Speaker 1: It had only been months since i'd lost my sister.
Speaker 1: I was depressed and feeling all alone. When I reached
Speaker 1: out to a friend. He suggested I get out and
Speaker 1: go down around the mulgi. I think i'll pronounce that
Speaker 1: right oak mulgy. Maybe that's a river or a swamp,
Speaker 1: I'm not sure, and he wanted to scout for hogs.
Speaker 1: We planned on going on a hunt soon, so I
Speaker 1: decided he was right that it might be good for me.
Speaker 1: I took my dog, a cocker Spaniel named River, and
Speaker 1: we headed out. We'd worked our way down to the
Speaker 1: famous bass fishing lake through the woods for about a
Speaker 1: mile when I got a whiff of something that could
Speaker 1: have knocked a buzzard off a poop wack. I love
Speaker 1: the way you guys write. I can't even describe it.
Speaker 1: It was just bad. I started looking around for it,
Speaker 1: thinking what I smelled with something dead. I thought coyotes
Speaker 1: might be a concern, but I had my pump action
Speaker 1: Mossberg loaded with buckshot and slugs, so I wasn't too worried.
Speaker 1: About that time. River disappeared somewhere and I started seeing
Speaker 1: water through the trees, so I knew I must be
Speaker 1: getting close to the lake. As I got closer to
Speaker 1: the water and rounded a little thicket, I immediately saw
Speaker 1: something standing to the left of me. I knew this
Speaker 1: is what I must have been smelling. Admittedly, I wasn't
Speaker 1: wearing my glasses, so I couldn't see every minor detail,
Speaker 1: but I knew what this thing was. I noticed his
Speaker 1: lips for some reason, he wasn't quite showing his teeth,
Speaker 1: but he wasn't not showing them either. It was more
Speaker 1: like a relaxing moment, kind of like after you brush
Speaker 1: your teeth. But what surprised me the most was when
Speaker 1: he saw my shotgun. It had been tucked behind my
Speaker 1: leg in such a way that it was hidden from
Speaker 1: the creature at first, but in my shock, I took
Speaker 1: a step back, dropping it into plain sight. He took
Speaker 1: one look at it and zeroed in on it with
Speaker 1: real fear and recognition on his face. He knew what
Speaker 1: this thing was, and I believe he knew that it
Speaker 1: could hurt him. His eyes darted back and forth between
Speaker 1: me and the shotgun, so I knew I had to
Speaker 1: do something. I raised my free hand in a show
Speaker 1: of peace to sort of say, hey, I'm not here.
Speaker 1: To hurt you. That must have satisfied him, because he
Speaker 1: turned and walked off. It was actually more like a
Speaker 1: glide than a walk. I exhaled and realized I'd been
Speaker 1: holding my breath. I admit I was shocked to my core.
Speaker 1: I know that they're there now. I went back out
Speaker 1: there with my friend during the rainy season and we
Speaker 1: found two sets of tracks. The writer of this account
Speaker 1: states the following event is recorded in a book. Photos
Speaker 1: were taken by a California Highway Patrol officer and these
Speaker 1: photos are reproduced in this book. As of today, I
Speaker 1: have not confirmed this. However, he claims several of the
Speaker 1: individuals present during this UFO event have read the book
Speaker 1: and seen the photographs. I have the title of the book,
Speaker 1: but the dates given do not correspond with the date
Speaker 1: of the following event. I do not doubt the writer's word.
Speaker 1: On the contrary, I believe the date of the publication
Speaker 1: in his email is a typo. We will hear more
Speaker 1: from this writer in the future, and if I can
Speaker 1: get this information straight, I will reveal the title of
Speaker 1: the book that he wrote of and the date of
Speaker 1: its publication. Fountain Valley, California, during the fall of nineteen
Speaker 1: seventy three, one of those seventy degree t shirt nights
Speaker 1: in Crazy Fornia. At nine o'clock PM, we stopped working
Speaker 1: on our dragster and we decided to run down to
Speaker 1: the local coffee shop. As we walked towards our cars,
Speaker 1: I looked towards Miles Square Park, two blocks from my house.
