My UFO Encounter

I’ve believed in a lot of very different things in my lifetime. Some I still believe in, others, not so much. Some of these beliefs would be considered pretty normal, like, you know, believing in God and angels, astrology (that’s normal right?), that the earth is round like a ball, that gravity works, the evolution of animals – including us humans. Other things could be described as weird by your run of the mill ‘man in the street’, New-age things, crystals, ghosts, Ouija boards and Tarot cards, and, of course, aliens and their celestial vehicles, UFOs.

With the recent release of a US Government document pertaining to UFO\UAP and said government’s inability to identify the unidentified aerial phenomenon (UAP) in many cases, I thought it was time I release my own official document about the matter and my personal (and shared) experience with what I believe was an extraterrestrial craft.

There was a report in the Binghamton Press back in July 1964 about several UFO sightings in Tioga County, NY, of which my hometown of Berkshire is part of. This vehicle, as reported was, “very bright” and of a pointed nature. It was also described as “quite large” and was seen flying at tree-top level. Those reporting the incident said no sound came from the object, which gave off a blueish-type light. The main witness to the event was an off-duty village police officer. Later, the two officers who had been called in to report the incident also saw, “two objects moving across the sky in an irregular pattern. The deputies stated that these objects did not appear to be any known aircraft.” The craft seen by the off-duty officer sure does sound a lot like the one my friends and I witnessed 25 or so years later – at least its ‘pointed nature’ and ‘no sound’ aspects. There was another much more famous sighting in 1964 that described the craft as egg-shaped. An account of this can be easily found here: 1964 UFO Landing – Gary Wilcox.

Going even further back to 1934, there was another Tioga County incident in which a 6-year-old by the name of Edith saw what she thought at first was a Greyhound bus parked in a cow pasture just outside of Owego, NY near Lounsberry. Her parents and she were returning home on Thanksgiving night of that year after spending the day with her grandparents. Edith’s father pulled the car over at the child’s excitement and both he and Edith got out of the car and saw a, “long, grey and round on the ends but she remembers that the windows weren’t like a regular bus. These windows were darkened and bulbous; she could even see some shadowy forms moving around inside.” Shortly after, an 85-year-old Edith recounted, the object suddenly rose up, hovered briefly over the pasture and, as she put it, “It just melted away.”

It wasn’t until very recently that I had a specific date to go with my personal encounter. For decades I couldn’t remember what year, let alone the specific date, this took place. One would think that in all the decades I’ve been keeping a journal, since 1977, I’d have written this event down, but searching through book after book has revealed nothing, no mention, not a word about it. I knew it was between 1988 and 1994 because I wasn’t living with my parents, I’d moved out in the summer of 1988, nor had I moved to my current home which happened in February 1995. However, thanks to a Facebook message I put out, a swarm of other witnesses stepped forward, publicly and in private DMs to let me know they too had seen this same craft that same night, Saturday, 13 May 1989. One childhood friend even had a newspaper clipping from our local paper, The Binghamton Press & Sun-Bulletin, which was feeble at best when describing what so many of us in my hometown and nearby towns actually saw that night.

It was a warm, Spring night when we saw it. Nobody was wearing a coat or even a light jacket and I remember the leaves on the trees being full and green. It was a cloudy, overcast night, too, as I recall it. Myself, boyfriend, and best friend had been at my parent’s house in Berkshire, NY, a small town about halfway between Ithaca, located at the southern tip of Cayuga Lake and Binghamton, NY. Whatever business or social gathering we’d been taking part in together, most likely wedding plans, we three were walking to our cars, shouting our good nights to my parents who stood on the front porch and saying our goodbyes to my childhood friend, when someone happened to cast their eyes towards the southeastern sky, towards Binghamton, and said, “What’s that?”

