Bell ran a clandestine pirate radio station, clandestinely piping rock ‘n’ roll to grateful GIs. He even etched his name into the annals of the Guinness World Records with an astounding 116-hour solo broadcast marathon, foreshadowing the marathon conspiracy journeys that would define his midnight musings.
As Bell crisscrossed between U.S. military bases overseas throughout the 1960s and early ’70s, the sociopolitical fabric of America was stretched to its limits. The nation’s faith in institutions plummeted to historic lows amid the turmoil of the Vietnam War, high-profile political assassinations, congressional inquiries, and hard-hitting journalism that laid bare covert operations and political wrongdoings.
In a 1998 interview with The Washington Post, Bell reflected on these tumultuous years and concluded that Watergate and its ensuing chaos had “created a nation of cynics, a people who gave up on one reality and went off in search of another.”
The Origins of Coast-To-Coast Radio Show
For Bell, the upheavals of mid-20th century America, with its burgeoning penchant for conspiracy, served as a backdrop and profoundly shaped the content and form of his future.
In 1978, Bell assumed the host mantle for a late-night talk show christened West Coast AM, later rechristened Coast-to-Coast AM. Uninterested in pedestrian radio fare, he boldly threw open the lines of communication. This experiment, a portal into the enigmatic dysphoria of the times, welcomed various callers.
UFO enthusiasts, flower children, doomsday preppers, long-haul truckers, militia members, and proponents of Black nationalism all dialed in. Though their beliefs often diverged wildly, they shared a common thread: an underlying dread of uncontrollable forces dictating their lives.
While occasionally misguided, this loose, sometimes discordant congregation harbored a veiled critique of the unraveling of the American exceptionalist narrative.
By 1996, Coast-to-Coast AM had ascended to the pinnacle of late-night radio, boasting syndication on over 450 stations nationwide. With its pioneering spirit and proximity to the clandestine machinations of the security state and Las Vegas’s unabashed hypercapitalism, the Nevada desert lent an air of clandestine knowledge to Bell’s broadcasts.
In this arid expanse, secrets intertwined with lies, forgotten histories intersected with explosive truths. In his concept of “the Quickening,” an interpretive framework for the diverse subjects covered on Coast, Bell observed that in “many areas of our lives, the gravity of events seems to be intensifying,” hinting at profound transformations on the horizon as the century turned.
The world, he posited, was no longer a sanctuary of safety.
In this symphony of the strange, regular guests on Coast included journalist George Knapp, renowned for his investigations into UFO phenomena; Linda Moulton Howe, a documentarian fixated on the enigmatic mutilation of cattle; Ed Dames, a self-proclaimed expert in “remote viewing,” the art of telepathically projecting one’s consciousness to distant locales, and a military parapsychologist associated with the Stargate Project; and Richard Hoagland, the proponent of the “Face on Mars” theories, among others.
Indeed, the curious juxtaposition of Coast-to-Coast AM as a creation of a radio conglomerate and Art Bell’s proximity to mainstream media did raise questions about the show’s conspiratorial credentials. The fact that it was a product of the media establishment could, on the surface, seem contradictory to the subversive themes it delved into.
This paradox prompted speculations among web users in Usenet groups like alt.conspiracy.area51, who wondered if Bell might be part of a clandestine government operation, possibly on a “Black Ops Payroll.”
The skepticism went further, questioning why Art Bell didn’t face more significant opposition from a supposed “secret government” that aimed to suppress certain information. Milton William “Bill” Cooper, known for his conspiracist handbook “Behold a Pale Horse,” emerged as a vocal critic of Art Bell.
He lashed out at “Art Babbling ‘B.S.’ Bell” and accused him of spreading “myths, lies, and deceptions.” As it often does, the paranoid fringe struggled to form cohesive coalitions due to these uncertainties and suspicions.
Art Bell’s personal beliefs added another layer of complexity. While he leaned toward libertarianism, he described himself as a “political mutt” with a history of supporting various candidates, from Republican Barry Goldwater to independent Ross Perot, warming to Bill Clinton, and enthusiastically voting for Barack Obama.
This ideological fluidity made pinpointing his true convictions regarding government reform or abolition difficult. In a 1998 interview with Skeptical Inquirer, he firmly asserted that Coast’s subject matter was primarily “absolute entertainment” driven by business interests.
Yet, the paradox between Bell’s public persona as an entertainer and the content of his show was striking. He expounded upon sociological and scientific theories on the airwaves, sharing personal UFO sightings and allowing his guests ample time to speak.
