The Story I’ve Never Told

By Gary Stearman on August 11, 2011

The following is a story that I’ve never publicly related. Except for a handful of people I’ve told over the last four decades, it has been my secret. Nevertheless, it is a true story that played a large role in the development of my thinking. Ultimately, it caused me to come to a deep belief in the absolute veracity of Scripture. As I relate the experience, I’m delivering a personal testimony, accompanied by a deep desire to sound a warning and to issue a challenge to Christians everywhere.

As a Bible-believing Christian, I hold to the conviction that the Tribulation period lies in our near future. According to prophecy, this time will be heralded by the release of dark spiritual forces, posing as saviors of planet Earth. Soon, the restraining effect of God’s Spirit will be lifted from this planet and hell, itself, will be released to torment mankind.

When the Age of the Church comes to an end, these forces will convince many that they are presenting the super-scientific solution to man’s problems. Instead, they will enthrall a gullible mankind into bondage and spiritual deceit. “Aliens from outer space,” is their camouflage in our present age.

Their current message to mankind is, “Let us help you overcome your warlike, polluting ways, and build a bridge to future peace.” That message is the oldest lie on earth, spawned by their chief scientist/sociologist, Satan. As long as we remain here, Christians must endeavor to expose these dark spirits for what they really are.

Now to the Story

As part of an aviation-oriented family, I was literally raised around airplanes from my earliest childhood. I was an airport brat when my father managed an airport. I determined to get my pilot’s license at the earliest possible date … which I did as a teenager. I’m telling you this just to illustrate that flying has always been a big part of my life.

Stearman Aviation was known for having produced aircraft from the late 1920s through the 1940s, ending with the famous Model 75 Kaydet, which was the basic trainer for most of the pilots in World War Two. Over 8,500 of them were built, of which about 3,500 remain to this day. My father, uncles and cousins all felt the push toward flying and aeronautical engineering. So did I, until in the midst of my college years, I discovered that I was more interested in writing than engineering.

After graduation, with degrees in English and Psychology, as well as minors in descriptive linguistics, radio and television writing and literary analysis, I went to work, first for Beech Aircraft Corporation in commercial publications, then for Cessna Aircraft Corporation in the Merchandising and Marketing division. At both enterprises, my job was to write corporate publications and sales materials.

One of my tasks was to supply Cessna dealers across the United States with point-of-sale materials, such as brochures, product information, banners, posters, and films. This would include everything the local aircraft dealer would need to make a sale. After producing these products, we would personally deliver them by air in time for company representatives to put on sales meetings that introduced the new models.

It was midsummer in the late 1960s in Wichita, Kansas, and I prepared to take off from the delivery center airfield at Cessna Aircraft to make such a routine trip. On a Saturday afternoon, several of us in the Merchandising Division had spent time loading about a thousand pounds of displays into a brand-new Cessna 207 (rigged for cargo) preparatory to delivering it to a Texas dealer.

The next day – Sunday morning – I departed for my first stop, Love Field in Dallas, Texas, about 330 miles south. The trip took a normal and uneventful two hours. I arrived at the Cessna dealership late in the morning, where the dealer and I unloaded about half the materials I had brought for the meetings. We discussed his upcoming meeting over lunch. Then, a little after noon, I departed Love Field and headed west toward Lubbock, Texas, where I was to meet another Cessna dealer and unload the other half of the supplies for him. This leg of my flight, I thought, would be as ordinary as the first.

Climbing to a cruise altitude of 6,500 feet, and leveling off, I relaxed, expecting a 300-mile trip of about an hour and forty-five minutes. Routinely monitoring my nav-com and right on schedule, I was (as always) enjoying my flight. The air was smooth and cool. Then, without warning, a low-voltage warning flashed on my instrument panel!

My first reaction was simple annoyance: This had started as a perfect flight, but now I had to manage a failure. I was somewhat disgusted; this was after all, a brand-new airplane. I noted that the electrical system voltage was steadily dropping and after trying every alternative and discovering that there was no cure, I took one last reading on my heading and position, then shut down the entire electrical system. On an airplane, you can do that, because the engine has its own separate ignition system.

I believed that by doing this, I could save battery power till I got to Lubbock, then turn it back on in time to call the tower and make my landing. Again, I settled down, expecting the remaining hour to be uneventful. How wrong I was!

At this point, I would remind you that all electrical power was shut down, including of course, the radios. Yet, at that moment, I heard a crisp, clear voice that sounded just like a tour guide. It said, “If you look to your left, you’ll see a UFO.” My instant reaction was: “Now, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m not gonna look to my left!”

And I didn’t. Facing forward, I set my jaw and determined to continue as before.

But then it hit me: Although the radios were off, I had heard a clear voice. It was then that I decided for sure I was not going to look to my left!

