Nancy Bradley

Lake Owassa UFO adventure

June 21, 2009 |  1 comment
Image Credit: Nancy Bradley My childhood at Lake Owassa was rather eventful in a strange and uneventful way. Living in the woods can be boring or fun, depending on if you had friends around, and if there was something to do. Owassa means “Lake Beyond the Hill.” It could not be more amply named, because Lake Beyond the Hill insinuates not much to do, quiet and slow paced, like it or not. At that time as a child my life consisted of exploration. There was swimming, playing cards under a ‘mosquito net’ in the yard late in the afternoon, or hiking around looking for arrowheads. Originally I told this strange UFO story in “Fate Magazine” way back in November of 1976 when I was a kid writer. It is still a strange and unknown tale of something that happened, without question, and a story that was equally covered up as quickly as the event unfolded. Spooky and strange, courage under bizarre conditions, and a wonderful man who went to his grave telling the story so others would know about it, hoping for answers, and yet the general population of the world would not ever find out about it or question. And this is called a cover-up by the U.S. government. Secret stuff. Stuff that is denied, buried deep in some old vault undoubtedly, not for prying eyes.

I was not there for this event, but I have no reason to question this story because the story involved my own uncle Arnold, my friend John Lonewolf, Aunt Lorraine, and cousins, Lori Yesthal who was 9 at the time, and her brother George, age 13. Honest people without an ax to grind or anything to gain by making it up. And there were other witnesses as well.

On a balmy summer late afternoon in late July of 1963 a strange aircraft fell from the sky above the beautiful water into a swampy area at the far end of Lake Owassa in western Sussex County, N.J. This is dense forest area, anything out of the ordinary is going to be noticed if the few residents are around to see it, and many of them were. On this particular day my two young cousins and their neighboring friend were playing along the dirt road that is above the cabins which are lower at lake elevation. The small winding one lane road where they were is the only access road to get to the lake, and it abruptly ends right above their home, making it a safe place for kids to play. If you looked out beyond the ending of the road, there is forest for as far as the eye can see. Desolate, few people (if not visitors to their home) would bother to come up this far on the road, there would be no need to. And so they were at the end of this dirt path of a road playing ball, when suddenly something strange in the sky changing this otherwise boring day into excitement, confusion, and something never to be forgotten. Reflecting today about those many years ago, they told me the air changed in that one moment, giving them the chills, the ever present breeze they were enjoying stopped, and all sounds of birds and crickets disappeared. For a while their world went into total silence. It was certainly enough to rattle two impish kids.

That fateful day as they passed the ball around, they saw something moving across the sky hurling red and yellow sparks in all directions about it. The aircraft, whatever it was, seemed clearly in distress, losing altitude. They watched as the craft sputtered, stopped, and then started up again, turning direction and heading upward again for the sky. This continued effort, gaining and loosing altitude over and over, seemed to stabilize the aircraft for short periods of time, as it circled and sputtered. But it could not go on that way for long. Soon all went silent, this time the engines stopped for good, and the aircraft made it’s decent to earth, heading face down and falling fast at a 75 degree angle. They watched as it went beyond the trees and past their home and deep into the inlet at the corner of the lake. Silence. No crash sounds. Just silence. And then, just a few minutes later as quickly as it had stopped, the birds and crickets and forest sounds started up again, slowly, until everything seemed back to normal.

Shortly after what the children had experienced the phone rang at the home closest to the inlet. The mother answered. ‘Yes sir, my kids came in with some crazy story. Okay” she said, and she handed the phone to her son. “He says he is with the Civil Defense” she told him, shrugging her shoulders not certain to believe the caller or her kids story. What kind of crazy joke was this?

All of a sudden 13 year old George rose to adulthood. He stood up tall and took the phone. “Hello? Yes sir, okay. Well it looked like it had four engines but only two propellers. There was a wheel on the back. Sparks were flying, it happened so fast…” Obviously the man on the other end had little patience for this babble and was pushing him for answers. “He said it could have been a small cabin plane, but I don’t think so, it looked strange…” the boy whispered to his mother, still holding the phone. Back to the conversation with the man on the other end of the conversation “Okay. I will” he said into the receiver. He handed the phone back to his mother. She listened to the caller and agreed, “Yes, of course you can come to search” she told them, “Maybe someone is in trouble.” And then, heeding a warning, “Yes, I understand the importance of keeping quiet about this…Good-bye.” The kids were looking for an explanation and she told them what had been told to her. “The man at the other end said what they had possibly seen was a plane the authorities were looking for, one they had lost contact with.”

