My friend Dan and I were talking one summer evening in my living room at 600 W. Lloyd St. in Ebensburg, PA. We were sitting in the living room but around 11 my mother came partly down the stairs and asked if we could take it outside, as my father couldn’t sleep.
We moved to the front porch, where we conversed for awhile. At one point Dan moved off the porch onto the sidewalk in front and I dashed inside to grab my glass of iced tea. It was about 11:45, as I noted on the kitchen clock.
Back outside, Dan said, “I didn’t think it was time for a full moon yet,” and pointed up and to his left. I stepped off the porch to look, setting my tea on the porch floorboards. Sure enough, big bright full moon had risen over the roof of the house across Beech Street alley.
We gazed up, saying nothing for a bit, then I said, “That isn’t East.”
It was North West, in point of fact. The house faced north. As we tried to figure it out, I looked Eastward and there was the sliver of moon we expected. “Then what’s that?” we asked, looking up where the bright, round light had been.
It was gone.
I picked up my tea then and took a sip and spat. All the ice had melted and the tea was now lukewarm and watery. “What time you got?” He had a watch, I did not.
“Three thirty-three.”
We gaped, and I went inside to check; the kitchen clock matched. It was now 03:33. Something like 3.5 to 4 hours had passed.
We did not feel any different, but could not account for more than a couple minutes of puzzlement and discussion. My mother later thanked us for being so quiet once we’d gone outside.
Our missing time included no probes or Greys that we know of, but it has puzzled us both to this day.
