Among the borderlands of the paranormal, few exploits are stranger than those relating to supposed extraterrestrial phenomena. Take, for example, the fate of flying saucer writer Morris K. Jessup, who became entangled in various UFO conspiracy theories.

Jessup led a life that threatened to become frustratingly comic, except that its mix of far-out alien claims and increasingly depressing failures led to more and more sensational and tragic consequences. It ended in what some of his fellow UFO travelers believed was “too mysterious” to be anything other than deliberate murder covering up fearsome truths—although some acknowledged it might appear otherwise.

Early Years

Morris Ketchum Jessup (1900–1959) was born on a farm near Rockville, Indiana, to George W. and Edna (Swain) Jessup. In 1918, he joined the navy, then entered R.O.T.C. at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.

He remained there for several years, doing undergraduate and graduate studies that led to a bachelor of science in astronomy in 1925. He worked as an observer at the Lamont-Hussey Observatory, associated with the university, and received his master of science degree in 1926.

Jessup even pursued a PhD in astrophysics, but in the spring of 1931 something happened: According to university records, he stopped work on his dissertation and never achieved a doctorate (Oberg 2001). This would appear consistent either with him deciding to abandon his pursuit or the university ending it for him, perhaps due to his failing to pass his doctoral exam. Nevertheless, “in later years he would often be called ‘Dr. Jessup’” (Clark 1998, 1:544).

Relatively little is known of his life after he first left the University of Michigan. It has been reported that he had some later position at Drake University (in Des Moines, Iowa). However, records of his employment are not found at Drake. Instead, “Some tales,” reports James Oberg (2001, 276–277), place him in the Andes “investigating” Inca ruins and in Mexico in the early 1950s, charting what he asserted were “alien” structures. In any case, he was reportedly “employed for most of his life as an automobile-parts salesman and a photographer” (“Morris K. Jessup” 2021).

A Developing Unreality

Jessup joined the speculative field of extraterrestrial visitation. That developed in the wake of strange aerial crafts reported on June 24, 1947, when businessman Kenneth Arnold was flying his private airplane over the Cascade Mountains of Washington State. Arnold described a chain of nine objects, each flying with a motion like “a saucer skipped across water,” and a mythology burgeoned. By the 1950s, “theories” about extraterrestrials and “flying saucers” (later “unidentified flying objects” or UFOs [Nickell 1995, 185–220]) proliferated.

Morris Jessup is sometimes said to have “pioneered” in the fantastical field of UFOs and UFOlogy—although the term pioneer is otherwise usually meant favorably. UFOlogical historian Jerome Clark (1998, 1:545) suggests that reading Jessup’s first book, The Case for the UFO (1955), is rather like browsing through books by Charles Fort (1874–1932). Fort loved to taunt “orthodox” scientists with mysterious phenomena they could not explain—often now termed “Fortean” phenomena after him.

Jessup’s book became famous for what is known as the “Allende letters.” That mystery surfaced in 1956 with a copy of Jessup’s book annotated by three individuals (“Mr. A,” “Mr. B,” and “Jemi”). Together with a series of letters by one Carlos Allende (a.k.a. Carl M. Allen), written to Jessup, the volume arrived at the U.S. Office of Naval Research (ONR). The writings appeared to indicate that the individuals had knowledge about alien cultures and their saucer travel—far beyond that of any government—provoking the ONR’s interest. The Navy reportedly contacted Jessup, but in fact it was only some credulous officers who chipped in to finance a limited-edition copy of the annotated Case and letters.

This obvious hoax became notorious for initiating one of UFOdom’s most persistent conspiracy theories—known today as “The Philadelphia Experiment” from a 1979 book of that title by William L. Moore. Briefly (because that is all the time the foolishness is worth), the “experiment” concerned nothing less than the teleportation of a U.S. Navy ship from its Philadelphia dock to one in Virginia and back. Every hoax should have a sequel, and this one is concise: Allende (that is, Allen) eventually confessed that he had made up the entire tale and gave prominent UFOlogist Jim Lorenzen a signed statement to that effect (Randle 2001; Clark 1998, 1:67–70, 544–547).