Speaker 1: Three lights were hovering about three thousand feet or less
Speaker 1: above the park. The light formed a triangle shape in
Speaker 1: the sky. A helicopter practiced landing pad was located in
Speaker 1: the park. An unfortunate helicopter crash had occurred there some
Speaker 1: weeks before. As unusual as this may sound, three choppers
Speaker 1: collided at once and fell to the ground, killing several airmen.
Speaker 1: Crews were at work removing the wreckage at this time.
Speaker 1: One fuselage remained on the ground for the next day's work.
Speaker 1: Three lights were slowly descending over the park. My friends
Speaker 1: and I stood in astonishment watching the lights descend over
Speaker 1: the park. I asked my friends if they wanted to
Speaker 1: get a better look, and I was surprised to hear
Speaker 1: them respond with a hell no. The lights continued their descent,
Speaker 1: pulsing and constantly changing colors. It was too much for me,
Speaker 1: so I smugly called my buddies a bunch of chickens,
Speaker 1: and I raced for the park in my chevel. I
Speaker 1: reached the closed gate to the landing pad with my
Speaker 1: head lights off. The lights were now five hundred feet
Speaker 1: or less off the ground. Marines had been guarding the
Speaker 1: pad since the crash, but they were distracted by the
Speaker 1: lights now falling on top of them. Signs were posted
Speaker 1: along the fence to keep out. I had to see
Speaker 1: this up close, and I sprung from the car, hopped
Speaker 1: a fence, ran the last hundred yards through a shallow ditch,
Speaker 1: and I crouched next to the landing pad. I knew
Speaker 1: I would be seen at some point and probably go
Speaker 1: to jail, but the impulse to get close was worth
Speaker 1: it for me. A young marine stood just a few
Speaker 1: feet away on the tarmac. He was transfixed by the
Speaker 1: crafts hovering above. I could now clearly see the UFOs,
Speaker 1: only one hundred feet above the last helicopter wreckage. They
Speaker 1: were round objects with a metallic appearance. One was red
Speaker 1: and then pulsed to orange, Another was blue, changing to purple.
Speaker 1: The last was yellow to green. The colors changed slowly.
Speaker 1: There was no blinking. I walked out onto the tarmac
Speaker 1: and I stood next to the marine who had dropped
Speaker 1: his rifle and gazed at the spectacle as if he
Speaker 1: were in a trance. He never noticed me walk past him.
Speaker 1: Now I was standing next to the helicopter and directly
Speaker 1: under the UFOs. They now hovered silently fifty feet above me,
Speaker 1: still maintaining their triangular formation. Each vessel looked to be
Speaker 1: one hundred feet in diameter. I felt no heat or wind,
Speaker 1: and the area was silent. They hung in the sky
Speaker 1: as if strings held them in place. I don't know
Speaker 1: how long I stood watching. It could have been thirty seconds,
Speaker 1: or it could have been three hours. There were no
Speaker 1: voices in my head, but I distinctly got the message
Speaker 1: to get off the tarmac. So I turned my back
Speaker 1: to the wreckage and I walked back the way that
Speaker 1: I had come in. The guard was in front of me,
Speaker 1: walking in the same direction towards the field and the brush.
Speaker 1: He was in a zombie like state, putting one foot
Speaker 1: in front of the other, with no animation or interest
Speaker 1: in what was happening around him. I walked by the
Speaker 1: rifle he had dropped earlier, and I caught up with
Speaker 1: him at the edge of the concrete and we both
Speaker 1: to watch the UFO slowly began gaining an elevation, and
Speaker 1: then they shot into the sky like bullets, stopping briefly
Speaker 1: as pinpoints of light in the sky, and then they vanished.
Speaker 1: The guard looked over at me, appearing to be a
Speaker 1: bit surprised to see me there. So I headed back
Speaker 1: to the car, not saying a word. It was time
Speaker 1: to go back. At the coffee shop, I met my
Speaker 1: buddies in the parking lot. They had watched the whole
Speaker 1: event from here. A bunch of chickens, I mumbled. They
Speaker 1: made the case that they might be chickens, but at
Speaker 1: least they weren't crazy, and I actually think they had
Speaker 1: a point. I proceeded to tell them the whole story.
