CLOSE ENCOUNTER WITH A STRANGE BOOMERANG OVER BLOCK ISLAND, RHODE ISLAND

CLOSE ENCOUNTER WITH A STRANGE BOOMERANG OVER BLOCK ISLAND, RHODE ISLAND

JULY 13, 1969     …..     NEW SHOREHAM RHODE ISLAND

 During the summer of 1969, when I was eighteen years old, I visited Block Island. After the ferry boat from New London, Conn., arrived in New Shoreham, I headed out alone to Black Rock Point a little past the Mohegan Bluffs on the island’s south coast. There, I found an abandoned, weather-beaten, wooden lean-to shaped like a Boy Scout’s tent sunken into one of the bluffs, about halfway up the slope, or just a little more. I’ve always called it a “lean-to,” but strictly speaking, it was a bit different in that the two narrower sides were open and the roof came to a peak in the middle. It was nine or ten feet long and maybe five feet high at the peak. After awhile the tide came in, and along with the darkness, a thick fog. That night I heard all sorts of strange sounds, which I attributed to fatigue, nerves, and the noise of the sea and wind. At first I thought I heard voices on the shore below  but there was no sign of any visitor. “My ears are playing tricks on me,” I thought. After awhile, it seemed as if several people were speaking a few feet away, near the farther end of the lean-to. Yet their words were not quite recognizable; it was as if they were speaking in an adjacent dimension. This too I chalked up to nerves. Then there was a loud crash against the front wall of the lean-to, the side that faced the sea, as if it had been struck by a rock. This was no figment of my imagination. In terror, I ran outside, and called out. But there was no reply. I tried to examine the wall of the lean-to, but could hardly see a thing in the dark. The wind was blowing and the tides were making a lot of noise at the shore below. I quickly scrambled up the steep clay incline, using both my hands and feet. The fog was so thick that I was nearly blind, but dared not stop. As I got over the crest, I sensed a presence over my head, but I didn’t look up; just kept running into the miasma across the bed of rubbery green stuff that grew profusely atop the bluffs. A moment later I found myself encircled in a wide ring of light, despite the fog. It was as if a huge floodlight had been focused on me from above as I ran, although this seemed to be physically impossible, given the fog.

 Then on the upper periphery of my vision, I saw what I first imagined was a giant bird about the size of a small plane silently gliding over my head, seeming to shut off the light as it flew by. (In the MUFON checklist, I called this a boomarang shape, but it’s really hard to be sure. The sizes and distances are also very rough guesses. And I never saw it in proximity to the horizon, just when it was above me.) I kept running. Eventually I reached the paved road and hitched a ride back to town with two guys around nineteen or twenty years old who lived on the island with their families. On the way, they asked me what I had been doing near Black Rock Point at night. When I told them what had just occurred, they were astonished. “Didn’t you notice that all of the houses out there are empty? Everyone knows—that’s the most haunted part of the Island! Nobody goes out there after dark!” Because of this, for decades I believed that the entire episode was some sort of poltergeist phenomenon. But now I’m inclined to believe that it was a UFO experience – my first and I hope, my last.  NOTE: The above image is a rendering.

 This case is under investigation by Chief Investigator Ken Pfeifer of MUFON Rhode Island.

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