Naturalist and writer turned Fortean researcher Ivan T. Sanderson has found a home on this blog before, thanks to his personal brushes with The Weird. One such occasion, which was also witnessed by two of his friends, took place at his home in New Jersey. On April 13, 1968, a local newspaper, the “Blairstown Press,” published a letter from Sanderson giving details about the incident. The letter begins with Sanderson describing his interest in local history and the stranger side of life, then segued into his desire “to speak of even more out-of-this-world things”:
There is one that has sort of popped back again recently through a chance remark that one of us happened to make when Raldo Mattioli, a most progressive staff writer for your opposite number over the river--the “Easton Express”--was visiting us. Being a good reporter in the proper sense, he picked on this and made it his lead to a story he wrote on us. This gave us rather a shock, but simply because we handle so many curiosa that any personally experienced one of this nature tends to get lost in the shuffle. The “story” is as follows; and this is where we would like to ask your readers’ help.
In mid-June of 1965, three of us rolled into my place in Polkville at dawn. We had driven all night from Washington, D.C., where we had been for several days on business. This business was the news business. Both my friends were longtime, professional newsmen. Tom Allen, Senior Feature writer for the Sunday “New York News” for ten years, and Walter McGraw, audio (meaning using tape for interviewing) reporter for Westinghouse Radio and TV, the AMA (American Medical Association), and the Dept. of Health, Education, and Welfare, and the Federal Government, among other things. Such boys are really hardboiled cookies and not to be fooled by any kind of “kookery.”
It was one of those almost mystically beautiful mornings, with the birds singing, the frogs froggin, and insects “insecting”--I suppose you would call it. As we had an enormous load of equipment--tape recorders, film cameras, cases filled with office equipment, typewriters, and all the other assorted junk that working newsmen have to lug around--I drove up around the house to the back lawn. Backing into the back door makes life so much easier when unloading such a load. Also, it just so happened that all three of us have what I can only describe as “sensitive backs” due to “incidents” in what is now called WWII. We put down the back flap of the station wagon and started to unload. But the morning was so absolutely glorious, with its clean fresh Warren County air, and the rising sun, and the boids and the bees and the frogs and so on, that we just sat on the flap and breathed. Tom Allen had just remarked upon this glory compared to the rat-race in the capital when….
Absolutely without warning of any kind that we could detect, every bird, frog, insect, and all else alive just simply, absolutely, and completely “dropped dead” as it seemed. The resulting silence was so absolute it would have scared even an Eskimo on a still night on an arctic icecap, where the absence of sound is so profound that it almost hurts.
We all looked at each other for a few seconds.
Then it came.......WOOOOoooooo-WOOOoooo-WOOOooo…..three times in quick succession. Then a pause; then again three; and so on for about seven minutes.
I've searched for and collected animals all my life all over the world, and I'm not given to panic; nor am I either impressionable or much impressed by any "unexplained", but I can tell you that that vast, enormous, terrific noise which welled up from the Walnut Valley sent the proverbial cold shivers through my spine and, as we used to say in the old country, "with bloody knobs on". But the thing that impressed me most was that it apparently had the same effect on my two colleagues--hard boileder, hardnoseder, and more sceptical than whom I have never met. Besides, both are Vets and both happen to have quite some experience with wildlife as well.
This event had several aspects that I will elaborate upon, in a minute, but I must tell you what happened with us. Here we had probably the best and most elaborate recording equipment then available and two real experts in its employment whose whole life depended upon “grabbing the mike” as they say when an unexpected event took place. Yet the three of us just stood with our mouths open, gaping and turning our heads from side to side. None of us so much as thought of flipping open the battery-recorder and throwing just one switch. But how often does one fail to do the right thing in an emergency? How many times have you kicked yourself, saying: Why the heck didn’t I take a photo of that? This seems to be a universal trait; but professional reporters have trained themselves to try and overcome this reaction--or lack of it. Yet, here we were, three very longtime pros, just standing there with our mouths open!
This was a purely psychological reaction. What might be called the intellectual one came later, but too late. It probably hit me first because of my lifetime in the field studying animals. In fact, so extraordinary were some aspects of this sound and its “behavior” that I completely forgot the tape recorders and just about everything else. The reasons were as follows.
First, I had never heard any noise or sound like this before in my life. Second, the only times when I have heard ALL noises made by all types of animals stop suddenly and at the same instant like that, has been before major earthquakes--and I have witnessed half a dozen of these all over the world. Third, the sheer volume of sound was absolutely unbelievable; in decibels I would say that it equaled a four-jet plane taking off, as registered from about a quarter of a mile. Fourth, it seemed to start somewhere up about the region of the Blairstown-Millbrook Rd., but in a couple of minutes if not less it was manifestly west of us, which put it over (or beyond) Hainesburg; and in another couple of minutes the calls were definitely coming from the direction of Columbia and the Gap. This is about 12 miles in a maximum of four minutes--probably less, because even an experienced radio man’s timing goes all off in an emergency. But most of all there was both an echo AND an answering call of exactly similar nature from, apparently about west of Bangor, across the river!
