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Two strange sensations in my chest woke me this morning around 4:30.  One was the sunburn seared on from floating in a tube on a lake while Quarantining for the past few days.  The other was anticipation for what this day will bring.  I sprung out of bed like there was a spider in it.

Me, Quarantining at undisclosed location in New England

Coffee and excitement brewed minutes later.  This is the day I have been waiting for, for quite some time.  Days melded in a pot of memories with years, decades, half a lifetime.  

Chapter One of my life began at age nineteen, in early August 1992, nearly 28 years ago.  That story gets told tonight on a show called Unidentified.  I thought the day would never come.  Even a few weeks ago I had doubts.  I sent phishing texts and emails to people involved with the show, "Can you share any updates on Unidentified with me?"  

The first response was from Luis Elizondo.  He sent me a text in early June saying the series would air in a month.  I had expected it to premier around Memorial Day, like it did last year.  It was late.  Lue was not sure which episode I would be in but thought it might be four or five.

Next, I saw a response to a Tweet on my Twitter feed from Executive Producer Anthony Lappé, this past week.  He said he thought I would be in the next episode, number three.  I was surprised to hear from Anthony.  I did not think anyone from the show followed me.  He must have searched on #Unidentified and came across one of my Tweets.

Final confirmation came yesterday afternoon around 3:30.  I received a call from a Massachusetts number.  I almost let it go to voicemail because I thought it was another call for "Mamma Jamma."  Someone put my cell phone number on a credit application, years ago, and opened up a bunch of accounts in the name Mamma Jamma and then defaulted on all of them.  I will not say it was identity theft because I do not think my number was used intentionally.  More likely it was a random number which worked the first time so why not re-use it over and over?  I think most crooks are lazy like that.  

Anyway, there was a time when I would get several calls a day, every day, for Mamma Jamma.  The first time I picked up the phone and heard that, I said, "WHO???"  I laughed.  It sounded like a prank.  Mamma Jamma.  Really?  It got old fast, though.  The worst was when it got automated.  I could not just tell the person calling that it was a wrong number.  Robodialers should be illegal.  It took a long time to convince each of these creditors that I was not the droid they were looking for and to leave me alone.  

The calls stopped for a few years.  Then the accounts must have been sold off to some other bottom feeders and none of the account notes were transferred.  So recently I have been getting the calls again.  Who else would be calling me at Close-of-Business on a summer Friday?  By 3:30, everyone was supposed to be in The Hamptons or The Poconos or The Catskills or The Cape Codses.  What good could possibly come from answering this call, I thought?

At first I was sorry I answered.  It was someone claiming to be a producer with A&E.  I had never heard of the guy.  The name sounded made up, one step short of Mamma Jamma.  I asked him to spell it so I could look it up.  It was a bad connection.  It sounded like he was talking on one of those Bluetooth setups where it is not clear where the microphone is, which makes the user think they look really cool.  Let me be the one to break it to these people, there is nothing cool about sounding like you are mumbling with your hand over your mouth.  Get a real microphone, you attention hound!

The call dropped.  Maybe he was calling from a sweatshop call center in Mumbai or an icy shack in Siberia.    Remember, "I am Peggy?"

I tried to look the guy up.  Nothing came up on him.  My Spidey Sense said nothing was wrong but I still held some healthy skepticism.  I went back to paying my bills and catching up on emails and waited for the guy to call back.  He called back about fifteen minutes later.  The connection was better but he still sounded muffled.  It was because he was talking through a mask while riding on a speeding train to Rochester, not because of a hotshot Bluetooth system.  OK, I could see that.

I was concerned that this guy was not actually affiliated with A&E and he was trying to extract some information from me for some unknown, nefarious purpose.  He wanted to know my branch of military service and my rank when I got out.  I had already given copies of my DD214 to Unidentified's producers.  That is the form that verifies that you served - pretty much worth its weight in gold, if you want any type of military benefits.  Why would this guy want information I had already provided?

I shared my concerns with the caller.  I probably sounded paranoid but my Twitter following has increased by 50% over the past week and I have already turned down two interview requests.  This is prior to my episode even airing.  I had to be sure this was for real.

The producer emailed me from his A&E account while we were on the phone.  Then the call dropped again.  We ultimately worked it out.  He was calling because there had been an error in the first or second episode, regarding someone's rank and branch of service, and they wanted to make sure they verified everyone else's information.  How they would correct this, a day before my episode aired, I do not know.  Regardless, I verified my rank and branch of service and he verified I would be on tonight's episode.  It airs on History Channel at 10:00pm Eastern United States time.

How does it feel to see a UFO?

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This is indeed an exciting time for me.  Twenty-eight years is a long time to keep a secret - a secret that you know you should share.  I knew it at the time, as my sighting was occurring, that this was something I should tell people about.  It was monumental.  I was experiencing history.  I knew that!  So many thoughts swirled in my mind, sitting there on a little bench, deep in the Canadian woods.  Even after all this time, with my extensive vocabulary and two years of blogging experience it is difficult for me to find the words to clearly articulate how I felt, the phraseology to succinctly summarize the myriad implications I immediately surmised.  It was a big deal and I knew it, while it was happening.

Who would I tell?  What would they do with the information?  Would there be any response?  Why me?  Who would even believe this?  I was no one special.  What will people think?  What will my friends say?  Will I be viewed like the yokels the reporters dig up to explain what it is like to watch your mobile home destroyed by a tornado?  This is something I will carry around with me for the rest of my life.

Besides all the questions and implications the feeling I had at the time was one of terror.  I mention this briefly in one of my first articles, Some UFO Psychology.  I was nearly paralyzed with fright.  The whole encounter lasted up to seven minutes.  During most of that time I was afraid to move even a single muscle, lest I be spotted and then beamed up or zapped with a death ray.  I really thought that.  I know, looking at the words I am typing that saying this sounds bizarre.  But there was an enormous spaceship slowly gliding by me, close enough to hit with a "Hair Mary" football pass.  What would you think?

I am not sure if Unidentified will truly capture what I went through.  I do not see how it could.  From the few moments of preview I saw it looks like the re-creation is not right.  I feel like this is not the last time I will tell my story and that every time after this I will need to clarify a few things.  I am also concerned with how I will be portrayed.  When my second interview wrapped up, Lue Elizondo told me this is an amazing story, "if it's true."  That gave me great pause.  What did he mean, "if it's true?"  I shake my head and huffle (to sniff backwards) as I type this.  But then I smile with satisfaction.  What else can I do?

The Albatross

Tonight my story will be told.  I do not care much about how I am perceived.  At this point, I am simply relieved that I have been able to share my experience.  I feel a bit numb.  I wonder how things will change after this.  My anonymity will be lost, for some time.  Hopefully not for long; I like my life the way it is.  Whatever happens, if the information I am sharing somehow helps humanity, I will feel accomplished.  Maybe that is grandiose.  Whatever.  If it does not help anyone then, well, at the very least I will no longer have to carry this albatross around with me.  I did my part.

Enjoying this blog?

If you have seen an alien spaceship or any type of unidentified flying object (UFO) contact me using the Contact form at the bottom of this page.  You may remain anonymous if you want.  I will not ridicule you or try to tell you why you are wrong.  I get it, I saw one too.

Thank you for reading and keep an eye on the sky.