by John A. Keel
Asking the man why the brilliant light was turned on and off so much, he replied that the light was so powerful that it consumed a great deal of his motive power. He said he would like to stop off in Hot Springs for a few days and take the hot baths, but his time was limited and he could not. He said they were going to wind up at Nashville, Tennessee, after thoroughly seeing the country. Being in a hurry we left and upon our return, about forty minutes later, nothing was to be seen. We did not hear or see the airship when it departed.
[Signed] John J. Sumpter, Jr.
John McLemore
Subscribed and sworn to before me on the 8th day of May, 1897.
C.G. Bush, JP
As the airship sightings increased, another familiar phase began. The explainers and hoaxsters moved in. Professor George Hough of Northwestern University blamed Venus at first. But later he said, “Alpha Orionis has been roaming through its regular course in the firmament ten million years, and why it should have been settled upon in the last three weeks, and pointed out as the headlight of a mysterious aerial vehicle, is hard to explain.” (Chicago Tribune, April 11, 1897).
An electrician named A. H. Babcock built a large box kite and sent it skyward on November 26, 1896, over Oakland, California, setting off a new rash of airship reports there. (San Francisco, California, Chronicle, November 27, 1896). And paper balloons filled with gas entertained others all over the country.
“Anything from Jupiter to the moon was picked out as an airship by the credulous people,” the Portland, Oregon, Oregonian observed on November 25, 1896. “Early in the evening a fire balloon went sailing through the air, and the newspapers were overwhelmed by telephone messages from people in various parts of the city who thought they had discovered the mysterious airship.”
Newspapers that weren’t receiving any reports blithely made up some to fill the gap. The Hudson Gazette at Hudson, Michigan, ran a long piece that quoted every prominent citizen in the town (“It was quite a bit larger than the Republican majority in Hudson,” said Plim Gilman). When the editor of the Adrian, Michigan, Weekly Times and Expositor received his copy of the Gazette, he ordered his Hudson correspondent to look into the matter. On April 17, the Weekly Times and Expositor printed (with relish, no doubt): “The sensational report of the airship having been seen by many reputable citizens of this place turns out to be a huge fake. Hudson did not propose to be behind the times, so one of our enterprising editors set his imagination to work and produced a half column sensation. The airship is very likely as filmy as the aforesaid article.”
More bizarre explanations were offered, too. In discussing the “moving lights of fires… said to have been seen nightly on Saginaw Bay off Caseville during the past week,” the Benton Harbor, Michigan, Evening News noted on April 1, 1897, that “the superstitious believe that they are produced by the ghosts of those who were lost with the steamer Oconto which was wrecked on Big Charity Island a few years ago.”
A “wheel” fell out of the sky near Battle Creek, Michigan, and was retrieved by a well-to-do farmer named George Parks. Parks and his wife were crossing a field when they saw “a very bright object that appeared to be about 100 feet from the earth and swiftly approaching.” As it flew low over them, emitting a humming sound, something fell to the earth and buried itself in the ground. Mr. Parks reportedly dug it up the next morning and “found it to be a large wheel made of aluminum, about three feet in diameter, and a turbine in shape.” He kept the object as a memento and displayed it on his farm in Pennfield, Michigan (Detroit, Michigan, Evening News, April 15, 1897).
A Mrs. Wyngate “residing just over the line of Charleston township” was one of the witnesses who reported seeing a brilliant white light around 10 P.M. on the night of March 31. She said that “she distinctly heard human voices from above at the time of the occurrence” (Detroit Evening News, April 1, 1897).
Others around the country were also hearing voices in the sky. “I saw the airship last night at 10:30 P.M. over my barn,” one Bid Osborne wrote to the Lansing, Michigan, State Republican (April 17, 1897). “About 800 feet long—big brute—row of Japanese lanterns all along top—large wide sail like a fantail dove—dark bay in color—and I heard voices from above—sounded like Jim Baird and Charlie Bicher—no fake—make affidavit.”
Another man in nearby Pine Lake, Michigan, named William Megiveron, told the same newspaper that he was awakened by a tap on his window and the glare of light that at first blinded him. The Republican continues:
On stepping out into the night, he was accosted by a voice from above, which told him that the light was from the airship; that during the afternoon the ship had been lying concealed behind a bank of clouds over the lake, and that a stray shot from the gun of some duck hunters had injured one of the ship’s wings, and they were laying by for repairs. William then says that he was directed to prepare four-dozen egg sandwiches and a kettle of coffee for the crew, and when prepared, the provender was hoisted on board with a scoop fully as large as a freight car and paid for in Canadian quarters. William further says that the aerial monster appeared about 300 feet above the lake, but only the outlines were visible on account of the brilliant searchlight which made everything below as bright as day and above as dark as midnight during a cyclone. He observed a red light at each end and thinks the ship was fully a half a mile long. All appeals to be taken aboard were met with a merry “Ha! Ha!” But William says he thinks the occupants hailed from either Kentucky or Milwaukee as they asked for a corkscrew. Bill said if he knew their address, he would have the whole crew arrested for violating the fish law, for the light reflected so strongly on the lake that it was no trouble for the occupants to pick out the biggest and best fish in the lake with a long-handled spear. Just before daylight, the ship sailed off toward the city. The whir of machinery was plainly discernible for several moments.
