Incident at Devils Den, a true story …

I’m a 64-year-old retired lawyer and former Assistant Attorney General with an extraordinary story to tell. Every word of it is true. For fear of losing my job and damage to my reputation in the legal community, I kept a secret. I was silent for forty years until circumstances in 2012 compelled me to eventually speak out.

In 1977, a friend and I went on a two-night camping trip to a state park known as Devils Den. We had planned the trip as a wilderness adventure. Instead of a wilderness adventure we experienced an encounter with something unknown and unimaginable. Hoping to photograph eagles we sought a remote area of high ground. With the road no more than a trail we came to a high plateau. It was the perfect location with the forest to our back and a large open meadow in front of us. We made camp and settled in for an evening around the campfire. Late in the evening I noticed the usual forest sounds of crickets and tree frogs had stopped. It was dead silent. The silence unnerved me but my friend Toby assured me our laughter and chatter had quieted them and they’d soon return. But I still felt unsettled.

Looking to the west Toby asked, “Where those lights there before?” I turned to look. There on the horizon sat a perfect tight triangle of three very bright stars. We studied them for a few minutes and speculated what they might be. We first thought they were airplane lights but dismissed the idea because of the odd formation. Then they began to move. They rotated once as if on an axis and began a slow ascent into the night sky. They moved in sync as if a single object instead of three. After a few minutes it became obvious that this was one object and not three separate lights. We watched it for some time. The lights on each point of the triangle grew brighter and expanded. The points stayed equidistant to one another as it gained altitude and speed. The area inside the triangle was solid black, much darker than the surrounding night sky. As it traveled over stars they would blink-out and blink back on again as it moved by. Soon, it grew large enough to devour entire fields of stars. We watched as the triangle made a steady trek toward our campsite, growing exponentially as it approached. At a height of about 2,000 feet above us it came to a halt. It was enormous. It was as if someone cut a perfect triangle from a sky filled with a billion stars.

As we watched this giant triangle over our heads I recall that I suddenly felt disinterested. My friend was equally apathetic and hardly a word was spoken between us. The crickets and tree frogs had not returned but I no longer felt unnerved. Picking up a flashlight Toby said, “I wonder what will happen happen if I try to signal it?” I was too slow to snatch it from his hand. Holding it up and he flashed his light three times at the center of the triangle. We waited to see if anything would happen. We didn’t have long to wait.

From the center of the triangle a beacon of light about the diameter of a softball came down as if someone had flipped a switch. The light was centered on our campfire, not much more than embers by now. It was intense, like a high power searchlight cutting through fog. We watched disinterested like casual observers. Then as quickly as it appeared it switched off. In its place came a laser-like beam of light no broader than a pencil. It darted quickly and danced about the campsite as if scanning us. The beam struck my chest and head. I recall it struck Toby as well as it darted around the campsite. Then it occurred to me that Toby had been wrong. The nighttime noises of the forest had not returned. But something would take its place …