The craft was massive, at least as wide as a football field is long, and moving very slowly towards us from above. I’m no good at measuring distances visually, but it was flying low, much lower than any of the more familiar planes I’d ever seen go by. The craft flew directly over our heads at a steady pace in a perfectly straight line. Its triangular shape blocked out the dark clouds high above. A singular light glowed at the underside pointed tip of the vehicle. More lights could be seen along each branch of the V-shaped vessel. Nothing but darkness appeared along the narrow sides. I don’t remember the lights having a color to them, just white. Others have said the front light was red. It was silent. There was no humming sound or buzz, no low-rumbling, no pulsing whir, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Perhaps that was the creepiest part of it all, this lack of sound. We stood there, utterly stunned at what we were all seeing.

Whatever this craft was, it was in no hurry. It passed overhead, continuing in its slow, steady, silent pace towards the northwest, maintaining its same elevation and speed the entire time. We stood and watched as long as we could, five to ten minutes. I’m not sure if the lights went out or if it simply got too far away for us to see them anymore, but eventually it was gone. Once it was out of sight, we all just looked at each other, verifying what we’d witnessed. My parents must have seen it too, but to be honest, I don’t remember them coming down off the porch and into the driveway with us to witness it. Furthermore, neither of them has ever mentioned the event in later years. My friend would later report that when she got home, which was less than a mile’s walk from my parents’ house, that her sister, who lived next door to her, reported to have also seen the craft.

In the days that followed there was a very brief TV news report of the event and the above article in the local paper appeared. That was the last I ever heard any ‘official’ reports on it. Years later people who hadn’t actually been witnesses told me that they’d read it was just some Japanese paper lanterns set aloft, or some said, helicopters flying in formation, to which I call, “Bullshit.” Japanese lanterns don’t fly in formation and helicopters aren’t silent. What we saw was a craft, of this world or another, I don’t know, but still a huge, silent, solid, airship – perhaps even an updated version, the latest model – if you will – of the one spotted all those years prior in 1964 in the same area. If anyone out there reading this also saw this same unknown vehicle flying in the skies between Binghamton and Ithaca, New York in May of 1989, post your story in the comments below, or contact me in a PM if you’d rather not go public with your experience. I’d love to hear about your encounter.

What Are The Barnesville Chronicles?

By some freakish twist of fate, my workplace declared a snow day on Friday. ((Only the second time a closing has taken place there ahead of a storm in the past forty years as verified \ remembered by my father)) This allowed me some unexpected extra time to work on writing.

Over the past couple weeks, the next book in The Barnesville Chronicles has been giving me some fits. I thought I was done with the first draft. Turns out, I was only half done. While working on the mess I created, it occurred to me maybe there was some clarification that needed to take place about these Chronicles.

What are the Barnesville Chronicles? Simply put, they are stories (mostly novels – there’s one short story that meets the requirements) that share the common setting of a small town in central New York State called Barnesville. In the broader sense, any location set in fictional Oneekah County is and will be a part of the Chronicles. Owen, the capital of Oneekah County in which Barnesville is located, boasts a population of less than 20,000. That should tell you a lot about the other towns and villages it presides over.

These are small town tales surrounded by acres upon acres of farmlands and forests. It’s rural and quiet. Families are tight. Nothing much is going on and life can get pretty monotonous. Everyone knows their neighbors, or do they? You think you know the man who owns the local feed store? Think again. You can trust the funeral director who’s tended to your families death needs for decades, right? Maybe not so much. What about the town librarian? Certainly she’s a good egg with nothing to hide. Not so fast.

Despite having a population of less than 2000, the influences of Barnesville and its secret witches’ coven stretch far and wide from as far back as the late 1700s to present day. The current members pride themselves on their good intentions, but this has not always been the case. Over the centuries, some have gone astray and used their powers and knowledge for more selfish and evil purposes. Therein lies the start of the layering of secrets from one town to the next.

There are ideas percolating, very few of which have been written down.  Secrets of the Scarecrow Moon, a murder-mystery, begins the series in so far as filling in readers on the founding of Barnesville and its coven back in 1790. However, it also takes place in present day. The Witch’s Backbone Part 1: The Curse is set in 1980. Another tale will take place in the mid-1990s. Some weird happenings went down around 1900. The Prohibition Era may well show up for another storyline.