It sounds as if Megiveron were pulling somebody’s leg, or maybe the editor of the Republican was doing it for him.
The editor of the Daily Chronicle, Muskegon, Michigan, may have been doing some leg pulling, too, with this next item, published on April 30. But there is also a chance that he may have taken a real report and added a few touches. It’s difficult to decide:
Last night at 11:30 this town [Holton] received a visit from the wonderful airship. It came from the north and descended till it was about 200 feet from the ground, directly over the bridge. It was lighted with electricity and loaded with revelers who were making a good deal of noise.
The music was entrancing, the like of which never was heard in this place. It wasn’t long before everybody was on the street to look and listen, many in their nightclothes. Not a few thought the Judgment Day had come. It was about 300 feet long, tail about 40 feet. Its breadth and depth about 90 feet. It stayed fifty-five minutes. Its tail commenced whirling and it moved off toward Fremont. But just as it began to move, a grappling hook was let down and caught one of our most truthful citizens who was instantly hoisted on board and carried away. The truthful citizen came back on the 11:30 train from White Cloud and has been talking ever since about aerial navigation.
Such hoary tales provided comedy relief during the flap. The newspapers generally took the matter lightly when the stories first started to appear, making wry comments about the quality of the whiskey in the flap areas, etc. But as the reports poured in and the objects began to appear over the cities where the skeptical newspapers were based, the tone of the published reports grew more serious. Something strange was going on, and the more responsible newspapers began to wonder what it was really all about.
One of the most celebrated cases of the period, the story of Alexander Hamilton’s cow, has been widely reprinted in practically every UFO book extant, and we will therefore just summarize it here. Hamilton claimed that he and his family saw a cigar-shaped object swoop down over his farm near Vernon, Kansas, sometime in the middle of April. “It was occupied by six of the strangest beings I ever saw,” he declared. “They were jabberin
g together, but we could not understand a syllable they said.”
He described the object as being 300 feet long with a transparent glass carriage underneath. “It was brilliantly lighted within, and everything was clearly visible. There were three lights: one like an immense searchlight and two smaller, one red, the other green. The large one was susceptible of being turned in every direction… Every part of the vessel which was not transparent was of a dark reddish color.” A “great turbine wheel about 30 feet in diameter” revolved underneath.
As his little group watched, the machine began to buzz and rise upward. Then it paused directly over a three-year-old heifer, which apparently was caught in the fence. “Going to her,” Hamilton said, “we found a cable about half an inch in thickness, made of the same red material, fastened in a slip knot around her neck, one end passing up to the vessel and tangled in the wire [fence].”
He tried to free the calf but couldn’t. So he cut the wire and watched helplessly as the ship and calf rose slowly into the air and sailed away. The next day the branded hide, legs, and head of the animal were found on the property of Lank Thomas, who lived about four miles away.
Farmer Hamilton not only signed an affidavit, but he collected the town’s most prominent citizens, including the local sheriff, justice of the peace, doctor, and postmaster, and had them all sign a statement testifying that they had known him for from fifteen to thirty years “and that for truth and veracity we have never heard his word questioned and that we do verily believe his statement to be true and correct.” (Yates Center, Kansas, The Farmer’s Advocate, April 23, 1897.)
This case is significant not only because of the detailed description of the transparency of the object, but because it was the first of a long line of cattle-rustling reports concerning UFOs. The theft and mutilation of dogs, cattle, and horses have become unpleasantly commonplace in flap areas.
Texas had more than its share of sightings during 1897, and many of them were concentrated in the region where John Martin had reported seeing a flying saucer in 1878. On April 22, 1897, Mr. John M. Barclay conversed, allegedly, with a man from an oblong machine with wings and brilliant lights “which appeared much brighter than electric lights.” He had been awakened about 11 P.M. by his furiously barking dog, and when he looked outside, he saw the object hovering stationary about 15 feet above the ground. It circled a few times and landed in a nearby pasture. Barclay grabbed his rifle and went to investigate. When he was about thirty yards from the ship, he was met “by an ordinary mortal” who asked him to put his gun aside.
“Who are you?” Mr. Barclay asked.
“Never mind about my name; call it Smith,” the man replied. “I want some lubricating oil and a couple of cold chisels if you can get them, and some bluestone. I suppose the saw mill hard by has the two former articles, and the telegraph operator has the bluestone. Here’s a ten-dollar bill; take it and get us those articles and keep the change for your trouble.”
Mr. Barclay reportedly asked him, “What have you got down there? Let me go and see it.”
“No,” the man said quickly. “We cannot permit you to approach any nearer, but do as we request you and your kindness will be appreciated, and we will call you some future day and reciprocate your kindness by taking you on a trip.”
