Chapter 2 · America the Beautiful

The Original Road Trip

The night I saw a UFO from the back of Grandma's truck

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The first time we made the journey to West Virginia and Ohio, I barely remember it because I was so young. What I do remember is being piled into the back of my grandma’s truck bed, covered with a camper top, with my youngest uncle, my sister, and my mom, while she and my Paw Paw took turns driving through the middle of the night to avoid traffic and get to the reunion on time the next day.

My youngest uncle is 10 years older than me. Back then, he was a kid too, hell-bent on torturing his two younger nieces…well, and his older sister, my mom. One example: he would fart loud explosions of methane from his butt for the sheer enjoyment of aggravating us. They’d leave behind lingering clouds reeking of rotten eggs, choking you and gagging you nearly to sickness, while he’d sit there laughing into hysterics, watching you suffer his latest smelly attack of poisoned gas.

He could not be trusted.

This road trip was no different. I slept with one eye open just in case he pulled a random prank. It was also hard to sleep, all piled into the bed of the truck with our luggage, blankets, pillows, and other supplies needed for our road trip, all enclosed under the camper top. Grandma had left the sliding back window open so we could talk to her and Paw Paw sitting in the cab of the truck during the long drive north. My dad had even made these wooden inserts to go over the wheel-well humps, flattening the space and making the truck bed more comfortable for us.

At some point, I fell asleep and didn’t know it. I must have watched so many lit-up billboards pass by the window while I lay there in the pile of travel gear, watching the stars through the camper window, that all the sky and lights blended into a dream. I watched the lights steadily stream by the window and other random silhouettes of undetermined trees or buildings until I saw, in the night sky, a UFO.

This was not just any UFO, but one that looked like a toy tugboat in the sky constructed of red brick. It even had a brick chimney ready to puff clouds of smoke as it floated by. It was amazing. I stared in awe as this interesting object floated in the sky before disappearing like the stream of other traffic lights and streetlights passing by my window.

The next morning, over breakfast at a diner along the side of the road, I excitedly told the whole family about my UFO sighting, describing in detail the red bricks and the chimney, how it was lit up like a spotlight was shining on it, and how it just sort of floated there for a minute before disappearing as though it had sailed away through the sky.

The adults, down to my youngest uncle, stared at me like I was nuts. Of course, they didn’t believe me. Mom even tried to gently placate me, saying I had probably dreamed it.

My sister, however, believed me.

The rebellious, I’m with you on this look in her eyes confirmed it. The magic of our childhood reality hadn’t yet been corroded and polluted by adult logic and pessimism, and if I asked her today whether she believes I saw a UFO, she’d probably still confirm it.