Then, for the second time, loudly and clearly, the voice said (and I really couldn’t tell where it was coming from ), “If you look to your left, you’ll see a UFO.” Its intonation sounded just like a tour guide, and I laughed out loud. Then, curiosity finally got the best of me and I couldn’t stop myself from looking to my left.

And there, slightly below my altitude, and a mile or two away, was a bright light. I watched it for a good while. It was matching my speed and direction. As we continued for a few minutes, it appeared to be slowly drawing closer to me. It occurred to me that if we were both homing in on Lubbock radio, we would be on converging courses. I then decided that this thing that I thought was a “UFO” was really an Air Force airplane (a Cessna T-41), which I knew they were using for basic training at Lubbock. This was no UFO after all … it was a silver-winged T-41, gleaming in the sunlight. Mystery solved!

We flew on together for a few minutes more, still on merging courses, drawing ever closer to each other. It looked like we’d get to Lubbock at about the same time. Then, something startling happened. We both flew under a high, solid cloud deck that was a few thousand feet above us. Now, at virtually the same moment, we had both flown into shadow. But amazingly, the light that came from this mystery aircraft was as bright as it had been in the sun. It was generating its own light! It was brilliant! Suddenly, I believed the voice I’d heard fifteen minutes ago. It was a UFO!

Now, the moment I had this thought, the bright ship reacted by flying quickly sideways toward me, covering about a mile in less than two seconds! What had earlier registered in my mind as a T-41 was now a circular aluminum craft … at least it looked like polished aluminum! It was about a hundred feet in diameter and maybe fifteen feet thick. It was shaped like an upside-down Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup … even to the detail of being corrugated around the outside, though its corrugations weren’t as deep as those on the traditional peanut butter cup. As it approached, I had seen its top because it was a little below me. It had a gleaming center spot and bright radial lines that went like pie slices to its edge.

Its corrugations were spaced about three feet apart. And here it was, flying with me in close formation about seventy-five feet off my left wing. Then, as unbelievable as it may sound, I felt something like waves of energy coming off this thing. I felt like I was being “probed” or “scanned” … that it literally knew what I was thinking! And I wasn’t at all bothered by this. Quite the opposite, I felt an elation I’ve never experienced, either before or since.

I felt as though something terrifically good and beneficial was happening to me, something on the order of a rescue. Remember, I had entered into this situation with an electrical emergency.

I was magnetically drawn to this beautiful machine … if one can call it a machine. For several minutes, we flew along together. But as I looked, I wanted to get closer to it, to see how it was built. So I nudged the controls, causing my plane to slip stealthily closer to this thing … seventy feet … sixty-five feet … sixty feet … and I felt a magnificent connection with the giant ship … as though it was concerned about my condition. I perceived it as a gracious benefactor, though at the moment, I didn’t connect its actions with my electrical failure.

Fifty-five feet … fifty feet … As I slowly drew closer and closer, I was looking for clues as to how it was built. Did it have rivets or seams? I could see none. It looked like one solid piece of material. Forty-five feet … and then I felt this thing alarmed by my intentions. It didn’t want me to get too close.

In an instant, and with blinding speed, it zoomed back to its original position, about a mile off my left wingtip. It astonished me by banking to the right in order to turn left … exactly the opposite of the way an airplane flies. Now, in the distance, it still gleamed with a luminous silver light, and once again, flew along with me as we both headed for Lubbock, which was now less than twenty miles away! It seemed that we had covered what should have been an hour’s flight in about ten minutes!

And here, the time had arrived to see whether my earlier strategy had worked. I reactivated the electrical system, and yes, there was enough battery power left to call Lubbock tower, and to deploy the flaps for a landing, all of which turned out to be routine. Rolling southward, I slowed and departed the runway in a left turn and taxied up to the Cessna dealership.

And through my windshield, looking back toward the east, about ten miles away, was the ship, still hovering in the distance, absolutely still. After shutdown, I walked into the dealership in something of a daze, where I met the dealer and mumbled something about having seen a UFO on my way.

There was nothing subtle about his reply: “I don’t believe in those things!” I quietly resolved that I would never mention this to anyone else. Furthermore, he was angry: “You were supposed to be here earlier! What happened?” I told him about the electrical failure and it somewhat calmed him down. It didn’t occur to me until years later that I had left Dallas just after noon on a trip that should have taken less than two hours. Now, it was after six o’clock … perhaps closer to seven. This man had waited on me all afternoon … on a Sunday! But he was sympathetic after he heard about my emergency.

Another thing didn’t register with me until years later: I had refueled in Dallas, giving me enough fuel for four or five hours of flying time at the very most. I had landed over six hours later, and still had half my fuel left! But I just didn’t think about it; it didn’t cross my mind that there was anything strange about this.

I had intended to fly back to Wichita that evening after dropping off the rest of the load. But now, the airplane was in the shop with electrical problems, and I was forced to stay overnight.

