Okay, More About UFOs! And Ghosts!

By Si Dunn

I have been blogging for more than a year, and the postings that have drawn the biggest readership have dealt with UFOs and ghosts, not with Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin or the economic meltdown.

So, enough politics for now. I've voted early. And enough about the economy for now. I've gone out and spent a few hundred bucks. I've done about all that I can do to keep the national and global economies afloat. Now it's up to you and everyone else.

UFOs! Ghosts!
So let's move on to what Dateline: Oblivion's readers really want: UFOs and ghosts.

One of my first blog postings last year dealt with the time I saw a UFO very clearly in broad daylight. Here's a link to it.

Even earlier than that, however, I saw a UFO in daylight during a 1952 flying saucer "flap." (That's what they used to call outbreaks of frequent UFO sightings.) I was eight years old at the time, riding in an uncle's car as we drove along a straight, flat highway in Southern Mississippi, probably heading from Laurel to Hattiesburg. Most likely, it was summer, because that's when my family used to make driving trips from Little Rock to Hattiesburg to visit my mother's relatives.

Suddenly, the car started bucking and the car's engine started sputtering. My uncle pushed in the clutch to try to keep the motor running. Just then, a light-colored, disc-shaped object bigger than the car streaked silently overhead, following the highway. It quickly disappeared as we watched it through the windshield.

As soon as the UFO was gone, the car's engine quit sputtering, and we resumed driving. I don't remember what was said after that. I'm sure my uncle and my father had heard about flying saucers. I doubt that they filed a report. But I still remember the disc zooming straight down the road toward Hattiesburg and disappearing from sight in just seconds.

As for Ghosts...
Have I ever seen a ghost? I think so. The day after my father's funeral, as I was leaving Little Rock to return to Texas, I saw a man hitchhiking right at the edge of town. He looked exactly--exactly--like my father, and he looked right at me as I slowed my car.

Something, however, told me to not stop, so I didn't. I drove past the man and continued down the road. In my rearview mirror, I could see him watching me as I drove away. He seemed to keep watching me for a long time.

What might have happened if I had stopped and picked him up? Was he really my father's ghost? I have no idea. But I have never been sorry that I didn't stop.

I think it was a sign or a message. Or maybe it was a test, something about letting go and getting on with life. If so, I think--I hope-- I passed it.

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