Statement of: Mr. Allan Hubbard
Date: 13 October, 2018
Look, I appreciate that you fellas are just doing your jobs, but I’ve already told the other guys everything.
Okay, if I must.
My name is Al, short for Allan, Hubbard. I’m 36 years old, separated and live at 2135 Lakeside. I work as a shift supervisor at the Tri-County Nuclear Power Plant. I’ve worked there since I left college, so that would make it about 14 years I guess.
I was working yesterday. My shift started at eleven. Yeah, eleven in the morning. I usually try to get to the plant half an hour before my shift starts so I can go through the handover early. It’s easier that way.
I spent most of yesterday catching up on paperwork. I worked in the office till six-thirty, went through the shift handover then stayed for maybe another hour to complete the paperwork. I left at about five before eight, drove to the Taco stand on Tamber Street, ate in the car. After that I went for a drive. Smitty, one of the guys at work, said that you can get amazing views of the city and coastline from Amberley Point, so I figured why not go there? It’s not like I got anything better to do. Leastways, not since Kate left me.
I drove out through Resland. Yeah, I know that’s the long way but the other road goes through Stamford, and I heard that Kate’s living out there now. No point in adding to the pain, y’know.
It’d be about nine or so when I cleared Resland. The roads out there are real quiet at the best of times but they were empty last night. It was just me and the game on the radio. I guess I must of drove for about ten miles before I reached the turn-off for Amberley Point. It was as dark a night as I can remember and I’d never driven the road up to the Point before, so I was taking it easy. Maybe 30 or so, but no more than that. I ain’t been happy since Kate left but I sure as heck ain’t suicidal.
I couldn’t tell you the exact time, but I remember it was the fourth quarter and the Dolphins had just scored a touchdown. That’s when I first saw it: a white light on my three o’clock, real bright and real low. I figured it was a bright star or maybe landing lights, though now I think about it there ain’t an airport over that way. The light seemed to be keeping pace with me at first, but after a couple of minutes it got larger and started to pulse red and blue, red and blue. I wasn’t too worried; I figured it was some sorta military exercise.
This went on for, I guess, maybe three minutes. The light was still pulsing, still getting bigger but now it was slowly starting to pull ahead of me. I opened the window, figuring that I’d be able to hear its engine. But it was silent. Dead silent. I couldn’t hear anything, but between pulses I could now see that there was some kinda structure to it. I couldn’t quite make out the detail, but there was something there. No question about it.
No, it wasn’t an airplane. Uh-uh. It was way too slow, for one thing. What size was it? It was kinda hard to tell at first but when it got closer I could see that it was big. Real big. Maybe the size of a football field. A blimp? Nope, it wasn’t one of those. Like I said, it was silent and, besides, no-one flies a blimp that close to the ground, especially on a dark night. So what was it? You tell me. I grew up next to an Air Force base so I’ve seen pretty much everything that flies. But I ain’t never seen anything like this before. No way.
Anyway this thing, whatever it was, was now on my 12 o’clock. It had stopped pulsing and was just a wall of white light. So bright. And the wall was growing bigger. The damn thing was coming right at me! So I figured it was time to get the hell out of there. I turned the car around and put my foot to the floor, but this thing just kept on coming. The light was reflecting in my mirrors and dazzling me. And then my motor cut. Just like that. No warning. It didn’t stutter or cough; it just stopped. I turned the key but it wouldn’t start, like the battery was dead. Then the whole car seemed to fill with light. Kinda like a mist, but pure white.
And suddenly it was gone. I was so shook up that I couldn’t move. I just sat there, shaking like a leaf. After, I guess, a couple of minutes I opened the door and got out of the car. There was no trace of the thing. No light, no sound, no heat, nothing. Just darkness. And silence.
So I got right back in the car and got the heck outta there. Just in case the thing came back, y’know. I don’t know how long I drove for. Maybe 20 minutes, and that’s when I saw the black and white. Boy, was I glad to see it. I told the guys in the cruiser everything. I guess they thought I’d been drinking or maybe I was a nut. But you fellas know I ain’t been drinking. And I ain’t a nut either; we get tested at the plant every six months – the NRC are kinda touchy when it comes to crazy people working at nuclear plants.
And that’s it. I’ve told you everything there is to tell. But here’s the thing. You fellas tell me that it’s October 13th, 2018, but when I left work last night it was October 12th, 1981. I know I ain’t a nut and you swear you ain’t pulling a prank on me. So answer me this, fellas: what happened to me and where the heck have I been for the last 37 years?