“Anybody chase it?” I asked.
“No. They didn’t have time to take off, I guess. This I.N.S. guy said it was going like hell. Fast as a jet, anyway.”
“Did he say what it looked like?”
“The Air Force boys said it was as big as a C-47,” said Jack. “Maybe bigger. It had a reddish-orange exhaust streaming out behind. They could see it for miles.”
“If you hear any more, let me know,” I said. Jack promised he would.
“What do you think they are?” he asked me.
“It’s got me stumped. Russia wouldn’t be testing missiles over here. Anyway, I can’t believe they’ve got anything like that. And I can’t see the Air Force letting pilots get killed to hide something we’ve got.”
One week later, I heard that a top-secret unit had been set up at Wright Field to investigate all saucer reports. When I called the Pentagon, they admitted this much, and that was all.
In the next few months, other flying-disk stories hit the front pages. Two Eastern Airline pilots reported a double-decked mystery ship sighted near Montgomery, Alabama. I learned of two other sightings, one over the Pacific Ocean and one in California. The second one, seen through field glasses, was described as rocket-shaped, as large as a B-29. There were also rumors of disks being tracked by radar, but it was almost a year before I confirmed these reports.
When Purdy wired me, early in May of ’49, I had half forgotten the disks. It had been months since any important sightings had been reported. But his message quickly revived my curiosity. If he thought the subject was hot, I knew he must have reasons. When I walked into his office at 67 West 44th, Purdy stubbed out his cigarette and shook hands. He looked at me through his glasses for a moment. Then he said abruptly: