I think I'll recount once more an experience I had in December, 1964, I believe it was. Of course, there are several people on the Mudcat who may go back in the annals of the 'Cat and say that what I relate now is not what I claimed some years before. So be it. I can't be arsed, as some might say, to go back and see what I wrote before.

Anyway, I was on my way home on a country road about 2:30 one night without my little daughter whom I'd left at the babysitter's because I was coming down from the hills in the morning next day. I was living in the foothills of the Coast Range about 7 miles (if I remember correctly) from town.

As I passed by a farmyard on my left I saw a row of what looked like red and green windows of a large airplane on the other side of tall Douglas firs. The "windows" were very low, much lower than a plane would travel. I rolled down my window- but it was perfectly quiet out there.

Bemused, I drove on and down a slope and then a sharp turn to the right. Just before the curve at about an 11 o'clock position (but a little lower) I saw a 'moon', round but a little squashed from the top, glowing orange but not emitting light, just self-contained. Startled, I looked up at the sky and found the real moon, which was in a crescent stage. The round moon traveled parallel to me; it was closer and a little higher than the trees across the field that traced a small stream.

At that point I went into a still kind of place inside myself, not really even thinking. I remember telling myself or hearing someone saying, It's all right. Just be calm. It's all right."

I was maybe a couple of hundred yards down the road from the curve when suddenly it just zinged through me: This is how people disappear! and I stepped on the gas.

(At this point I don't think I had ever heard of anyone disappearing- I have no idea of where that thought came from.)

Anyway the very first driveway I came to was on the right hand side and I turned in on it. Poor choice. It was bumpy and rutted and long. I pulled into the farmyard and turned off the motor and just sat there. No dog barked, no lights went on.

After a few minutes, not knowing what else to do, I started the car and turned it around and bumped back down the driveway.

I still had about 4 miles to go and I drove as fast as I dared on such a winding road and kept my eyes just on the road. I didn't want to see anything else.

About a mile from home, just as I went into a tight turn on the road (a narrower road along a creek, the third road that my course required) something made me look into my back seat. It was all lit up from the rear window- and if I'd had time I could have seen every toy back there. It was not a glaring light; rather it was a mellow orange, very much like that of the "moon" I had seen in the sky.

I whipped my head around, made it around the turn and sped home. In my own yard I drove as close to my front door as I could and ran into the house.

And that was the end of that.

Looking back at it today I can see that it might be said that I saw something I couldn't explain. filled in the details with data that is unproven and panicked. I can't help that. I only know what I saw and didn't see, and how I reacted.