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Six Eyewitnesses Encounter Flying Squirrels Over Northern Michigan!!!

The following is all true and, therefore, to any kith and kin that I reference in the following, you know I still love ya.

From a humble experience of late, last summer (1998), I learned a lesson of how hard it’s gonna’ be to convince the world we are being visited by UFO’s (and my experience had nothing to do with UFO’s).

It was a warm summer night at my friend’s cabin in Lewiston, Michigan, when we saw them. In the big lush oak trees that encircled our host and his wife, a second couple, and my girlfriend and I, little critters sprang and sailed effortlessly above our heads. As they dashed back and forth for nibbles from the cobs of corn that were hanging from the squirrel feeder in the back of the cabin, we scored a perfect inspection of them from a distance of less than two yards with the help of our flashlights. They were squirrels all right, flying squirrels – dead ringers for the illustrations of their kind in a nature book at the cabin. I felt very privileged that they came so close to us, not even knowing before the encounter that Michigan even had flying squirrels. As I would find out upon our return home to the Metro Detroit area, many others also did not know that our state was the home to such animals, nor, for some strange reason, were they ready to accept it.

On the Monday after the weekend trip, my surprise began at the office where I was working at the time. A co-worker asked me how my weekend at the cabin went and I told her, "It was really something. My friends and I saw flying squirrels, Saturday night."

"Are you sure they weren’t bats?" she asked. I said that we got good looks at them and they were certainly not bats, going on to explain their appearance and the fact that they didn’t really fly, but actually glided from tree to tree.

She wasn’t kidding when she replied, "Chipmunks can jump pretty far, you know. Maybe you saw chipmunks." I was curious why she wouldn’t just take my word for what I said I saw.

Minutes later, at another part of the office, I came upon another co-worker who also asked me about my weekend and I told him of the flying squirrels.

"I hate to break it to you," he said, "but what you saw was bats." After I did the whole contrast bit, he changed his theory to birds, "probably sparrows or crows."

I thought he was kidding. He wasn’t kidding.

Later that day, when the three of us office-mates were together, he went on to initiate his own brand of kidding, though.

"Bill, look, a flying squirrel" he said and pointed out the window to a stray cat in the parking lot. We all had a chuckle. Soon, however, the two of them were drawing my attention to notepads, staplers, and even other co-workers with the imperative for me to look at the "flying squirrels."

This was just the beginning, though. Here and there, over the next few weeks, other co-workers, friends, and even family members of my girlfriend and mine all unbelievably told us we were likely mistaken about what we had seen – most of them citing (yes) bats.

I found it more than a little interesting that the initial reaction of good folks to the statement, "We saw flying squirrels Saturday night," was a resistance of a singular bent…

• Not one of inquiry: Oh, really? What did they look like?
• Not even one of suspicion: I don’t think that Michigan has any flying squirrels.
• But one of dismissive counter-hypothesis: You saw bats.

This is a first reaction of non-witnesses! And it’s only flying squirrels!!

This is the part where I dare you to ask me why I haven’t told many people of the UFO’s I’ve seen in my lifetime?

If the paradigms of some good everyday people can’t find the room to accept a cuddly new form of wildlife in their home state, where does UFOlogy begin to enter the picture in our everyday culture…and just how far behind that is the idea of abduction?

Open-minded individuals will say they’ll need more information on that one.

Closed-minded individuals will say they doubt that day will ever come.

Debunkers (strangers, acquaintances, and, regrettably, even loved ones) will say the issues are mired in swamp gas.

Maybe that’s what we saw in Lewiston, leaping and sailing from tree to tree, nibbling on the cobs of corn…swamp gas.

Hey. I figured it out all by myself.

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