My wife and friend corroberated their UAP sighting of more than 30 years ago: On a bright day in June, 1986, while I was flying back from Washington, DC, my wife and her friend were commuting home from work in broad daylight on a freeway near downtown Oakland. My wife was driving in normal commute-hour traffic when her friend in the passenger seat exclaimed, "You've got to see this!" and stuck her head out her window.
When my wife replied, "What is it?", her friend, who was clearly unnerved by now, responded, "I don't know." Because downtown Oakland was on the opposite side of the car, my wife leaned forward and looked right but could see nothing unusual. So her friend offered to take the wheel. Leaning forward and down and looking right, my wife saw what her friend was excited to see: A huge black aircraft many times the size of a 747. No markings or windows. Hovering over downtown Oakland. At commute hour.
My response later that evening when I got home was to have my wife and her friend, separately, describe the experience in their own words and then draw pictures of what they saw. Their stories and drawings matched.
Jump forward more than 30 years to September, 2018, and I am traveling alone back to New Mexico to meet cousins from Ohio not seen in decades. It's shortly after 5pm and my Amtrak train, the Southwest Chief, has just left Union Station (Los Angeles) and I am in my roomette facing forward, rearranging my luggage and other items in the very compact room. As I settle back in the forward-facing seat, I look briefly out the window to my left at the clear blue cloudless sky. I do a classic double-take as something catches my eye. In the otherwise cloudless sky is a perfectly spherical cloud. And as I watch, my jaw drops as a white capsule-shaped UAP (no wings or engines visible) emerges from the cloud and proceeds slowly across the sky. Then my mind reels a little as a large black unmaked heliocopter swoops into view from the left, turning and heading in the direction of the UAP, which proceeds to reverse direction and head back to the cloud. My train is picking up speed and traveling away from the scene. I lose sight of the unfolding drama behind me. At commute hour in the skies over Los Angeles.
But I was alone in my roomette and had no one to corroberate my sighting.