Our timing may, as I say, have been way off, because the whole thing was so shocking that none of us even pulled out our stop-watches, though all of us had one in our pocket on a chain. (This is standard equipment for radio persons.) It could have been of much shorter duration, but it certainly could not have been any longer. The point I am trying to make is that 12 miles in even four minutes is 180 m.p.h. What animal, I ask, can travel at that speed?....
I should point out that we don’t know, of course, if this “Thing” did travel that far in that time. Nevertheless, it could not have been a land animal, and especially a Gray Fox which, as several experienced local hunters and woodsmen have pointed out, does make a “who whhooing” noise sometimes--at least so it is believed. Of the angle of travel we are quite sure as all three of us cupped our hands behind our ears which is standard practice for pinning down direction. This angle, from where we stood, was no less than, believe it or not, 180 degrees!
Then again, the echoes absolutely confirmed that the darned thing--the first and loudest one--was over our ridge and in, or beyond, Walnut Valley. There would have been no ring-back if it had been close enough to be in our little valley; and you can get a pretty close estimate of distance by the time of an echo, as in thunder. This time lag decreased until the thing was due west (i.e., the closest) to us and then increased again as it went south. In other words, it was a noise so enormous that, at a minimum of five miles, it made our eardrums ring!
However, the most incredible aspect of this whole incident was that the birds, frogs, and insects stopped all their noise, and suddenly, all together, BEFORE the first call, or whatever it was. What is more, they remained absolutely silent until at least five minutes after the two callers appear to have met and gone on south together, their calls blending and then getting fainter and fainter! Thousands of animals don’t behave like this except in some very exceptional circumstances. And, what circumstances in this case but the forthcoming WOOOoooo-WOOOoooo?
So out-of-this-world was this experience that the three of us talked about it all day and finally decided that it was just too way-out even for me to mention. However, I did make a lot of somewhat discreet inquiries of every and all the experienced naturalists that I knew, from Game Wardens to scientific collectors; but, apart from the Gray Fox belief, none had anything even near a suggestion after he had heard a playback of a recording we made immediately after the incident on which we gave an imitation of the sound.
Then came Raldo Mattioli with his story and, no sooner does it hit the stands, than the phone calls start coming in. As it happened, I was talking to the combined Warren County PTAs (Parent-Teacher Associations) in Belvidere that evening and the matter came up there as a result. About five minutes after I got home that evening the phone rang and a citizen of Belvidere was on the line. (I’ll give you his name next week, if you want it, and if he gives me his permission.) And this is what he had to tell us.
He pinned down the date pretty well because he was married seven years ago and was then still a-courting. One fine summer night he was so courting on a lovers’ lane up the mountains west of Bangor. The lane was in the woods and there was only star-shine, there being no moon that night. Suddenly, as he tells it, just this same enormous, ghastly, hair-raising sound rang out right ahead of the car. The gentleman tells me that, although an ex-Navy man and having seen much war-time action, he had never been so scared in his life, and he said that he still does not like to talk about it. So scared was he at the time, he said, that he was sort of paralyzed and to the extent of simply being unable to switch on the car lights. He estimated that whatever made the noise could not have been more than twenty paces ahead up the road. It continued to “WOOOoooo-WOOOoooo” just as ours did at regular intervals and then took off and faded away.
But more followed. This gentleman told me that a couple of years later he was helping as a volunteer to do some digging for a school project in his township and at a lunch-break got to talking of funny things hereabouts, and no less than three others finally admitted that they had heard, and even “encountered” at close range, the same thing. One, whose name I have, and whom I happen also to have met personally, has been a very keen sportsman-hunter all his life in the area and is definitely not given either to tall tales or, more so, the jitters; but he also just does not like to talk about it.
So what do we make of all this? I have my ideas, but then, my ideas tend to be taken with more than just one grain of salt, so I shall continue to keep my mouth shut for now! What I want is your ideas; and, more so, any similar accounts that any of you might be prepared to give me. Your names will not be published unless you give express written permission. However, your names I would like, in confidence as I would be most grateful if I could meet you--also in confidence and ask some questions that you may not have thought of. I am very sincere in this request as this is a purely scientific enquiry.
And I am not suggesting GHOSTS. I will have no part of such.
It is still a mystery what created the noises that Sanderson and the others heard, but whatever it was, I for one hope that I never encounter it.
