The Morning Star Rising on the First Day
The Morning Star Rising on the First Day

TWILIGHT ZONE EXPERIENCES

While growing up I enjoyed watching a television program called, “The Twilight Zone.” This program reportedly presented stories of real-life experiences that defied explanation using the laws of physics. There certainly have been “Twilight Zone” experiences in my life and the story below is one of them.

A LIGHT IN THE NIGHT SKY AT FORT ORD

In December 1965, I had an experience that redirected the path of my life for the better. It happened in my final week of Advanced Infantry Training (AIT) at Fort Ord California. 

This is a picture of my unit. I'm in the last row, on the right, the one with the glasses. This is a picture of my unit. I’m in the last row, on the right, the one with the glasses.

It all started when I had picked up my laundry from the Quartermaster after a long training day and carried it back to barracks as the sun was setting. I could see the darkness falling through the long line of windows as I walked across the length of the billet to my bunk. I began moving clothing into my footlocker when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a faint glow illuminating the darkened sky outside. As I continued watching, it gradually expanded until it lit up the entire street scene, eventually pouring light into our poorly lit billet as well.

Soon, a small number of interested soldiers appeared on the street, looking up into the sky, some pointing toward the source of light directly above them. Wanting to see everything they saw, I started walking back toward the door to exit the billet. As I passed the windows again, I could see that even more soldiers were now entering the street.

When I reached the doorway, I encountered a group of about ten soldiers who were obstructing my pathway to the door. I did not recognize any of them and, consequently, I’m sure that they were not a part of my unit. They were having a great time joking, laughing, and engaging in banter with each other. So much so that they were oblivious to my need to move through them. So I asked them politely to make a way to the door for me. But nothing happened. It was as if they did not hear me. So, I asked in a louder voice, but they just kept jamming as if I was not even there. So I decided to make my way through them by pressing on them if needed. When it came time for me to lower my shoulder into the soldier in front of me, I had to ramp up to my maximum force, and still, I could not budge him. I would have had better luck pushing into a wall. In awe of this man’s strength, I moved back to see the face of this wall of a man.

When I first saw his face, I was stunned. He was staring in the direction of another soldier, but he was not moving. I looked at his eyes and noticed that there was no eye movement or blinking. I checked to identify any detectable breathing but found none. The beads of sweat on his face were suspended, defying gravity, not trickling downward or dripping off.

I then noticed the eeriness of pure silence had displaced the everyday noises of a building loaded with active soldiers. I gazed at the other soldiers in the doorway. They were all frozen like manakins occupying a store window as if time had stood still. I gradually shifted my gaze back across the billet. All the men halted in mid-stride. The entire scene looked like a video when the stop button is depressed.

Then the light streaming through the windowpanes caught my notice. In the luminosity, I observed motionless dust particles that were unaffected by the air currents or gravity.

The light looked something like this.
The light looked something like this.

Soon, a small number of interested soldiers appeared on the street, looking up into the sky, some pointing toward the source of light directly above them. Wanting to see everything they saw, I started walking back toward the door to exit the billet. As I passed the windows again, I could see that even more soldiers were now entering the street.

When I reached the doorway, I encountered a group of about ten soldiers who were obstructing my pathway to the door. I did not recognize any of them and, consequently, I’m sure that they were not a part of my unit. They were having a great time joking, laughing, and engaging in banter with each other. So much so that they were oblivious to my need to move through them. So I asked them politely to make a way to the door for me. But nothing happened. It was as if they did not hear me. So, I asked in a louder voice, but they just kept jamming as if I was not even there. So I decided to make my way through them by pressing on them if needed. When it came time for me to lower my shoulder into the soldier in front of me, I had to ramp up to my maximum force, and still, I could not budge him. I would have had better luck pushing into a wall. In awe of this man’s strength, I moved back to see the face of this wall of a man.

When I first saw his face, I was stunned. He was staring in the direction of another soldier, but he was not moving. I looked at his eyes and noticed that there was no eye movement or blinking. I checked to identify any detectable breathing but found none. The beads of sweat on his face were suspended, defying gravity, not trickling downward or dripping off.

