uld be made as to the possible nature
of the sighting and it remains unidentified."

So ended 1958 and in its final tally of sightings for the year
Project Blue Book added a new space age touch--earth satellites had
accounted for eleven UFO reports.

Nineteen hundred fifty-nine came in with a good one. We used to call
these reports "Ground-air-visual-radar" sightings and they make
interesting reading.

At Duluth, Minnesota, in March, it's dark by five o'clock in the
evening. It's cold. The temperature hovers around zero and it's so
clear you have a feeling you can almost reach up and touch the stars.

It was this kind of a night on March 13, 1959, and as the officers
and men of the Air Defense Command fighter squadron at the Duluth
Municipal Airport moved, they shuffled along slowly because the heavy
parkas and arctic clothing they wore were heavy.

Then came the UFO report and things speeded up.

At 5:20P.M., exactly, the operations officer noted the time, word
came in over the comm line that someone had sighted an unidentified
flying object off to the north. Word flashed around the squadron and
as people rushed out of buildings to look they were joined by those
already outside.

And there it was: big, round and bright, and it was moving at high
speed. Some observers thought it was "greenish," others "reddish,"
but it was something and it was there.

The bearing was 300 degrees from the base.

It was an awesome sight and it became even more awesome when a quick
call to an adjacent radar site brought back the word that they had
just picked up a target on a bearing of 300 degrees from the air
base. They were tracking it and taking scope photos.

In the alert hangar, the two pilots standing the alert had been
listening to a running account of the sighting so when the scramble
bell rang they took off for their airplanes like a couple of sprinters.

As the two big alert hangar doors swung up the whining screech of
the jet starters, followed by thunder of the engines, filled the
airfield. The atmosphere around the Duluth Municipal Airport was
closely akin to Santa Anita the instant the starting gates open.

I've been around when jet interceptors scramble and you can twang
the tension with your finger.

As the people on the ground watched they could first see the flame
of the jet's afterburner disappear into the night. Then the jet's
navigation lights faded out on a bearing of 300 degrees.

At the radar site