Jessup also fell for the bogus Oliver Lerch disappearance story, which I have traced back from 1962 and 1948 accounts, showing it existed prior to 1932. I demonstrated that the tales were fictitious versions of a proliferating hoax. The original ultimately derived from a short story by Ambrose Bierce titled “Charles Ashmore’s Trail,” which was published in 1893 (Nickell with Fischer 1988, 61–73; Clark 1998, 1:545).

Jessup was taken in by other hoaxes and fanciful notions. One was his belief in the elaborate concept now known—from the later books by Erich von Däniken (e.g., Chariots of the Gods? [1970]) and others—as “ancient astronauts.” Supposedly, humanoid extraterrestrials came to Earth in the distant past and created humankind, together with human civilization. Still another of Jessup’s fixations was on the disappearances of airplanes and ships, what later writers would call the “Bermuda Triangle” phenomenon, which has been discredited (Kusche 1986).

Jessup’s next two books came out in 1956. The UFO Annual was something of an anthology about UFOs and other Fortean anomalies. Jessup once told fellow UFO writer Gray Barker (1971, 8–12) that he had done little work on it and that his literary agent had largely assembled it out of news clippings. His second volume of that year was UFO [sic] and the Bible, an attempt to link miracles of the Old and New Testaments with extraterrestrial visitations (Clark 1998, 1:545).

In 1957, Jessup published his fourth and last book, The Expanding Case for the UFO. A truly eccentric work, its central idea is that pygmy races might have colonized first the Moon and then Earth. Not surprisingly, his publisher (Citadel Press) rejected subsequent manuscripts, and he briefly considered publishing and selling his books by mail (Clark 1998, 1:545–546).

Victim of Murder?

As flying saucers ceased to bring Morris Jessup a satisfactory living, he turned to other fanciful endeavors. He eked out a subsistence salary by becoming editor of a fringe astrological publication, and he also developed an increasing fascination with psychic phenomena. In 1956, Jessup was attracted to a proposed expedition to study meteorite craters in Mexico (where he hoped to find further evidence of ancient astronauts). However, when a planned participant, the University of Michigan, discovered that Jessup was to participate, the project was canceled (Clark 1998, 1:546). (It would appear that the university still recalled its former PhD candidate, whose failure might well have been due to his unscholarly ideation.)

Then in April 1959 came word that Morris K. Jessup was dead. Even before an official ruling was issued, saucer conspiracy theorists gave their knee-jerk response to the supposed “mystery.” Even now, according to James Oberg (2001, 277), “Some UFO buffs suggest he was murdered to silence some secret knowledge connected with the Bermuda Triangle or the ‘Philadelphia Experiment.’”

Jessup’s death was an opportunity for Gray Barker (1925–1984) to profit from Jessup’s demise. He published his mystery-mongering edited collection, The Strange Case of Dr. M.K. Jessup (1963)—his title managing to award Jessup his PhD posthumously. He also wrote a later assessment, “The Enigma of M.K. Jessup” (Barker 1971).

Barker’s Saucerian Press published still another book about Jessup. By Anna Lykins Genslinger, it was titled The Jessup Dimension (1981). She determined what really happened regarding Jessup’s demise, she says, through the guidance of his ghost, whom she refers to by the name “Ketch” (an obvious play on Jessup’s middle name, Ketchum).

As Genslinger thus divined, Morris K. Jessup was the victim of secret government entities who were concerned about his special knowledge of such matters as the Philadelphia Experiment. Publisher Barker himself had already launched the legend in UFOlogy now famously known as the Men in Black (MIB) in his book They Knew Too Much about Flying Saucers (1956). The MIB were dark-suited enforcers who leaned on UFO researchers daring to get too close to unspeakable UFO secrets (Clark 1998, 1:546, 2:622).

‘Psychological Autopsy’

If there is any mystery about the death of Morris K. Jessup, however, it is in the minds of UFO conspiracy theorists. The facts in the case are these.

On April 20, 1959, Jessup drove to Dade County Park, a site near his Florida home. At 6:30 p.m., he was discovered unconscious in his vehicle. He died soon thereafter. The cause of death was carbon-monoxide poisoning.

The evidence on site left little doubt as to what actually happened. Jessup’s station wagon had a hose connected to its exhaust pipe that then ran through a partially opened rear window. The car had been left running, allowing toxic fumes to collect inside. The death was officially ruled a suicide (Clark 1998, 1:546; Oberg 2001). The only detail that gives us pause is the fact of the car having been left where it could draw attention. That situation could suggest, rather than something nefarious, the possibility that Jessup secretly hoped someone might intervene, and that is indeed what happened—if tragically too late.

