When UFOs Were for Crazy People

Now the government calls them UAPs and holds press conferences.

Belief in Unidentified Flying Objects (UFOs) for decades occupied the exclusive domain of conspiracy theorists, late-night AM radio callers, and guys who stored canned beans in underground bunkers.

Back then, if you talked about flying saucers in public, people looked at you the same way they’d look at someone claiming Bigfoot stole their lawnmower.

Today they call them Unidentified Aerial Phenomena (UAP), which sounds a lot more respectable and government-funded. Somewhere along the line, UFOs got a promotion.

I’ll admit it. My fascination started when I read Erich von Däniken and his wildly popular book “Chariots of the Gods?” Von Däniken argued that extraterrestrials have been visiting Earth since ancient times and that many of the “angels” described in holy writings like the Bible and Torah may have been visitors from somewhere beyond our galaxy.

Was it far-fetched? Absolutely.

Did teenage me eat it up like Buford gas station beef jerky on a Wyoming road trip? Also absolutely.

I tend to trust my own observations more than theories. That brings me to one unforgettable weekend in 1980.

I was reading the front page of the “Casper Star-Tribune” when I came across a story about strange UFO sightings at the Morton Pass area along Wyoming Highway 34 between Wheatland and Laramie. The property belonged to Pat McGuire and his family.

The sketch by Marina Wormus illustrated the story by Greg Bean.

Now this wasn’t your standard “my cousin saw lights after six Coors Banquets” kind of story.

McGuire claimed he’d been abducted multiple times. According to reports, hypnotic regression sessions conducted by Professor Leo Sprinkle at the University of Wyoming revealed encounters with alien beings who supposedly instructed him to drill a water well on otherwise useless land.

The result? A gusher that provided enough to irrigate alfalfa fields.

No UFO story is complete without at least one detail that makes everybody tilt their head sideways. McGuire flew an Israeli flag over the well because he said the Star of David adorned the aliens’ belt buckles.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Naturally, I talked a few friends from Gillette to load into a van and headed south in search of extraterrestrials.

We camped out on the property and, sure enough, saw strange lights moving in the distance over the prairie sky. Were they spacecraft? Military exercises? Reflections? Atmospheric weirdness?

I’ll tell you this. When you’re standing in the middle of the Wyoming night with nothing around but wind, sagebrush, and stars the size of dinner plates, your imagination becomes very open-minded.

I’d call it a close encounter of the “pretty darn interesting” kind.

Over the years, I’ve become less interested in little green men and more interested in the spiritual side of the phenomenon.

Oddly enough, evangelist Billy Graham wrote in his book “Angels: God’s Secret Agents,” speculated that extraterrestrials could be part of God’s creation.

I’ve wondered if what ancient people described as angels might overlap with what modern people describe as UFO encounters.

It’s harder to laugh the subject off now that the Department of Defense has released footage and reports from military pilots describing UAP. When fighter pilots start saying, “Yeah, we saw something weird moving at impossible speeds,” suddenly the old UFO crowd doesn’t seem quite so crazy.

Well, slightly less crazy.

I still don’t know what I saw over Morton Pass all those years ago, but it made for one heck of a Wyoming weekend.

Unlike the aliens, the memories have never disappeared.

VWs are life, Gregg Allman RIP

 

I traded my ’93 Eurovan for a new Golf Sportwagen. It’s named after Gregg Allman.

 
I saw country tock bluesman Gregg Allman died. My car is named after him.

My VW life has gone full circle. In 1979 I drove a new white VW Scirocco. It was a replacement for a sky blue Ford Pinto station wagon that was in a rear end collision with an oil field mud truck. 

Luckily, it didn’t explode. The differential bolt did get jammed against the gas tank. Had I been at a complete stop, it may have been a different story. I was slowing down to take the turn towards The 3003 Club – that’s another good story for another day – under the Burlington Northern tressel by where the Fireside used to be.

My lawyer and fellow 3003 Club member, Thomas Padget, worked over the insurance company and I finally was paid. The Pinto was surplussed to Rick Thamer when he was on his way to Lubbock. I bought the Scirocco in Laramie.

Anyway, I can’t remember who went, but a bunch of us drove from Gillette to Denver in early August to see the Allman Brothers at the Red Rocks. Maybe John and Dara Corkery remember who else went. I know Mike the News Record photog was in the car.

When we rolled into Denver, the VW threw a timing belt and was towed to Mountain States VW on South Colorado Blvd. After the show, I was dropped off at a motel nearby – across from the Celebrity Sports Center. We had multiple rides.

My car was fixed the next day. While waiting, I walked down to a matinee at the Century Theater and saw ‘Alien’ in 70mm. There were a few people sitting in this huge round theater. The newborn space monster scene was alarming on that gigantic screen!

I must have returned to Gillette in one piece.  when I moved to Lander a year or two later. I didn’t drive it much for a couple years since I lived in an apartment above the Ace Hardware store on Main Street – mixed use urban living before it was hip. What happened to the Scirocco? I sold it to Bill Sniffin

Meanwhile, 47 years later, I decided it was time to bag the old hobby VWs in favor of something more practical. Over the years, I’ve tinkered with air cooled engines – a ’63 Bug, ’65 Karmann Ghia, ’72 Super Beetle convertible. I decided to get more modern with a ’95 Eurovan Winnebago and ’93 Weekender. 

The ’93 was a bit of a lemon on it’s last legs and rather than hassle with selling it myself, I chanced upon Emich VW – formerly Mountain States – which deals Eurovans. I got a good offer – even though I got worked over pretty well by the mechanic like I was selling on ‘Pawn Stars’. 

I ended up with a 2015 Golf Sportwagen – a chopped down Eurovan. It’s the first new car I’ve owned since the Scirocco and the first with airbags.

That Colorado Blvd neighborhood has totally changed and the VW dealership is an island now surrounded by big box retail, but pulling into that parking lot brought back some good memories. I named the car ‘Gregg”.