“Well, it didn’t look like any plane I had ever seen before” George told her.

The mother went on alert, calling her husband at work, he a mechanic at the nearest town, and told him to come home right away. This was important stuff. And it would become the adventure of a lifetime for the Yesthal family of Lake Owassa.

It did not take the Civil Defense team long to get there, which in hindsight left the residents of the lake to wonder where they were stationed, or if they were already enroute knowing something strange happened, or was going to. After all Lake Owassa is not in the middle of some large metropolis. Forty-five minutes max, and like an army readying for any emergency, they arrived one vehicle after another, parking at the end of the hillside road. They parked single file, turning each vehicle around so it was facing outward. They were taking up road space on the cliff-side dirt road above the Yesthal home, placing the last vehicle sideways so that it would be hard for anyone walking or driving to enter the area. A military looking soldier stood guard at the top of the wooden stairs that led down to the house. On the road they left behind a black Cadillac, a 40-foot van carrying two military amphibious ducks, three fire engines, two trucks, a flat bed, and three police cars. More than 30 men scurried about knowing full well what to do they must have rehearsed this many times or done it before. Equipment in hands, they filed down the hill steps to the house. With great precision they climbed the Yesthal’s porch steps and went single file into the house. Within minutes they had set up field headquarters in the kitchen, shoved furniture around, brought in folding table and chairs, and commenced to work on the mission at hand.

The largest group of men were commissioned to walk around outside, examine the scene from the road where young kids had originally seen the aircraft, others walking to the inlet and measuring distance. Binoculars were their best friends, as they shouted orders at each other. Civilian boats in the lake were turned back, there were to be no looky-loos around, they were to be kept away. There was quiet talk going on as they measured the inlet to determine the type of vehicle could be used in the search. Other than making plans with their own group, the men were silent to the questions that were asked of them. Not rude mind you, but busy, dismissive. The kitchen crackled with business as officials in military attire and three-piece suits checked maps, marking circles in red pen and pointed out possible routes to get to the proposed crash location. Getting to the downed craft was a at this point a puzzlement to them as well.

Knowing the area well, and because there were no other options I am certain, my uncle Arnold Yesthal, and (uncle) big John Lonewolf a strong Ute Indian and year round resident of the lake known for his tracking skills, agreed to guide the searchers into the inlet. Both men were the only ones around familiar with the ins and outs of the ‘Bear Swamp”. Both were given gray insulated vinyl suits to put on with full helmet and waterproof buckled boots. “I remember telling them they looked like astronauts” Lori told us. They made a few childhood jokes the captain did not find funny at all. “This is serious business here” he told them.

The family was allowed to walk down to the lake with their father, husband, Lonewolf and the authorities when they boarded the amphibious vehicles. The land/water machines headed for the inlet, and then turned the first bend and disappeared from view. There was a crowd gathering at the road, but they were kept from coming down to the Yesthal home. No cameras were allowed, if seen they were confiscated. It was getting dark now so the threat of photos was becoming nil anyway. A remaining authority insisted the family walk back to the house and wait there, inside. “It’s going to be a long night” was all he would say, and added “There is nothing to do but wait.”

About 10:30 pm Lori and George were getting anxious and obnoxious as kids can be, and so they were sent to bed. Lori, the youngest, went right to sleep. She slept unaware of what was going on. George, older, hung out at the top of the stairs. Clearly and understandably he could not sleep. As silently as possible he looked out the window in front of him, the one below that looked directly out over the inlet, and observed first hand the misty marshland where their father had gone, fog coming in, getting lower and lower. He were listening for anything that would indicate that the group was coming back, perhaps an unusual noise, a light on the boat through the fog.

