I was ten years old in 1968, living with my family in Sacramento, California. My father, mother and I were returning from dinner and bingo at the officer���s club at McClellan Air Force Base, where my father worked as a civilian contract negotiator. It was around 10:30 pm. I sat in the backseat of our Studebaker Lark; dad driving, mom in the passenger seat.
My dad and I had a silly game when driving to and from the base (which we did often): can we get all green lights on the way? He always ensured that we did by slowing and slowing the car, until the stoplight was finally green.
On that night in 1968, we were returning from the club and playing the ���green light��� game. As we approached an intersection in a very remote area between our home and the base, dad slowed and slowed, but the stoplight remained red; oh well. We stopped at the intersection.
A car pulled up next to us to wait at the light. Another pulled up behind. There were a couple of storefronts, closed for the night, at that corner. The gas station to our right was open, and servicing customers.
At once, at the same time, we all exclaimed, ���what is THAT?��� and rolled down the right side car windows. Hovering, or suspended, above the gas station was a large (two story? three story?) metal object, like a blimp tipped on its nose. It had one bright yellow light on top, and one bright white light on the bottom���so bright, that it cast sharp shadows of the gas station attendants on the ground. It looked like nothing we���d ever seen before. It wasn���t a blimp. It wasn���t a balloon. And it just appeared to us, suddenly.
We gawked out the window. It hovered quietly. There was a buzzing sound that seemed to be associated with the power lines it was on top of, above the gas station. It was a dull grey. It looked hard-shelled, and heavy, yet weightless. It seemed to be constructed of riveted panels. Other than the bright lights on top and bottom, there were no exterior features.
We then noticed the other people at the scene. The occupants in the car to our right looked over at us as we pointed and gestured to the object. They didn���t follow our pointing, but just turned away and looked straight ahead. We noticed that the gas station attendants were continuing to pump gas, and didn���t look up. The light finally turned green, and the car behind us politely beeped their horn to let us know it was time to go. We realized: no one could see the object but us. (Later it dawned on me that we weren���t able to see it, either���wouldn���t we have noticed such a large object as we pulled near to it in the car?���until all three of us saw it simultaneously once we were beneath it.)
I remember feeling confusion, excitement, and awe. I wasn���t afraid.
We drove through the intersection and immediately pulled to the curb. We all got out of the car to stand on the sidewalk and stare; other cars continued to pass us by. Within seconds of getting out of our car, the object lifted straight up without a sound, then drifted quickly away at a 45-degree angle until it was a tiny red dot in the sky. Then it was gone.
We got back in the car and drove the rest of the way home. In her typical fashion, my mother did the ditsiest possible thing: she called the fire department to report the incident (including the fact that we were returning from the officer���s club). I���m sure whoever took the call just thought she was drunk, and hung up.
The next morning we excitedly looked in the Sacramento Bee for a news report of the object that surely would be on the front page. It wasn���t...or on the second, or third page either. And we never spoke of it again.
Until years later, as an adult in my thirties, I wanted to revisit the incident to see if what I saw really happened the way I remembered it. I spoke to each of my parents, separately, and asked them what they recalled. ���Oh yes!��� they said. ���Wasn���t that odd?��� And they reported almost exactly what I remembered about it: the shape, the nearness, the color of the lights, and the fact that no one looked up at it but us.
(I���ve never heard anyone tell a similar story. I feel compelled to report it now, after all these years, since attending some lectures at the 2014 UFO Festival in McMinnville, Oregon.)