Airliners And F-15s Involved In Bizarre Encounter With Mystery Aircraft Over Oregon - UPDATE

The FAA, the USAF, and air traffic control recordings all confirm the bizarre event did indeed occur last October. BY TYLER ROGOWAYNOVEMBER 15, 2017

Amongst all the questions that remain, one thing is certain, an unidentified white aircraft was indeed flying over Oregon on that day in October, and the USAF and the FAA are both willing to admit that the event occurred. In the Air Force's case, the fact that they are even willing to tell us that they couldn't catch or even find the unidentified aircraft with their sensor-packed and fast F-15s is interesting to say the least. On the other hand they may not be sharing the entire story with us.

Whatever the case, we'll keep you updated on this white flying mystery machine of sorts and the circumstances surrounding its presence over Oregon when, or should I say if, new information becomes available.

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UPDATE: When I first posted the story of the “UFO” sighting last month, I got this response from a friend who used to work for Lockheed many years ago:

The Skunk Works is at it again! When the first models of what became the SR-71 started flying, there were all kinds of "UFO" sightings. It flew higher and faster than anyone could imagine. We probably will never know how fast it could go.”

I had no idea what this meant and asked him…wow, what a great, insider story of secret goings on at a major U.S. aerospace company (founded in 1912 and later merged with Martin Marietta in 1995 to become Lockheed Martin)!! So here’s the rest of the story:

The Skunk Works is a super secret design and manufacturing part of Lockheed. When I worked for Lockheed, Kelly Johnson ran the organization and they produced many surprises, the SR-71 being the biggest. Just imagine you are in charge of building a secret airplane out of titanium and there are few suppliers and limited supply. If Lockheed bought enough material to build one, everybody would know they were building a titanium airplane. So how did they do it? They set up phony businesses all over the country which each bought a reasonable amount of titanium. He was very clever. They also produced the U-2 and a small corporate jet (Jet Star I think). They did that in secret in order to be the first to produce it.

I was cleared to work on his stuff but I never had a "need-to-know" about any details. When I was told I was cleared, I was told not to tell another company that I had such a clearance, because when that company called to verify, Lockheed would deny the existence of that clearance.

It is entirely possible that they are now producing aircraft that no one knows about and do amazing things.

Also, the origin of the name "Skunk Works" may be interesting. It comes from the comic strip Li'l Abner. There was a plant nearby that spewed all kinds of odors and smoke and no one knew what it produced. It was called the Skunk Works. Search for "Skunk Works" for a lot of interesting information about Lockheed's Skunk Works.

A 12-year-old boy, a pilot, and a P-51

Old Aviators and Old Airplanes

This is a good little story about a vivid memory of a P-51 and its pilot, by a fellow who was 12 years old in Canada in 1967. It was to take to the air. They said it had flown in during the night from some U.S. Airport, the pilot had been tired.

I marveled at the size of the plane dwarfing the Pipers and Canucks tied down by her. It was much larger than in the movies. She glistened in the sun like a bulwark of security from days gone by.

The pilot arrived by cab, paid the driver, and then stepped into the pilot's lounge. He was an older man; his wavy hair was gray and tossed. It looked like it might have been combed, say, around the turn of the century. His flight jacket was checked, creased and worn - it smelled old and genuine. Old Glory was prominently sewn to its shoulders. He projected a quiet air of proficiency and pride devoid of arrogance. He filed a quick flight plan to Montreal (Expo-67, Air Show) then walked across the tarmac.

After taking several minutes to perform his walk-around check the pilot returned to the flight lounge to ask if anyone would be available to stand by with fire extinguishers while he "flashed the old bird up, just to be safe."


Though only 12 at the time I was allowed to stand by with an extinguisher after brief instruction on its use -- "If you see a fire, point, then pull this lever!" I later became a firefighter, but that's another story. The air around the exhaust manifolds shimmered like a mirror from fuel fumes as the huge prop started to rotate. One manifold, then another, and yet another barked -- I stepped back with the others. In moments the Packard-built Merlin engine came to life with a thunderous roar, blue flames knifed from her manifolds. I looked at the others' faces, there was no concern. I lowered the bell of my extinguisher. One of the guys signaled to walk back to the lounge. We did.

