NO UFO
By Joseph A. Citro
UFOs have been in the news a lot lately; only now we’re calling them UAPs. But no matter what you call them, UFOs, UAPs, Flying Saucers, or Aerial Whatzits, they’re here and they’re still mysterious.
Now I’ll admit right up front that I have never gone on record as having seen one. But one summer night not too long ago, I thought I was going to get my chance.
I was living in Burlington at the time, not far from Lake Champlain. One night, my telephone rang sometime after midnight, waking me up. A little late for a phone call, I thought, and somewhat nervously, I picked up. It was my friend Bob who lived up north, not far from the Canada border.
He apologized for calling so late but said, "I'm sitting out here on the deck with some friends, and for the last hour we've been watching all sorts of UFOs out over the lake. I bet you could get a look at them. I think they’re coming your way, heading south."
I yawned a half-hearted "thank you" on the way back to bed. But, because strange phenomena are a central theme in my life, I figured it would be irresponsible not to investigate.
I got dressed and dragged myself down toward Lake Champlain, only a couple of blocks away.
I was completely alone as I walked well past the last row of street lights and out onto Perkins Pier. I stood at the water's edge, looking north.
It was a striking panorama. I could see the solid mass of the breakwater and, beyond, the Bible-black bumps of the distant Adirondacks. Best of all, I had a perfect view of the vast blackness of the sky.
But I didn't see any UFOs.
At least not at first. Then – just above the distant peaks – I saw a light that seemed brighter than the surrounding scattering of stars.
I fixed my gaze on it and was soon convinced it was exactly what my friend had phoned about: a real UFO!
It was moving from side to side while neighboring stars remained perfectly still. It moved up and down, just a little, in that peculiar dance UFO researchers call the "falling leaf" motion.
And it seemed to get closer.
This is it, I thought. I'm really seeing one!
As I watched its magical motion, I began to recall all those UFO abduction stories I'd read about. Beginning to get frightened, I looked around, hoping to see someone else. But no. I was totally alone. A dark, solitary figure standing at the water's edge.
I continued to watch the dancing light until I realized what I was really seeing. My Unidentified Flying Object was in reality the light on top of the mast of a sailboat anchored out by the breakwater. The night was so dark that I was unable to see the boat or its mast, so the light seemed unattached, taking its place among the stars.
Of course, that could not have been what my friend had called to tell me about. So I decided to stay put, stand still, wait, and watch the sky.
Then I noticed someone coming toward me – a policeman. He stopped some ten feet away, and in a commanding voice said, "Everything all right?"
Hmmm, I thought, maybe I can still have some fun tonight. But do I dare? Sure, why not?"
The policeman asked a second time, "Everything all right?"
"Sure," I said, "I'm just looking for flying saucers."
At first, he didn't respond. Then he reached for his belt. I thought he was going for his gun, but instead he pulled out a flashlight. He turned it on and pointed it up into the sky, as if he thought it might reveal the distant flying objects I couldn't see on my own.
Finally, he switched it off. Turning slowly toward me, he said, "Flying saucers, huh? You can't see those around here. You have to go to Maine to see those. My brother works at the air force base up there, and he sees them all the time!"
I went home after that, thinking Maine might be just a little too far to travel that night.
Joseph A. Citro is a Vermont author, folklorist, and longtime collector of New England’s strangest stories, from ghostly happenings to local legends and unexplained curiosities. Known to many as Vermont’s “Bard of the Bizarre,” he has spent decades preserving the tales that linger along back roads, old houses, covered bridges, and quiet hillsides. In Passing Strange, Citro shares folklore with a curious eye, a storyteller’s warmth, and just enough mystery to make you look twice on the ride home.