He rarely interrupted or interjected, except in notable instances like his confrontation with white supremacist Tom Metzger, where he defended his interracial marriage.
The participatory format of Coast-to-Coast AM was its hallmark, fostering the construction of folkloric narratives and forming a dedicated community. This phenomenon transcended Art Bell’s role as the show’s host.
While there might have been ambiguity and occasional contradictions between Bell and the show’s content, it didn’t diminish what Coast had become for its devoted listeners. It was a platform where the mysterious and the unexplained found a home, regardless of its origins or Bell’s personal beliefs.
The show’s enigmatic nature peaked when, on October 13, 1998, Art Bell abruptly announced during an episode that a “life-threatening terrible event” would make it his final broadcast. Naturally, this cryptic declaration ignited a flurry of conspiracies and speculations, adding another layer to the mystique of Coast-to-Coast AM.
Without explanation, Art Bell’s return to Coast-to-Coast AM marked a turbulent chapter in the show’s history. Personal crises, including health problems, the kidnapping of his son, and false accusations of sexual misconduct, had led him to retreat from the limelight. The consequences were evident in the show’s declining listenership and diminishing advertiser interest, signaling the end of Coast’s heyday.
As the new millennium dawned, it did so without the catastrophic events predicted by some, like the Y2K bug causing global chaos or aliens intervening in human affairs. Reality failed to match the apocalyptic scenarios that had saturated popular imagination. Historian Peter Knight, echoing Jean Baudrillard, noted that 2000 seemed anticlimactic because the concept of the end of history had already imploded.
The multitude of end-times predictions had oversaturated the collective consciousness.
These changes reverberated through Coast-to-Coast AM. While Art Bell had generally avoided overtly political themes, replacement hosts leaned into them and began intertwining conspiracy theories with more explicitly reactionary views.
Bell retired from radio for good in 2015, and his health steadily deteriorated. He was hospitalized for pneumonia in 2016 and suffered chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Tragically, on Friday, April 13, 2018, Bell passed away at home in Pahrump due to an accidental prescription drug overdose.
The Legacy of Art Bell
Art Bell’s life and career defy simple moralistic narratives. Instead, they offer insights into the complex forces driving historical change, with triumphs, tragedies, and everything in between. Through Coast-to-Coast AM, Bell held up a multifaceted mirror to contemporary America.
In the shadow of the atomic bomb, the waning American century, and an uncertain future, his broadcasts reflected and alleviated the precarity of the “end of history” period.
As liberal norms continue to recede in the present day, Bell’s willingness to engage with the unknown can serve as a lens through which we contemplate our destiny, whether destruction, abduction, or salvation.
In a 1998 interview with Larry King, Bell pondered the human fascination with the paranormal, stating, “When we’re done here on Earth, we all want to know that there’s something else out there, don’t we? That’s the land of the paranormal.”
He continued by musing about death as the greatest unknown, a cosmic mystery given our relatively brief existence on this planet.
Yet, in the contemporary era, the wonder and mystery that Art Bell once celebrated seem to have been hijacked by technology and the relentless march of progress. Your experience of stargazing with your family, witnessing a strange procession of lights in the night sky, encapsulates this shift. In a bygone era, you might have turned to Coast-to-Coast AM for an explanation of such a phenomenon.
But now, armed with pocket-sized supercomputers, the mystery is swiftly dispelled. What was once awe and wonder become mundane knowledge as you learn about Elon Musk’s Starlink satellite internet constellation.
And as billionaires venture into the heavens, the comfort of uncertainty diminishes.
Bell’s show had become a beacon in the night, beckoning those who sought answers to the unexplained, solace in the mysterious, and a sense of communion amidst the dissonance of their times.
Despite the veneer of economic and political stability in the early 1990s, there was a palpable withdrawal from the political arena, a perceived dissolution of ideologies, and the rise of a technocratic managerial class.
This era witnessed the culmination of decades of social fragmentation. The rapid proliferation of computer-mediated connectivity marked it a deluge of information and a widening chasm between expectations and reality. People found a guide in Art Bell who helped them navigate these uncharted waters.
Art Bell’s legacy is a testament to his ability to capture the zeitgeist of an era of ambiguity and complexity. He traversed the realms of the enigmatic and, in doing so, left an indelible mark on the tapestry of American media and culture.
RIP Art Bell.
Next, read about the Cadaver Synod where a Dead Pope Was Put on Trial, and then, about Edmund Kemper, the Infamous Serial Killer!