The coffin-shaped object:
I believe I was a freshman or sophomore in high school. It was Fall, 1951 or 1952, after school, and I practiced dribbling a basketball on our concrete driveway in front of our family house. As I practiced what I thought might be deceptive moves that just might become valuable during a real basketball game, I heard a somewhat indistinguishable hissing roar that seemed to originate from across the street and about one house lot to my East.
Placing the ball on my hip, with my arm dangling over it, I turned and saw a churning fog hissing and roaring into the atmosphere near the top of a telephone or electric pole at the alley that ran north to south between the lots. I got shocked, but really more puzzled to see a somewhat gray object develop in the hissing roaring haze and what seemed to be a more dense fog by this time.
Being a somewhat mindless, mischievous young teenage boy, I tried to keep my eyes on it while again attempting to dribble the basketball on the driveway. Then I suddenly heard my mother calling me to come into the house for supper. I grabbed the ball and turned toward the house. My mother walked up behind the screen door. She again insisted that I “Come into the house immediately for supper.” Then in a just somewhat panicked voice, she called out, “What is that!”
I turned toward the street. I saw what appeared to be a coffin-shaped object descend slowly from the top of the telephone pole to the end of our driveway. As it slowed down, it rested in the middle of the paved street and sat there motionless. What was most astonishing was that I saw a fluctuating distorted air enveloping it.
I turned to my mother and asked her what it was, but she obviously didn’t know. She said, “I don’t know what it is. But supper is ready and I need you to come in now.” She turned and walked toward the kitchen.
As I again turned toward the street, I saw the coffin gently rise above the ground and hover next to the top of a street light located across the street and one house lot to my west. My mother kept calling.
Knowing I would be in serious trouble if I didn’t show up on time for supper, I walked to the front door and looked back at the coffin that remained there hovering by the street light.
As I arrived at the supper table in the kitchen, our typical family discussions were already taking place. And by the time I had a chance to explain what I saw, my memory of it began to fade away.
I don’t believe we mentioned a word about it after that. Even if I did mention something about it, from that time on nobody remembered…until my “1986 flood of recollections,” i.e!