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Kentucky Color: An unexplainable experience

By Billy Joe Fudge

It was a Dark Moon night in a summer of the'60's. Standing on a hillside populated by hundreds of bales of Alfalfa, just off Bird Road; I could not make out any of the store buildings just a few hundred yards away. During my youth there were no security lights to interrupt the darkness on the Ridge. I just had to guess at where Yank's store was setting and where Mr. Coomer and his brother Alton lived. Occasionally, a passing car would illuminate the scene just long enough for me to calculate how good a guesser I was.

My best friend, Daryl Fletcher and I found ourselves standing in the darkness waiting on Daryl's Dad, J W to go home to get Daryl's Mom, Deloris and his little brother, Lynn. We spoke about how we could not see Daryl's Pa Harmon's store but when we looked up we could see the furthest reaches of the Milky Way Galaxy. We talked about a lot of other things like the enormity of the Universe compared to the minutia of the molecular world.

Finally, they came bouncing across the field in J W's ton flat-bed truck. Oh and yes, it had that infamous "extension" bolted onto the back end of the bed.


Extensions always mysteriously appeared during the summer hay season and tobacco cutting time and then just as mysteriously disappeared when the frosty weather appeared. I can assure you from personal experience that the extra four feet added on to the rear of a ton truck bed was a catalyst to a many a bruise and concussion not to mention flipping unsuspecting riders skyward like a swimming pool diving board to then land with a plump; sometimes upon and among rocks and tortuous tobacco stalk stumps.

So, with nary a cloud in the sky, only an occasional passing car on Highway 61 would pull one's eye into the total darkness and away from the light bubble created by the headlights of the truck as we loaded the Alfalfa onto the truck. Deloris was the designated driver and had the old truck in Bulldog. For all you folks who might be presently and feverishly Goggling "Bulldog" to search out this aberrant and unknown definition, I'll save you the trouble. Back in the "olden" days most cars and all trucks had manual transmissions. Trucks had a super slow and strong, 1st gear, which in most Southern rural areas was known as Bulldog. A second colloquial rendition of 1st gear was Grandma, and I assume that could have come about due to the "slow and strong" speed of trucks using that gear.

Deloris was slowly creeping between two rows of bales, J W was on the truck stacking the bales that Daryl and I were picking up and throwing on the truck from our respective sides. Lynn was five or six years old and was riding on the driver's side front fender, holding on to the turn signal fixture on his left side and the hood ornament on his right side. Once the optimum number of bales which could be loaded on the truck without having to tie down the load, we would head across the field to unload and stack them in the barn standing at the edge of the field.

We were loading the third load, probably just shy of 11 o'clock. Lynn was barely keeping awake riding out there on the fender and Deloris had been trying to get him to jump down and come sit beside her in the cab of the truck. We were working our way along, inside this light bubble, surrounded by what seemed to be total darkness. No cars had passed for a while to allow one to orient ones senses of space and time by being able to gauge one's distance and direction from either Yank's store or Mr. Coomer's house. The excitement of the nighttime hay hauling experience had waxed into the mundane of repetition. Pick up a bale, carry it to the truck, throw it up onto the truck bed, peer into the darkness while walking to the next bale, pick up bale, carry it...well you get the picture.

Then..., in a blink of the eye, it happened! Suddenly, the entire world was awash with light. It was an unnatural light, not spooky, but unnatural. It was as if one could feel the light. You could feel the light not in the sense one feels the warmth of sunlight on the south side of a house in frigid conditions but like putting your hand down into warm water.

For a few seconds, time seemed to stand still as we all stood mesmerized by the light. Then this state of suspended reality was pierced by a scream from Deloris. Lynn slid from the fender and landed on his hands and knees, quickly leaping up and climbing in the now opened door and into his Momma's arms. I could hear him sobbing as she assured him everything would be fine.

After what seemed to be forever, I began looking around for the source of this powerful and persistent light. J W was leaning with arms extended against the chest high stack of hay on the truck. I could see Daryl on the other side of the truck. He was looking around. Behind him I could see the trees in the hollow separating the hayfield from the hillside leading up to the back of Pa Harmon's store and Mr. Coomer's house and there as bright as day was Yank's store over on the other side of Highway 61.

Then I clearly remember realizing that it was pitch dark beyond Yank's store. With this realization I then did a 360 still searching for the source of this eerie light. The 360 produced no source of the light, only darkness beyond. With this realization, I then looked up. What I saw, I will never forget. I had never experienced anything like it before nor have I since. The light was pulsating, it actually seemed to be alive; not just light as I knew it but, a substance, if you will. Have you ever shinned your car headlights into a fog or mist and you could see the edge of the light because of the mist. This was similar to that however, it was more like a smoky substance; the light itself was not just light but a real, physical thing.

During this directly overhead upward stare, the light began to lift. Slowly at first and as it lifted, its lifting accelerated. As the light got higher and accelerated upward, its diameter became smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely.

I came to my senses so to speak. It was dark. The truck was not running and its lights were off. The quietness and the darkness were overpowering. I realized that I was holding my breath and began to breath. Almost in unison, we all said the same thing, "what was that!?" And then, and again almost in unison, we all answered, "I don't know!" In a moment of Fatherhood and in what I consider an adult effort to alleviate our group panic, J W said with a nervous chuckle, "Aw heck, it was a car turning in on Bird Road. We all hastily and hesitantly chimed in agreement, but we all knew it was not. We did not know what it was but we all knew what it was not!

In my some 50 years since, I've seen things I could not explain but I've never been so intimately involved in an unexplainable experience. It was like someone poured light out upon us in that field that night.... and then, vacuumed it up into a giant vacuum about a thousand feet above the ground. I didn't see the giant bucket from which it was poured nor did I see the giant "Shop vac" which sucked it back up, but I'm convinced that the giant bucket and giant Shop vac were there.


This story was posted on 2018-11-13 06:42:32
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