The street wasn’t like most in Philly. There were only 18 houses on our street on the one side, businesses across the street. Past the 18th house there were more businesses, a men’s sporting club and Esso gas station on the corner. All the houses had porches and between each porch an alcove that we called “clubs,” the one between my house was the favorite of all of us Rorer Streeters. The first house didn’t have a “club” so it was agreed by all of us that the small section next to their porch is that house’s “club” but everyone always forgot about it except for Linda and I.
As we were all running and hiding so as not to be detained in freedom jail, Linda and I ran up to the corner house to hide. When we got around the corner, Tioga Street was dark, like the middle of the night. We looked up and down Tioga Street, no cars were moving, and we looked at each other, confused, and then we looked back at our street. It was bathed in orange light. As we tilted our heads back and our eyes followed the light upward. . .
I do not remember anything after looking up but I do know that something happened.
The next morning, I had the mark in my hand. My mother tried to dig it out but I ran away because it hurt. When I told her what happened, she said I was only dreaming - it was no dream.
Later in my life, I was living in Altamonte Springs, Florida, and every night I would sit out on the patio mesmerized by all the stars. It was November of 1977. Appearing in the sky were two star-like images moving together. At first I thought it must be a plane. But then they stopped dead in the sky. Then they started to dance all over the sky, this way and that and they took off to the south at an unbelievable rate of speed. The next day there was a report that a few Navy guys were camping at Ocala National Park and they saw something as well.
I was around the age of five or six. I awoke to find my older sister not in her bed and we shared a bedroom. There was an orange glow coming into the room from the hall. It must be morning. I didn’t pay any attention to the fact that our bedroom window was facing east and the glow wasn’t coming from the morning sun. Jumping out of bed and bouncing into the hall, to the right is my brother’s bedroom. His door was open and he’s not in his bed. My parents’ bedroom, to the left, the door was open, as always, but they were not in bed either, which was unusual as they liked to sleep in later, with Dad being a police officer his hours were sometimes crazy. Coming down the stairs, the glow of orange was coming through the front windows that faced west and the door was wide open. Looking behind to the kitchen, Mom and Dad were not there so they must be outside. As I opened the screen door, sitting on the top step was my brother Joe and two steps down my sister Helen. They were staring, dazed. No adults were around. Every front door on the street was open and all the kids were out, the older ones sitting in a dazed state, but my friends, The Rorer Streeters, were running around playing Freedom, our favorite game. I jumped right in with my best friend Linda Thompson.