Speaker 1: The whole thing really was crazy. Twenty years later, my
Speaker 1: wife and I were attending a wedding dinner for the
Speaker 1: daughter of my friend Ken, who was at the coffee
Speaker 1: shop parking lot that night. We all sat at a
Speaker 1: large table and the discussion was lively. From across the table,
Speaker 1: I heard Ken say, Hey, Mark, why don't you tell
Speaker 1: that story about the UFOs? At Miles State Park. Some
Speaker 1: of our friends laughed, but Ken and I didn't. I
Speaker 1: went on to tell the story to a mesmerized audience.
Speaker 1: I was almost to the end of the story when
Speaker 1: Ken's wife blurted, Oh my god, you mean that story
Speaker 1: is true. Ken laughed and he said, I've been telling
Speaker 1: you that story for years. Yes, it's true. We all
Speaker 1: saw them, and oh, crazy here took off in his
Speaker 1: car and snuck into that park like it was no
Speaker 1: big deal. All he wanted was a front row seat.
Speaker 1: All of this has really been blocked out until recently.
Speaker 1: I've heard so many stories and started putting two and
Speaker 1: two together. I didn't know what it was that I
Speaker 1: saw until recently, and some things leading up to it
Speaker 1: and things that happened afterward have put it all in perspective.
Speaker 1: My name is John and I'm a firefighter and a
Speaker 1: minister of the gospel. What happened to me happened when
Speaker 1: I was twelve years old. That was back in nineteen
Speaker 1: eighty seven. I lived in a neighborhood in Ocean Springs, Mississippi.
Speaker 1: The neighborhood was not huge, but not small either. However,
Speaker 1: every bit of it was surrounded by woods, There were
Speaker 1: also bayous not too far away that we would sneak
Speaker 1: away and fish in. And we knew most of the
Speaker 1: woods around there like the back of our hands. We
Speaker 1: had b begun wars and pine cone wars and bottle
Speaker 1: rocket wars, and we camped out and we built forts,
Speaker 1: and you get the picture. We loved the woods and
Speaker 1: we played and we played hard, except there was this
Speaker 1: one section of woods when you first entered the neighborhood
Speaker 1: that we just never felt comfortable in. We call those
Speaker 1: woods the creepy woods. When you entered the neighborhood, they
Speaker 1: were on the left hand side. I remember my friend's
Speaker 1: dad took us back there mudding in the back of
Speaker 1: his pickup truck, and they seemed like they went on forever.
Speaker 1: In reality, I believe if you followed them far enough,
Speaker 1: it would drop into a huge subdivision several miles away.
Speaker 1: We could never put our finger on it. We just
Speaker 1: didn't like going back there again. It was just creepy.
Speaker 1: Thinking back, there was a gravel road that us kids
Speaker 1: used to take to the old country store a couple
Speaker 1: of miles away. We were able to avoid the busy
Speaker 1: main road to get there, and that gravel road covered
Speaker 1: a section of those creepy woods. It was just close
Speaker 1: enough to the main road where you could hear the traffic,
Speaker 1: so it didn't seem quite as creepy. My dad used
Speaker 1: to send me to that old country store to get
Speaker 1: his newspaper every Saturday and Sunday morning. I guess that
Speaker 1: walk was between one and two miles. There were so
Speaker 1: many times that I would take that walk and feel
Speaker 1: like I was being watched, and I would stop walking
Speaker 1: and I would listen, because even though I was walking
Speaker 1: on the gravel, I swore I could hear leaves crunching,
Speaker 1: like something was keeping pace with me. Many times I
Speaker 1: was with my friends and we would all get the
Speaker 1: same sensation. Somebody would tell everyone to stop and be quiet,
Speaker 1: and we would just listen. It was eerie, but we
Speaker 1: almost always chalked it up to us being scared of
Speaker 1: the creepy woods. One night, my dad was driving me
Speaker 1: home from a little league baseball game. He was president
Speaker 1: of the league, so we almost always got home late.