Several minutes later we could hear the pilot doing his pre-flight run-up. He'd taxied to the end of runway 19, out of sight. All went quiet for several seconds; we raced from the lounge to the second story deck to see if we could catch a glimpse of the P-51 as she started down the runway. We could not. There we stood, eyes fixed to a spot half way down 19. Then a roar ripped across the field, much louder than before, like a furious hell spawn set loose---something mighty this way was coming. "Listen to that thing!" said the controller.

In seconds the Mustang burst into our line of sight. Its tail was already off and it was moving faster than anything I'd ever seen by that point on 19. Two-thirds the way down 19 the Mustang was airborne with her gear going up. The prop tips were supersonic; we clasped our ears as the Mustang climbed hellish fast into the circuit to be eaten up by the dog-day haze.

We stood for a few moments in stunned silence trying to digest what we'd just seen. The radio controller rushed by me to the radio. Kingston tower calling Mustang?" He looked back to us as he waited for an acknowledgment. The radio crackled, "Go ahead Kingston."

"Roger Mustang. Kingston tower would like to advise the circuit is clear for a low level pass." I stood in shock because the controller had, more or less, just asked the pilot to return for an impromptu air show! The controller looked at us. "What?" He asked. "I can't let that guy go without asking. I couldn't forgive myself!"


The radio crackled once again, Kingston, do I have permission for a low level pass, east to west, across the field?" "Roger Mustang, the circuit is clear for an east to west pass."

"Roger, Kingston, I'm coming out of 3000 feet, stand by." We rushed back onto the second-story deck, eyes fixed toward the eastern haze. The sound was subtle at first, a high-pitched whine, a muffled screech, a distant scream.

Moments later the P-51 burst through the haze. Her air frame straining against positive Gs and gravity, wing tips spilling contrails of condensed air, prop-tips again supersonic as the burnished bird blasted across the eastern margin of the field shredding and tearing the air.

At about 500 mph and 150 yards from where we stood she passed with the old American pilot saluting. Imagine. A salute! I felt like laughing, I felt like crying, she glistened, she screamed, the building shook, my heart pounded.

Then the old pilot pulled her up and rolled, and rolled, and rolled out of sight into the broken clouds and indelibly into my memory.

I've never wanted to be an American more than on that day. It was a time when many nations in the world looked to America as their big brother, a steady and even-handed beacon of security who navigated difficult political water with grace and style; not unlike the pilot who'd just flown into my memory. He was proud, not arrogant, humble, not a braggart, old and honest, projecting an aura of America at its best. That America will return one day, I know it will. Until that time, I'll just send off this story; call it a reciprocal salute, to the old American pilot who wove a memory for a young Canadian that's lasted a lifetime.

[Forward to your Aviator Friends, and anyone who would enjoy a patriotic story. WE ARE: "Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Anyone Who Threatens It"]

Why a former airline pilot and instructor believes there will be many more accidents in the future

Doug Ross @ Journal:

This Asiana SFO accident makes me sick and while I am surprised there are not more, I expect that there will be many more of the same type accidents in the future unless some drastic steps are taken...Actually, this is a worldwide problem involving automation and the auto-flight concept.

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A vet explains the practical side of "faith"

The link below takes you to a great illustration of what we were taught about scanning outside the cockpit when I went through training  back in the '50s.  We were told to scan the horizon for a short distance, stop momentarily, and repeat the process. I can remember being told why this was the most effective technique to locate other aircraft. It was emphasized repeatedly to not fix your gaze for more than a couple of seconds on any single object. The instructors, some of whom were WWII veterans with years of experience, instructed us to continually "keep our eyes moving and our head on a swivel" because this was the best way to survive, not only in combat, but from peacetime hazards (like a midair collision) as well.

We basically had to take the advice on faith (until we could experience for ourselves) because the technology to demonstrate it didn't exist at that time...but it does now!

http://www.msf-usa.org/motion.html

Another fine mess from this administration!

...the Air Force estimates it could be short 800 fighter-bombers by 2024

...and a heartbreaking story from WSJ: Cancelling the F-22 Raptor, the most capable fighter plane ever produced, is yet another act in the tragedy of a nation that, bankrupting itself, embracing moral decline, and apologizing to its enemies, is losing the will to prevail...