Stan Gordon & Me

Back around 2003, a former manager of mine shared a story at work about an odd thing that happened to her and her family when she was a child.  Typically, when stories like this are told, the storyteller (me) usually tries to give credibility to the source (my manager) by saying something like "and she doesn't believe in things like ufo's or the paranormal."  And in this case, that is totally true.  She just didn't believe in anything outside of a natural explanation, and as I get older and older, I tend to agree with her.  But not for this story.

So she must have heard me talking about something weird or unexplained (I dread to think what it might have been), and she yelled over that she had a spooky story to tell us.  This goes back to the first paragraph, as we weren't expecting this, and certainly not from her.  Let's call her Sue for the sake of the story.  Because that's her real name. 

Sue tells us that when she was a child, she and her family were sleeping over her aunt's house in Bensalem, PA on a weekend in the summer.  She said they would do that a lot and all the kids would sleep on the floor in the living room.  Like a giant slumber party where the adults would hang out, have a cook-out, drink, and have fun, and the kids would play all day and then crash on the floor in sleeping bags or make-shift beds.

A bright light.  And a sound.  

Sue says that at some point in the middle of the night the kids are startled awake by an intensely bright light and a high-pitched whirling sound.  She described the light as filling the entire front window of the living room.  The sound and the light resulted in every kid screaming.  The adults come running down because they're seeing and hearing the same thing.  Sue mentioned that her dad and uncle are screaming as well.  Things like "Oh my God!" and "What's happening!"  That part of the story gave me a chill, actually, as Sue appeared to be uncomfortable at this point, but in that good way where you're sharing something spooky and you give yourself chills.  

The light goes out.  The sound stops.  Instantly.  The adults run outside, and like every good first Act of a creepy movie, there's nothing but crickets.  Sue said that her dad was convinced that the light had been coming from a very small field across the street, so they walked over there but could find nothing in the dark.  

Act II:  The Circle.

So morning comes and the family walks across to the field to investigate in full sunlight.  According to Sue, there's a circle in the grass.  A weird gray powder-like substance in the shape of a large ring, around the size of two cars.  This part of the story made a coworker call B/S.  Sue tells us there's a polaroid photograph of the circle that proved it happened.  I'm salivating at this point.  I need that photo.  But she then adds "But we don't talk to that side of the family anymore, so I have no idea where that photo is now."  

She tells us that everyone is touching the gray substance and it's now on all of their hands.  She also added that someone at some point in the days that followed came out to investigate the circle.  She didn't know who this person was.  This person concluded it was some kind of residue from a lawnmower.  An explanation that apparently angered and insulted the owner of the field, since the tall grass hadn't been recently cut nor would they ever mow in a circular pattern.

I think I was the only one who believed Sue (the first paragraph).  I'd occasionally ask her to tell the story over the next few years.  It's a good one.  And she's a good storyteller.  

Act III:  Stan Gordon

Growing up with an interest in things unexplained, you get to know the usual faces of the men and women who have devoted their lives to this stuff.  Stan Gordon is one of those people.  I've seen him a bunch of times on documentaries and the History Channel.  We'll call him Stan for the sake of the story.

Stan has been researching high strangeness since the sixties.  And he's a fellow Pennsylvanian.  So I always wondered if Sue's story had any similarities to anything Stan had researched.  A few years ago, I sent Stan an email.  Letting him know I was a fan, and giving him a very brief  version of Sue's ufo tale.  I asked him if it sounded familiar to him, and told him it occurred in Bensalem, PA.  

I got a reply within twenty minutes.   "Can I call you?"

What???  Stan Gordon wants me to give him my number so he can call me to discuss a ufo incident?  Wuh?  Really?

Yup.

I couldn't give it quickly enough.  My phone rings and I hear my name spoken by a voice I have heard on TV for decades.  We talk about the incident in more detail, and he tells me the description was very common for a ufo flap that had occurred in that area.  I mentioned the residue and the investigator, and he told me there were a few other local groups that investigated such things back then, but he had no record or memory of investigating a gray substance.  We spoke about his research and some incidents from the past (I was in heaven) and we eventually were winding down the conversation when he asked me to ask Sue a question:  Did the incident occur in 1973 or 1974?  As that was the time frame for the other similar cases he had mentioned.  

I reach out to Sue after a ton of years (she had since retired).  It was nice to catch up, actually.  She's a great person.  The biggest heart, and extremely funny.  And to this day, every Christmas season, I make a pretty good and mega-easy egg nog recipe she gave me.  This nog always impresses (I'll share it come the season [remind me if I forget]).  

So I get to Stan's question:  Sue, would you happen to remember the year in which your ufo incident occurred?  I was telling someone about it and they were curious of the year.  

Sue answered:  I'll never forget it.  1974.

Click below for a segment from Small Town Monster's Invasion on Chestnut Ridge, featuring Stan Gordon.