Barclay located some oil and the chisels, but he couldn’t get the bluestone. He returned and tried to give the man back the ten-dollar bill, but it was refused. “Smith” shook hands with the Texan, thanked him, and asked him not to follow him to the object. Barclay asked him where he was from and where he was going.
“From anywhere,” Smith answered. “But we will be in Greece day after tomorrow.”
He climbed aboard the object, there was a whirring noise, and it was gone “like a shot,” according to Barclay. The newspapers in Rockland, Texas, said that he was “perfectly reliable.”
That same night “a prominent farmer” near Josserand, Texas, also had a confrontation with the airship pilots. Mr. Frank Nichols claimed that he was awakened around midnight by the whirring of machinery. “Upon looking out, he was startled upon beholding brilliant lights streaming from a ponderous vessel of strange proportions, which rested upon the ground in his cornfield.” Like Barclay, he went outside to investigate.
Before he’d gotten very far he was met by two men with buckets who asked for permission to draw water from his well. He told them to go ahead, and they invited him to visit their ship. There he said he conversed freely with six or eight individuals and apparently was shown the machinery, which “was so complicated that in his short interview he could gain no knowledge of its workings.”
Nichols said that they told him that “five of these ships were built in a small town in Iowa. Soon the invention will be given to the public. An immense stock company is now being formed and within the next year the machines will be in general use.” The motive power was supposedly “condensed electricity.” Mr. Nichols, the newspapers said, was “a man of unquestioned veracity.”
This “invention” story spread, as you will see, and appears to support the possibility of an unexpected hoax. But before we explore the hoax question, there are two more contact cases that deserve examination.
An apparently well-known and highly reputable man identified as “Ex-Senator Harris” said that he had been awakened at 1 A.M. Wednesday, April 21, 1897, by a strange noise, and he was astonished to see the celebrated airship descending on his property outside of Harrisburg, Arkansas. He stepped outside and was met by the craft’s occupants, conversing with them as they busied themselves “taking on a supply of fresh well water.” Senator Harris said there were two young men, a woman and an elderly man on board.
“The old gentleman,” the Senator is quoted as saying (Harrisburg, Arkansas, Modern News, April 23, 1897), “wore a heavy set of dark, silken whiskers, which hung down near his waist. He had jet black eyes and a deep, firm expression.”
Whereas the airship occupants did not seem especially informative in the other contact cases of the period, this elderly gentleman talked his head off. He seemed to be familiar with the newspapers in St. Louis, Missouri, and referred to a story which had appeared in the St. Louis Republic “about twenty-six years ago.” Here’s the way Senator Harris quoted him:
In that paper there was an account of a scientific invention made by a gentleman whose name I will not mention, by which the laws of gravitation were entirely and completely suspended. He was offered big sums of money for it by several syndicates in this country and also had large offers from Paris, London, and many other places. During the time he was considering offers he had the invention securely locked in a safety deposit vault in New York City. Before he had accepted any of the offers he was taken violently ill, and after lingering a few weeks died, leaving his invention in the vault. This man was my uncle, and he had partially confided the secret to me, but not sufficiently for me to do anything without the original invention. After the lapse of about nineteen years I managed to secure the original, and having plenty of money at my disposal and having devoted my time and talent during the past seven years to experimenting, I have an airship which is almost perfection, but I am not quite through experimenting, and so I continue to travel at night to keep from being detected. I will make an attempt to visit the planet Mars before I put the airship on public exhibition. Weight is no object to me. I suspend all gravitation by placing a small wire around an object. You see I have a 4-ton improved Hotchkiss gun on board, besides about ten tons of ammunition. I was making preparations to go over to Cuba and kill off the Spanish army if hostilities had not ceased, but now my plans are changed and I may go to the aid of the Armenians. To use this improved gun we only have to pour the cartridges into a hopper and press a button and it fires 63,000 times per minute. No, gravitation is not in my way. I place my wire around this 4-ton gun and hold it with one hand and take aim. Oh, I could place my anti-gravitation wire around the national Capitol building and take it by the dome and bring it over
and set it down in Harrisburg as easy as I could an inkstand. Distance is almost overcome; why, we came over the suburbs of Dallas at 12:10, less than an hour ago, and we have traveled very slowly. I could take breakfast here, do my shopping in Paris and be back here for dinner without inconvenience, as soon as I get my new propellers completed.
He offered Senator Harris a ride in the craft, but Harris declined. So the man and his crew of three climbed back aboard, and the object rose into the night.
Now this whole tale sounds like another editorial concoction. There has never been any kind of gun that could fire 63,000 times per minute, and all of the talk about antigravity smells of a put-on. Yet the story contains some interesting ingredients. The interjection of the Cuban crisis that then existed, and which later led to the Spanish-American War, and the mention of the Armenians who were then being slaughtered by the Turks, falls into a familiar pattern found in all contactee stories; i.e., the total awareness of contemporary events. And if the story isn’t a fabrication, then the bearded man chose, either by accident or design, a first-rate witness to tell it to—an ex-Senator. In the story he carefully planted the important points that the airship was a secret terrestrial invention that would soon be made public. Other contactees in other areas were repeating the same thing.