In elementary school I was fascinated with astronomy, the space program, flying saucer stories and science fiction. Not having much to read on these subjects at home, I went frequently to the Park Ridge Public Library a few blocks away to examine what they had. The children's section downstairs was poor, and I, being a pretentious fellow even then, soon migrated upstairs. They wouldn't let kids check out books from upstairs, but they didn't stop us from browsing the open stacks. Being relatively new to town, I hadn't any real friends, so I'd spend weekends there reading.
Happily, the library had a shelf or two of books about unidentified flying objects and I went through all of them, picking out the more interesting ones to read. These included Keyhoe, Scully, Edwards, Jung and, yes, George Adamski.
Adamski was certainly the most outrageous. Back then, in the early sixties, visual and radar sightings were common, but contact accounts were rare and abductions virtually unheard of. Adamski, however, claimed multiple contacts, indeed, friendships with aliens from our planetary neighbors. Furthermore, his books had clear, close-up photographs of the saucers themselves--later purportedly exposed as inverted egg hatchers.
Flying Saucers Have Landed was probably the first time I had ever been exposed to really outrageous lies and or delusions published, in hardcover, by adults. After the fascination faded, it provoked a lot of cognitive dissonance. His subsequent books, wherein his trips to other worlds with beautiful extraterrestrial ladies are described, were even worse--so bad, in fact, that Adamski contributed to me getting eventually disinterested in UFOs.