It was one of those dark nights where every star seemed to
outshine each other. My mother and I
were driving home from the funeral of a dear family friend in Heber Springs,
Arkansas. We had spent the day with
family and friends, and had left late in the afternoon, stopping along the way
for dinner.
I’m guessing that around 11 or 11:30 p.m. we turned north
onto the Muskogee Turnpike (in northeastern Oklahoma) off of I-40. There were no other cars or trucks on the
turnpike—just darkness with the light from a lonely farmhouse every so
often. Mom was nodding off. The only sound was the radio playing country
music.
I started noticing some lights in the sky up in front of
me. My first thought was that it was a
helicopter—definitely not an airplane as they did not seem to be moving. But they were an odd, triangular shape
outlined in lights—not a shape I would attribute to a helicopter, either. As I drove north, they seemed to stay in the
same place, hovering over the turnpike.
I woke Mom up and asked her what she thought it could be. It seemed to be getting lower and closer to
the ground.
 |
| It sorta looked like this. But more lights. (Stock internet photo) |
 |
| Combine the photo above & this & you will have a good idea of how "it" looked. (Stock photo) |
At this point Mom and I were both leaning close to the
windshield trying to figure out “what in the heck is that?” We started thinking “B2 Stealth Bomber.” My Dad worked for Northrop Aircraft and was
instrumental in the creation and production of the B2. Whatever
this thing was, it was a triangular shape sort of like the Stealth. But the Stealth didn’t hover. And it certainly didn’t go as slow as this “thing
in the sky” was going.
 |
| B2 Stealth Bomber (stock photo from internet) |
I turned off the radio and rolled down the car window to
check on the sound—trying to determine if it had the signature “whomp whomp” of
a helicopter. There was NO sound. All I could hear was my car. Mom and I looked at each other. It was still hovering just a little over “highway
overpass height,” but getting closer to us.
“WHAT IS THIS?” We looked at
each other again.
Where were the other cars on the turnpike tonight??? Not a car coming or going. No other headlights but my own and the
lights from the hovering triangle, which was now almost directly above us.
As we got under it, I instinctively put on my brake and
slowed to a crawl. It was directly over
us AND ABSOLUTLELY NO SOUND. It was
almost as if the sound had been sucked out of the air. Well, no sound until my Mom looked over at me
and SCREAMED:
“WHAT ARE YOU
DOING??? DRIVE!!!!”
At which point I stomped the gas and barreled down the
turnpike doing 90 to nothing—hoping a Highway Patrol car would come along to
confirm whatever we just experienced was nothing.
Or was it? OOOO eeee ooooo!