Lorraine was one of those social types, and she made herself busy making and pouring coffee for the two officials who remained in her make-shift kitchen ‘field headquarters.’ Sometimes there would be a ringing of a phone with orders, other calls were made, all official, and all out of limits of what she could hear or was told was going on. She made sandwiches for the men in her kitchen and some for the men on the road. She took them brownies, freshly made. She wrapped sandwiches for the men that went into the inlet surely they would be hungry when they got back. By midnight she was wearing down too however, tired and concerned about her husband. ‘It is okay to be helpful’ she reasoned, but not knowing what was going on or what conditions would be found not to mention WHAT would be found on this expedition where her husband was asked to take the crew, worried her even more. Who are these people? She had heard stories of strange radiation that could kill people in just such situations with strange aircraft. Were these the stories of science fiction or were they based in fact? She tried to keep up the comfortable and yet guarded conversation with the men in her house, every hour taking more coffee to the men still guarding her entrance at the roadside.

At 4:30 AM, and I can say precisely, (because it was written down) they were interrupted by an officer who came through the door and whispered something to one of the officials. The relaxed expression left his face. “The search party is coming back” was all he would say. The tired searchers came out of the foggy water into eyes view. Relief!

Arnold was the first let off the craft he was riding in. The other boat followed. He walked the steps to his home. Lori was now out of bed and joining her brother asking; “What did you find?” Lorraine ran to him with outstretched arms. “I want to be alone and think things out” was exactly what he told her. He touched her face and walked away.

It seemed only fair that this family be given some idea of what these authorities were looking for and what they found. Lorraine approached the most official looking man, the one in the black suit. He had had time to interview the rescuers. “What did you find out there?”

He did not give her a reply. They officially thanked her for her hospitality, each and every man, as they packed-up and left as peremptorily as they had arrived, pulling up the yellow tape around the scene and leaving nothing to show of their time there.

It was not until the next day that Arnold told his family and eventually his neighbors what they had found. “It was my crew that found the spot where an aircraft had gone down. There were newly broken branches and trees, the wounds on them were fresh. The downed aircraft had left a large impression in the ground but there was no sign of burning and no sign of the plane having been dragged away. IT WAS JUST NO LONGER THERE!”

AH THE MYSTERY!

WHAT ACTUALLY TOOK PLACE?

On this night there was only one news report that came over the radio, then nothing more. Many families around the lake saw the craft while it was in flight and falling. Demands to know the full story were ignored and even to this day, never satisfied.

All of us are curious, and of course some more adventurous on the lake went back as far as they could onto the inlet looking for any signs of the fallen craft. They went in canoes and rowboats, but it was obvious that for civilians and without proper equipment it was impossible to get back far enough to see anything. One lone pilot was in the air over Lake Owassa that fateful day and said he saw the aircraft go down. He was scheduled to talk about it on television, but that show was canceled at the last minute.

After much hoopla, threats and continued problems with the residents of the lake, the leaking information to other areas around the U.S, and media queries at large, the Civil Defense finally admitted they had been at the Yesthal’s home. They would only claim they were investigating a 16-year old crash of a Cessna. The question was, if this was true, why did they wait so long and why would it have been seen in the air after all this time? Moreover, why would the Civil Defense care about a Cessna?

So for you that love a mystery, was the aircraft so many people saw actually a phantom Cessna reappearing after all these years? Unlikely. From first-hand accounts, it did not look like a Cessna considering the ‘wheel’ on the back. Was it a secret military experiment that went bad? Possibly, but then why did they not find it? Was it a UFO, which would account for all the equipment, the flat-bed and tarps to take it away had they found it? And of course, how could it have crashed and then mysteriously disappear? These are all the answers still to be found.

Clues lie deep in the wooded marshland, the murky inlet called the “Bear Swamp” of Lake Owassa. Some clue undoubtedly remains in the dense swampland living among the fish, and snakes and muck. The inlet is a spooky place for certain, in some areas not available still to this day without special equipment. But the story is out there, and little has changed around this lake community. It still looks like, feels like, and reminds you of the 1960s when the craft disappeared, a time warp. The Civil Defense is no longer of course. Gone as all things will be in time. All mysteries look for an ending, a closure. And this one could be a great adventure for a paranormal group looking for excitement. Remember to get permission from the Lake Authority to go and explore. Perhaps it will be you that solves this fifty odd year old mystery.

Copyright 2009 Nancy Bradley.

All rights reserved From the upcoming book: BE A GHOST BUSTER (With Gold Rush Ghosts Paranormal Investigations)

More about NANCY and her TV shows is available at: WWW.GOLDRUSHGHOSTS.COM and WWW.NANCYBRADLEY.ORG Comments (1)

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