In determining the mode of death in a case (natural, accidental, homicidal, or suicidal), investigators may need to probe the possibility of suicide. I have myself done this in my work over the years as a homicide consultant. The procedure in any case in which suicide may be a possibility is to conduct what is termed a “psychological autopsy.” That is an investigation of a decedent’s mental state prior to death (Nickell and Fischer 1999, 255, 264, 268).

Fortunately, in the Jessup case, there has grown a collection of remembrances by Jessup’s acquaintances that are directly relevant to such an inquiry. What I have done is assemble them here and acknowledge them as a collective de facto psychological autopsy on Morris K. Jessup. It tells a sad story.

Following his failure to achieve academic success, Jessup’s subsequent career as a UFOlogical writer also seemed to be at an end. Other failures include the University of Michigan withdrawing from an expedition that was to involve him. Two years later, after his wife, Rubye, separated from him (Clark 1998, 1:546), Jessup traveled to New York where friends thought he seemed unstable (“Morris K. Jessup” 2021). He met with Ivan T. Sanderson, a zoologist and paranormal writer, who found him in a depressed state. Jessup complained that certain strange happenings—which he seemed unwilling to talk about—had pulled him into what Sanderson (1968) described as a world of unreality.

Later, he showed up again in Florida, explaining to inquirers that he had been in a serious automobile accident there and seeming despondent over his slow recovery (“Morris K. Jessup” 2021). In mid-April of 1959, only a few days before his death, he wrote to a friend, New York radio host Long John Nebel, what Sanderson described as an outright suicide letter. In it, Jessup proposed that after his death Nebel stage an on-air séance to contact his spirit (Sanderson 1968).

Some of Morris Jessup’s friends came to suggest that he may have been driven to suicide by his facing ridicule over the Philadelphia Experiment case (“Morris K. Jessup” 2021). Jessup may have come to realize he had been made a fool of by “Carlos Allende” (a.k.a. Carl M. Allen) and his elaborate hoax tale. Moreover, Jessup “had discussed suicide with friends, for several months” (“Morris K. Jessup” 2021). One such person, Sabina Sanderson, who saw one of Jessup’s letters written in his last days, stated that that “letter makes it clear that he chose suicide as the only possible alternative to an insupportable future and did so after careful consideration.” She added, “Certainly the mysterious ‘they’ had nothing to do with it” (Sanderson 1975).

When all these observations and interpretations are taken together, it is clear that Morris K. Jessup died by his own hand, and no Men in Black were involved. Like one of the saucers he had imagined, Jessup’s career had soared briefly and crashed, becoming part of the folklore of the beckoning skies.

References

Barker, Gray. 1971. The enigma of M.K. Jessup. Flying Saucers (September): 8–12.

Barker, Gray, ed. 1963. The Strange Case of Dr. M.K. Jessup. Clarksburg, WV: Saucerian Books.

Clark, Jerome. 1998. The UFO Encyclopedia, second edition. Detroit: Omnigraphics; in two vols. 1: A-K (1–568), 2: L-Z (569–1178).

Kusche, Larry. 1986. The Bermuda Triangle Mystery Solved. Buffalo, NY: Prometheus Books.

Morris K. Jessup. 2021. Available online at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morris_K._Jessup.

Nickell, Joe. 1995. Entities: Angels, Spirits, Demons, and Other Alien Beings. Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books.

Nickell, Joe, and John F. Fischer. 1999. Crime Science: Methods of Forensic Detection. Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky.

Nickell, Joe, with John F. Fischer. 1988. Secrets of the Supernatural: Investigating the World’s Occult Mysteries. Buffalo, NY: Prometheus Books.

Oberg, James E. 2001. Morris K. Jessup. In Story 2001, 276–277.

Randle, Kevin. 2001. Allende letters. In Story 2001, 53–55.

Sanderson, Ivan T. 1968. Jessup and the Allende case. Pursuit 1(4) (September 30): 8–10; cited in Clark 1998, 546.

Sanderson, Sabina W. 1975. Note. Pursuit 8(2); cited in Clark 1998, 546–547.

Story, Ronald D. 2001. The Encyclopedia of Extraterrestrial Encounters. New York: New American Library.