Speaker 1: As he took a right into our neighborhood, the creepy
Speaker 1: woods were on the left. We went in one hundred
Speaker 1: yards and then took another right. There was a field
Speaker 1: that we played baseball and football on right across from
Speaker 1: those woods. As he took that right, our headlights shined
Speaker 1: into the field and that's when we saw it. The
Speaker 1: lights caught glowing amber colored eyes and a shadow of
Speaker 1: something that was absolutely huge. We both saw it for
Speaker 1: a split second and we passed it. It was so
Speaker 1: quick that neither of us could get any great detail.
Speaker 1: Dad let out, oh, what the heck was that and
Speaker 1: slammed on the brakes and he threw the truck in reverse,
Speaker 1: and then it was gone. We sat there for a
Speaker 1: minute or two and discussed what we had thought we'd seen,
Speaker 1: and after a short discussion, we determined that we both
Speaker 1: saw it, so we knew we were not making it up.
Speaker 1: We told my mom and sister when we got home,
Speaker 1: and they thought we were trying to scare them. Well,
Speaker 1: we went out the next day and we walked around
Speaker 1: the field where we saw it, and there was a
Speaker 1: lone pine tree on that end of the field, twenty
Speaker 1: five feet from where we had seen the shadow. At
Speaker 1: a best guess, we determined this creature was at least
Speaker 1: eight feet tall. Now I remember the ground was dry,
Speaker 1: so we never found any tracks, and over the next week,
Speaker 1: we had to quit talking about it and we got
Speaker 1: back to our daily routine a few weeks later. I
Speaker 1: remember this it was the same summer because we moved
Speaker 1: away shortly after. My buddy and I were walking to
Speaker 1: his house. It was just after dark and we were
Speaker 1: going to see if we could stay the night. We
Speaker 1: had to walk by the field. My dad and I
Speaker 1: saw this creature in and honestly I hadn't thought much
Speaker 1: more about it, but as we walked by, I got
Speaker 1: another uneasy feeling that we were being watched. I did
Speaker 1: the best I could to ignore it. I didn't mention
Speaker 1: anything to him because I didn't want him to think
Speaker 1: I was crazy or scared. We got to his house
Speaker 1: and his parents would not let us stay the night,
Speaker 1: so I was stuck walking back home by myself. As
Speaker 1: I once again approached the field, this time it was
Speaker 1: on my right, there were two ways that I could
Speaker 1: go home. I could either cut through the woods to
Speaker 1: the left, which shortened up my trip quite a bit,
Speaker 1: or I could go straight and take the road, which
Speaker 1: I added several minutes. I was going to take the woods.
Speaker 1: I'd done it a hundred times, and as I was
Speaker 1: about to take the turn, into the woods. The hair
Speaker 1: on the back of my neck stood straight up, and
Speaker 1: my heart started racing, and I literally became fearful. Something
Speaker 1: on the inside of me screamed, do not go that way,
Speaker 1: and I listened to that voice, and I took off,
Speaker 1: running as fast as I could down the gravel road.
Speaker 1: I ran all the way home with tears streaming down
Speaker 1: my face, and I never looked aback. I think I
Speaker 1: broke a world record that night. I opened the door
Speaker 1: and went straight to my room, and I never discussed
Speaker 1: it with anyone. I've never had that kind of fear
Speaker 1: come over me before, and I've never had it since.
Speaker 1: But after listening to so many encounters, there's no doubt
Speaker 1: in my mind what was out there. Again, I never
Speaker 1: talked to any of my friends about it, and only
Speaker 1: recently I'm forty four years old now did I ask
Speaker 1: my dad if he remembered that huge creature we saw
Speaker 1: in the field that night. He had not thought about
Speaker 1: it until I mentioned it, he said, And I told
Speaker 1: him what I thought it was, and he didn't disagree
Speaker 1: with me. That is what I believe to be my encounter.
Speaker 1: It may not be as exciting as some that I've
Speaker 1: heard but I will always remember the fear that I
Speaker 1: felt that lone night. I will always remember those amber
Speaker 1: colored eyes in that dark shadow that stood in the field.