Make A Wish

By Elizabeth Morgan - Reported February 16, 2001

After 15 years of pushing to the back of my mind what my daughter and I saw on that winter evening in 1985, or early 86, coupled with recently reading Communion, I was inspired to finally start enquiring to see if anyone else witnessed this same sighting.

We live in Victoria, BC, Canada, and were on our way home one early evening. When we reached View Royal, on the Old Island Highway, near Craigflower Road heading towards Colwood, my daughter pointed to the horizon and said "look mommy, the first star of the night, make a wish". I glanced over to where she pointed, and puzzled over the fact that the sky was in fact overcast, so it couldn't be a star. I mentioned this to my daughter, then age 6, and we tried our best to keep our eyes on it during the course of our journey home (which was just at the border of Metchosin and Colwood, Stornaway Ave). The light looked more the size and brightness of the bright planet we can see in the night sky (Mars). From time to time this light would disappear behind the tree line, only to reappear when past the trees. Finally we arrived near the corner where we were to turn, Metchosin Road at the Old Island Highway. My mouth dropped open as I slowed the car to a dead stop at the intersection. Just to the side of the road, about 100 feet in the air was some sort of HUGE ship. I rolled down my window so I could stick my head out in hopes of getting a more clear view of the outline. The ship itself was somewhat obscured from clear view due to the low overcast which blurred the exact outline of the craft, however the lights which surrounded the oblong shape could not be missed. I was filled with both fascination and terror. I wanted to get closer, to get directly underneath it, and wondered about a possible side street that would go in behind, at the same time, I feared what might happen if I got directly below it. I then wondered if I shouldn't just quickly drive the last couple of minutes to my home, and get my roommate as another adult witness to this amazing site. The thing that troubles me to this day is, as I sat there staring out my car window, other vehicles approached, and even went around my car to get by, yet no matter how I indicated, no one else seemed to note anything out of the ordinary, or even look up. This is stranger due to the fact that most people traveling that road would have been local residents on their way home, persons who would know there was no such brightly lit up "thing" just above the tree line at the side of the road. The other strange things were that there was absolutely NO sound coming from it, and there was NO movement at all. I scrutinized it, waiting to see if it would budge or appear to be floating, but it was as if it were planted in the sky.

Finally, in a panic I decided the safest thing would be to quickly go get my very skeptical roommate. I raced home, heart pounding, ran into the house, blurting out what I had witnessed, all the while dragging him outside. In the distance, I indicated to the bright light which could be plainly seen. We jumped in the car and raced back to the was gone.

I was crestfallen...simply could not believe my eyes. During the drive from my home and back to the site, the trees were such that it obscured any site of it at all, so we did not see it leave, it was simply gone.

So, that is my story, still to this day each time I pass that corner, I look up above the trees, partly in memory of that night I have never wanted to believe even though I saw what I saw with my own eyes, and partly in hopes of seeing it again. To this day I wish I had never left to get my roommate.

I would be VERY interested if you had any information about anyone else seeing this ship. After so many years, I find it hard to recall size, but it was large, bigger than a large house, also I recall there were various coloured lights, but my memory only seems to recall red and white now, I am quite sure there were other colours....sigh Wish I had written about it when I saw it.

Anyway, I've bent your ear long enough,


Elizabeth Morgan