The next morning … bright and early … the dealer picked me up and we headed for the airport to see what they had found wrong with my aircraft. Needless to say, I was quite anxious to fix the problem and head back home to Wichita and the factory. The shop foreman approached us as we entered. He was in an excited state as he almost shouted, “You ain’t gonna believe what we found!”

And he proceeded to show us the brand new V-belt that had fallen off the alternator drive and ended up in the bottom of the cowling. There was not a mark on it. It was factory new. And the pulleys from which it had escaped were still tensioned and safety wired. It was impossible for the belt to have fallen off in this way. Five men, including an FAA inspector, stood around marveling at the sight. At the very least, the belt should have been scarred. Most likely it would have broken. But it was pristine, and what’s more, they had to loosen the fittings to replace it. It couldn’t have fallen off the engine.

Of course, my mind was racing in a different direction: What had really happened? Why had the flying disc come alongside me at a critical moment? Had “they” actually caused that critical moment? Of course, I didn’t utter a word about a UFO to any of those present on that Monday morning. I would have been laughed out of the hangar!

And so, after re-installing the drive belt, test-running the engine and discovering a healthy system voltage, it was pronounced airworthy. I took off and headed for Wichita.

A little over two hours later, I landed, went back to the office and essentially kept my mouth closed … to this day. Over the last 42 years, I’ve told maybe four or five people about the incident … more or less swearing them to secrecy in the process.

I have many questions. Was the UFO good or evil? Was it from outer space or inner space; perhaps another dimension? Was it angelic or demonic? Did it cause the failure of my electrical system, or did something else cause the calamity, and the UFO came to my aid? One thing is certain: I felt that the UFO had good intentions; contact with it had been both exhilarating and positive. I was disappointed when it stayed behind as I went on to land.

I must tell you that at that time, I had not yet given my life to Christ. And I was more aware than most people of the entire UFO phenomenon. This encounter, of course, had brought me to an entirely new level of perception. It opened my mind to the absolute reality of beings who have what appears to be a technology that’s eons ahead of ours.

Here, it is important to mention that from my early childhood years, I had heard adults – family and close relatives – discuss the reality of UFOs. They were all totally convinced of their reality. In fact, two of my closest relatives were affiliated with the development of military aircraft, and later, with the establishment of our Intercontinental Ballistic Missile system. One of them, charged with developing protective systems that prevented false alarms, once casually mentioned that his major problem had been alarms tripped by passing UFOs. Another had seen a government-issued 16-millimeter film of a crashed UFO, which had been presented to them as a craft from outer space.

I, myself, had been employed in the building of test equipment for a wind tunnel, where I worked with two military officers who both had close encounters with UFOs.

From many sources, I had learned of the military’s intense preoccupation with what they termed “exterrestrial technology.” It was rumored that from the 1948 Roswell crash and the years immediately following it, much technical knowledge was obtained by “trade agreements” with the little aliens and their overlords. Since that time, a veritable flood of books and articles have documented exactly that.

As the narrative goes, government leaders agreed to let these “spacemen” operate within our atmosphere, in return for scientific and industrial advances. Many researchers have related that the transistor, developed by Bell Labs in the 1950s, was said to have come from such a deal, that it began as “UFO technology.” I hardly need remind you how radically our society has been changed by the introduction of solid-state electronics.

Not long after the personal encounter described above, I married the woman to whom I remain married to this day. She had been raised a Christian; I was not to become one until about a couple of years later. I began to read the Bible voraciously. It was the first book I’d ever found that explained the mysterious things that happen on this planet, as having to do with God, Creation and Redemption.

Because of my own encounter, I sought biblical answers that could explain what I had seen. I learned of God’s angels in their chariots of fire that flew in the realms just beyond the reach of man’s vision.

And I learned of the, “… principalities and powers in heavenly places …” mentioned by Paul in Ephesians 3:10. They are good as well as evil: The dark forces answer to their master, Satan, called in Ephesians 2:2, “… the prince of the power of the air.”

Like Job, I can say, “For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth” (Job 19:25). Without a shadow of a doubt, Jesus is my Lord and Savior.

In my own personal case, however, many questions remain. I continue to believe that I was rescued; I would like to believe that the beautiful ship that came alongside me was on a mission to save me from a possible crash.

But I don’t exclude the possibility that the ship was demonic, representing a mission far beyond my ability to understand. I just can’t say. I do know, however, that the Spirit of the Lord spoke clearly to me in the period that followed.

Afterward, I came, not only to saving faith in Christ, but to a consciousness that we are living in the last days, said by our Lord to resemble the days when fallen angels began to traffic among men. For eons, there has been a heavenly battle raging. Good and evil angels defend territories and causes that are far beyond our perception. Occasionally, they penetrate the dimensional barriers and for a moment, we see them.

The reality of these beings is beyond question to me. And since I am safe in Christ, I never worry that they might harm me. In the Spirit of the Lord, we are on the winning side of the battle:

“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

“Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38, 39).