What About the UFOs?

Photo by Zaji Kanamajina on Unsplash

Humans are strange. We now have the pentagon saying the UFO photos that have recently been released are, in fact, unidentified flying objects. They confirm that they are not balloons or drones. That much they know, they say, because they do not act like any known balloon or drone. High winds don’t seem to faze them. And the ones in the most recently publicized photos were hovering around 700-feet above a Navy vessel.

Good grief and yikes! Unless some other country has something we’ve never dreamed of — and more importantly the pentagon hasn’t dreamed of — they’re out there. Well, something is out there.

So many questions come to mind.

But Americans, in particular, and because I know more about American responses, don’t seem to be very curious or even surprised. Apparently, we’ve heard about UFOs for so long we don’t make much fuss about it anymore.

A bunch of us — high school kids — were having a party on a sandbar on the Arkansas River near Little Rock. Some people, mainly the boys, were drinking. We had a campfire. It was all fun and games, as they say, until a panther screamed. At least that’s what my mind decided it heard, a panther on the river, screaming in that unholy way they can scream.

It was frightening. We all got very quiet instead of yelling and screaming ourselves as would be expected from a bunch of teenagers in the dark hearing a wild and dangerous cat scream, presumably nearby. I remember even now looking at the faces of others, and seeing fear.

Even now I’m not really comfortable talking about it.

Nothing else has ever happened in my life that simply cannot be explained. I was probably 15 or so. The boy I had come out to the sandbar with was about 17. Several others had driven their cars up to what we called a “dike,” which was really a jetty sticking out into the river. We walked on the jetty — made of big rocks that required some careful footwork — to reach the sandbar. It was a pretty long trek and one didn’t want to have a foot fall down between the big rocks for fear of a cottonmouth hidden there. So we were pretty slow on the sandbar.

There must have been around 12 or 13 of us.

The panther screamed. And people’s eyes, the look of pure terror…and that’s all I remember.

The next thing I remember is being in the car of the boy I had come with, and he was driving fast on the river bottom roads back toward town. I was crying. He didn’t say a word. Just drove — fast and furious. We slid around turns and curves. I remember that. I was scared, but not of his driving or of having a wreck. I know I asked him what it was and he said he didn’t know and told me to shut up. Just quietly, he said, “shut up.”

We got back to town and he took me home. I was terrified all night, and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t remember leaving the sandbar, traversing the long jetty back to the riverbank, or anything, except being in the car hurtling toward town as fast as that ole Chevrolet would take us.

I was almost late getting home. I had to be home by 11 p.m. and it was almost 11 when I went in my house and crept to my bedroom. But it had been early in the evening when the panther screamed.

Yes, there was alcohol brought to the party. There was beer iced down in the back of a pickup truck. Some of the boys were drinking. I was not. I was drinking a Coca-Cola. I didn’t see the other kids when we were walking back to the bank, which of course, we would have had to do.

The strangest thing is that I never had a conversation with anyone else who was at that party about what had happened.

I remember later that summer there were reports of UFO sightings along the river, and I didn’t want to hear about them. For some reason. And still, I’m not at all comfortable relating what I remember. It still haunts me. Why can’t I remember having to walk, or maybe run, on the dike/jetty to get back to the bank and up to where the car was parked. I don’t remember getting into the car, either.

The Photos Are Real.

So now the Pentagon says those strange photos of UFOs are real photos, taken by military personnel.

But there’s hardly been anything said about it. It’s hardly a small thing. The military says there are UFOs and they have photographed them. But people don’t seem very curious. How can that be?

Did everyone have an experience like I did so long ago and stop looking for UFOs or wondering about them?

Have they been here all this time — it was over 50 years ago when my friends and I were frightened so badly we don’t remember what happened. Or do we not remember because we were programmed not to remember? Have all of us been programmed?

Why is our response to official news of UFOs that can’t be explained by the Pentagon just…ho hum?

Maybe someone a lot smarter than me — or many science type someone’s ought to be looking into it. Or are they? All I have are questions.

Former print journalist, former mayor, retired law enforcement officer. Writing about politics and government along with random personal essays.

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