Jim48's UFO Book Excerpt

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Another copyrighted excerpt. This is a classic close encounter case. As always please leave a post. Thanks!


So read the headline on the front page of the Evansville, Indiana Press, dated Monday, August 22, 1955. The night before, between 7:00 and 10:00 p.m., something damned strange happened on a farm in Kelly, Kentucky, a little town about eight miles north of a place called Hopkinsville.
The Sutton farm in Kelly, Kentucky, could have passed for something out of the dustbowl twenty years earlier, sans the dust. They were simple folks who didn’t own a television or a telephone. Their cars and farm equipment were old. The family was deeply religious and the matriarchs took a dim view of alcohol. Like the Oakies of the Great Depression they were hard working, God-fearing and not prone to scandal. At around 7:00 p.m. on the night of August 21, Billy Ray Taylor, a teenaged relative, went out to the backyard well to get a drink of water. He quickly ran back into the house—there were eleven occupants at the time—to tell everyone that he had just seen a flying saucer. He said that it had appeared out of nowhere, came down as low as forty feet then descended into a gully far out in the fields. Well, faster than you could say “Lookie here, Uncle Jed!” the family informed young Taylor that he had probably just seen a falling star.•
About an hour later one of the dogs started barking incessantly. Taylor and Lucky Sutton went out back to see what all the fuss was about. Just then the old hound ran under the house with its tail between its legs, and Taylor and Sutton saw a figure coming out of the darkness from the field. It was almost comical looking, but eerie nonetheless. It was three and a half to four feet tall, clad in a silvery, glow-in-the-dark outfit with an oversized head and large, flap-like ears that were pointed at both ends. Its big eyes glowed yellow and the men thought they saw talons at the end of its long fingers. It moved awkwardly, with it hands flaying halfway in the air… not unlike a monkey. Honor-bound to display true Southern hospitality, the two young gentlemen stepped back into the residence just long enough to allocate a fine .22 caliber rifle and a splendid 20 gauge shotgun. The gentlemen returned outdoors for a breath of air and to open a can of whup-ass on the critter, blasting the thing from about twenty feet distant. Fully expecting bloody clumps of shredded critter to rain down on them, they were instead astonished to see it simply flip backwards, get back on its feet and scurry around the house to be lost in the darkness.
By now everyone inside was wondering what all the shooting was about. They were not initially alarmed for shooting unwanted and dangerous varmints was a common occurrence in that region. Minutes later, however, gunfire erupted from inside the house, as Lucky Sutton’s younger brother J.C. blasted through a window screen at another—or possibly the same—creature. The thing flipped over and disappeared into the night, evidently impervious to shotgun fire. Billy Ray decided to head out the front door. As he crept cautiously through the doorway, the family, straining to see outside in the pitch blackness, were horrified when they saw a claw-like hand reach down from the low front roof just as Billy Ray stepped out onto the front porch. It was almost touching his hair when Lucky Sutton brushed past him, jumped into the yard, turned, aimed high, fired and blew the creature over the roof. Pandemonium reigned as the women began to scream and the children cried. Taylor joined the Suttons outside and together they shot one of the critters out of a tree, only to watch it float to the ground and scamper away from the houselights.
The creatures, whatever they were, seemed to be physically clumsy yet adroit all at the same time. They moved swiftly enough, though with an odd gait, and always with their arms either out at their sides or waving high in the air. Incredibly, given their warm reception, they seemed more playful than threatening. Lucky Sutton blasted another one at close range, and he would later tell authorities it sounded as though the buckshot had hit something metallic.
Things seemed to calm down for a while, then the family heard something on the roof. It was another creature. Gunfire quickly knocked it off and the men watched slack-jawed as it floated a good fifty feet across the yard and came to roost atop a wooden fence. Taylor’s .22 rifle sent it fleeing into some nearby tall weeds. Another creature appeared a short time later but was driven off. The Suttons and their relatives barricaded themselves in the house, with the women and children huddled in the living room. They sat and waited, gripped by terror. It must have seemed like an eternity. At around eleven o’clock two of the men went outside and searched the property. The dog was still quivering under the house. Then the families exercised the better part of valor by piling into two cars and roaring off to the nearest police station, which was some miles away. The badly shaken adults could barely get their story out when they finally arrived. Fearing that something terrible had happened, police chief Russell Greenwell took them back to the farm, soon to be joined by state police, a deputy sheriff, military personnel from nearby Ft. Campbell and a reporter from the Evansville Press.
All agreed that it was a surreal scene… on the one hand a muggy, breezeless August night, the silence broken only by the occasional police radio chatter, but on the other a collective sense that something very strange had transpired. Chief Greenwell said that they all felt it, including the veteran law enforcement officers. The property was littered with spent shotgun shells and rifle bullet casings. The creatures left no footprints behind but then the ground was hard and dry. No one left any footprints that night. A weird, luminous patch of wild grass was found by the fence where rifle fire had driven one of the creatures away but nobody could figure out what caused it.
Predictably the story hit the AP wire and went across the country. All seven adults involved signed affidavits and drew sketches of the creatures. The families would soon regret talking to the press, for they would be portrayed as drunken hillbillies blazing away at God only knows what. Two of the family members worked at a carnival so it was suggested that they kept monkeys as pets and in their drunken revelry used them for target practice. There are some problems with that theory, however. The families were good Christian teetotalers, they did not own circus animals and there were no bloody monkey remains splattered about the property. The Air Force liked that angle, though. Monkeys. Yeah! That’ll work. Although Blue Book never officially investigated the case, monkeys or “escaped circus animals” became their stock response to inquiries. Anything was better than well, whatever the hell they were!
In an interview given at the time with nationally syndicated columnist and radio host Frank Edwards, Chief Russell Greenwell had this to say: “There is no doubt in my mind that those people—every one of them—were terrified when they got to Hopkinsville Sunday night… those people saw something strange. I don’t know what it was, but they saw it and they shot at it right through the doors and the windows and the sides of the house… the holes are there to prove it.”
So what are we to make of the events at the Sutton farm that night over fifty years ago? It is a story, like so many others, that simply hasn’t gone away. What was it they were shooting at? What would Occam have to say about this one?


As per the usual case, a story that claims extraordinary events with absolutely no physical evidence. It smells very much of a hoax.

This is typical of UFO reports. No tangible empirical, unrefutable solid scientific evidence. It is not good enough.

"Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence"---Carl Sagan
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