Currently the Barnesville Chronicles include three titles, Secrets of the Scarecrow Moon, That’s What Shadows Are Made Of, and the two-part series, The Witch’s Backbone. Ultimately, I hope to expand on that with each new title set in a different town within the county, bringing the grand total to twelve. Whether that actually happens or not is anyone’s guess, but I’m going to give it a shot.

Finally, each story in the Chronicles will be written as independent, stand-alone tales. You don’t have to read any title in order to understand the events of another. It might be more interesting, but it will be completely unnecessary with the exception of a title that bares more than one part (ie. The Witch’s Backbone). I’ve no intention of writing them in chronological order so there’s not reason for them to be read that way beyond a reader wanting to do so. Of course, knowing that order will only be fully disclosed when the final book is released years and years from now.

Now you know about The Barnesville Chronicles and I really should get back to that bone I have to pick with a certain witch in Part 2 of The Witch’s Backbone – The Murder.

 

Sherlock Holmes To The Rescue!

Adventures / Murder-Mystery / Writer's Life

When we first started talking on Skype I never really thought he had much of an accent. So, how come now that we’ve been living together in the North for almost eight months, I’m starting to hear it?

As some of you know my boyfriend is from Texas. His father was in the Air Force for many years and the family moved around a lot. He’s lived in Germany, France, Colorado, New Mexico and several other Southern states but Texas was always home to them and it was to Texas they all returned and lived once Dad’s military days were over. Living in so many places as a kid certainly tempered the Southern sound of his voice compared to his parents. His mother, for instance, seems to think ‘Jim’ is a two-syllable name, Jee-im. Sherlock Holmes would have a field day in our house what with my mom insisting that the part of your mouth your teeth are embedded in are called GOOMS and that you can carry your lunch in a paper BAGE. WTH, Mom? Where’d you learn to talk? Oh, wait. Not even twenty miles from where I did. Go figure!

Shortly after he moved up here, he noticed how much I use the phrase, ‘what-not’. Apparently of all the BIG things they have in Texas, the phrase ‘what-not’ is not one of them.  It quickly became a joke and we started adding ‘what-not’ onto the end of as many sentences as possible. In exchange for him adding ‘what-not’ to his vocabulary it was decided I should start saying ‘fixin’ more often. As in, “We’re fixin’ to go down to the store.”  It has provided us with much more amusement than it probably should but we tend to be easily amused (and what-not).

The other night we were playing ‘Second Life’ and he started talking about a mutual friend of ours, Al – as in short for Albert. We met Al at a place called Crack Den. Fun to RP with but as we haven’t been there in nearly two months now, haven’t  seen him.  “Jee-im” says we’re going to have to get Al a motorcycle for the new area he’s been exploring lately. It’s a lot like Crack Den. I’ve not been there myself as of yet. Anyway… SL motorcycles don’t come cheap and I’m thinking, “Why would he buy Al a motorcycle when we haven’t even seen or heard from him in two months?”   I ask, “Is Al even there?” He shakes his head a bit and says he doesn’t know. And I’m like, “So, why would you want to buy him a motorcycle?” He replies, “As the new Sergeant At Arms in the MC he should have a bike.”  And then it hit me. He wasn’t saying AL at all. He was saying OWL.  I start laughing.  I know very well who Owl is and suddenly the whole conversation made sense. “OH! You mean Owl not Al, as in Albert.”

 He chuckles, “Sorry, I was speakin’ Texan.”  

 One of these days he’s going to say ‘awl’ or ‘oil’ that way and I’m going to end up lost… again.

In the meantime, I’m fixin’ to head over yonder to get some coffee an’ what-not.  I need someplace ‘quite’ to sit an’ think about how I’m going to get him to use the words ‘wubble’ and ‘squee-haw’.