A first-hand account of my own Black Triangle UAP sighting

Recently, we’ve been exploring the longstanding tales of a black triangle craft the United States has allegedly been operating in secret for decades, and how these stories overlap with recent UAP discussions. But this installment will be different… This time, I’m going to tell you about my own experience as a child, seeing just such a large, black triangular craft in the skies over my childhood home, nearly 30 years ago.

If you’re not familiar with this series, here’s a rundown of our previous installments:

• In Part 1, we discussed the significant increase in Black Triangle UFO sightings in the United States starting in 1997.
• In Part 2, we explored contemporary reporting about a classified black triangular aircraft, known as the TR-3A, that allegedly even saw combat flying alongside the F-117 Nighthawk in Desert Storm.
• In Part 3, we went over the very real patents that could explain some UAP sightings, as well as what critics have to say about their otherworldly claims.
• We’ve also covered the recent claims of UAP whistleblower David Grusch.

Now, despite the depth of our exploration of these UAP-related stories, I want to be clear that I remain highly skeptical regarding the vast majority of claims surrounding the TR-3A, TR-3B, and the idea that the United States has reverse-engineered alien technology of any kind. That isn’t to say that I believe these tales to be impossible, but rather, that I ascribe to what’s commonly known as the Sagan Standard, which was outlined by renowned astronomer Carl Sagan and states that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.

But, for what it’s worth, I have personally seen something in the night sky that I can’t explain… and while I would not suggest my own account should be proof enough for anyone to change their position, I thought it worthwhile to discuss it for the sake of context, if nothing else.

Related: The narrative around UAPs may be intentionally complicated

My own personal UAP sighting

Sometime between 1994 and 1995, I was living on County Road in Torrington, Connecticut. It was a summer evening, and my older brother was having a friend sleep over that night. In an unusual bit of brotherly generosity, the older kids were letting me hang out in the family room with them as we watched TV and ate pizza my parents ordered – in a real way, it was about as good a night as 10-year-old Alex had ever had.

Sometime in the evening, my brother asked me to run out to my father’s old Lincoln Town Car to get the pack of playing cards we kept in the glove box for road trips. I was so happy to be included in the night’s fun that I didn’t think twice, and took off out the side door, down two flights of concrete steps, and into our driveway. But as I opened the passenger side door on my dad’s big green land-yacht, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, as though someone was standing right behind me.

I span around to see who was there… but found nothing but empty space between me and the neighbor’s house across the street. And then suddenly a massive and utterly silent black triangle made its way over the treeline behind the house across the street. It was dark colored – but a lighter shade of grey than the night sky it hid behind it, blocking the starlight as it passed. I couldn’t tell you what its altitude was, but I knew it was flying low – too low to be any normal aircraft. But the thing that left me most unnerved was its lack of audible engine noise.

As the triangle passed over me, I stood frozen for a second before the panic set in and sent me running (and screaming) back inside. My brother and his friend met me at the door and before long, my parents were joining them in reassuring me that all I saw was a low-flying airplane.

Related: The birth of stealth: How defeating radar became the way of war

How that sighting led me to a career in journalism

In the following months, I became obsessed with finding out what I had seen – talking my parents into taking me to the public library and eventually even buying me a wall-sized map of the United States that I started recording UFO (UAP) sightings on with different colored push pins. When I entered junior high school, my obsession remained – and when I was selected for our school’s Talented and Gifted Independent Study program (TAG), I had the perfect topic to research.

During my middle-school efforts to find the answers I sought, I came across the telephone number for a UFO researcher named Stanton Friedman. Friedman was a former nuclear physicist who took a very credible approach to investigating UAP and other unusual things in the sky, and in my 90’s naivete, I simply picked up the phone and called the number.

Mr. Friedman answered but seemed rather gruff. I explained that I was interested in researching UFOs and that I had a lot of questions… but at that moment, my mind froze and I couldn’t come up with a single one. He seemed annoyed by the whole ordeal but asked me for my address before hanging up. I put the phone back on the ringer, ashamed of my poor performance, and got back to my books.

About a week later, I received a big, brown envelope in the mail with a return address that said only, “S. Friedman.” Inside, I found dozens of copies of declassified government documents, UFO witness testimonies, and even some copies of Mr. Friedman’s own investigation notes. It was a research treasure trove and an incredible gift for an aspiring researcher. And it was at that moment that I realized my passion for research and writing.

I can draw a clear line in my mind from that one summer evening when I saw something I couldn’t explain… to the kindness of a man I never had the honor of meeting in person… to the work that I do today.

And while I may never really find the truth regarding my childhood UAP sighting… I will always be grateful for the way it changed the course of my life.

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