I then noticed the eeriness of pure silence had displaced the everyday noises of a building loaded with active soldiers. I gazed at the other soldiers in the doorway. They were all frozen like manakins occupying a store window as if time had stood still. I gradually shifted my gaze back across the billet. All the men halted in mid-stride. The entire scene looked like a video when the stop button is depressed.

Then the light streaming through the windowpanes caught my notice. In the luminosity, I observed motionless dust particles that were unaffected by the air currents or gravity.

I turned back to the soldiers in the doorway and wondered why everything had stopped but me. Then suddenly, it all returned to normal, as if someone had pressed the play button again. The men frozen in the doorway resumed their banter from exactly where they left off, and the sounds of the billet returned as well. I looked back toward my bunk and saw that everyone was moving around again as if nothing had transpired.

I peered through the windows and saw that the light outside had faded. So I worked my way through the soldiers in the doorway, open the door and looked up into the sky. I saw a ball of light ascending into the sky, gradually becoming smaller and fainter as it rose, until it vanished, restoring the darkness.

I retreated to my bunk, sat down, and saw that no one was discussing what had just transpired. Everyone went back to doing the things they had been doing before. Then it dawned on me; they had nothing to remember. Their bodies were there, but time stopped for them, and therefore they did not experience what transpired. Their souls were unconscious. But then, why would I be the only one to experience what occurred? My explanation would come soon.

The Company Clerk came in first thing in the morning and escorted me to the Company Commander office. Once inside the HQ, he checked with the Commander and then directed me to go in. I marched in, did a left face at the center of the Captain’s desk, came to Attention and saluted while shouting, “Sir, Private Gordon reporting as ordered, Sir.” The Captain firmly responded, “At ease, Private,” and I moved to Parade Rest.

The Captain then spoke in an agitated voice, “Gordon, did you know that you have a type 2 profile on your eyes?” I immediately replied, “Sir, Private Gordon does not know what a type 2 profile on his eyes is, Sir.” The Commander sighed deeply and sat back in his chair. Looking me straight in the eye, he said, “Son, it means that you can not be in an Infantry Unit. I will make arrangements for someone to get you reassigned. That is all.” I came back to Attention, saluted the Captain, did a left face, marched out of his office and out of the HQ. As I walked back to my billet, I wondered why I had to endure all of this training before anyone noticed my ineligibility.

It was not until much later in my life that I realized what a tremendous gift I had received that day. I had avoided being attached to an Infantry Unit in 1965, in the height of the Viet Nam ramp-up. I had received an extraordinary blessing!

These thoughts brought about thoughts of all the other times that I had been removed from harm or guided away from danger. Some would call them miracles because they are scientifically indefensible. I now see them as God’s divine interventions in my life. All the encounters that I never told anyone because they would know I was crazy. When I look back at these, I see a pattern of protection that was always there for me. This experience was just another in a long chain of supernatural protections.

If this experience were an isolated event, then I think that there would be speculation about what happened that night at Fort Ord. I have reported these experiences to you because they are true. Therefore, I must connect the dots and conclude that God has been directing my steps all along. The stories I have already written provide support for what I have written here.

Further evidence will appear in the stories that I will be publishing in the future. Together, I hope that they will lead you to believe that only God can do what I have described here. The direction of my life certainly changed course in that short, 12-hour span.

I did eventually go to Viet Nam however, but not as a part of an Infantry unit. In 1966/67, I was with the 618th Maintenance Company in the Central Highlands. Years later, when I was doing my research, I found that most of the men in my training unit became apart of the Fourth Infantry Division. I remember watching their convoy stretching out for miles as they moved past us and on to their westward targets.

It was only a few days later that we heard the sounds of their battles. We felt the ground shaking as the bombs and shells exploded miles away. The sounds of the explosions rumbled through the air like rolling thunder through the nights. I remember lying in my bunk on one of those nights, thinking, I’m so glad I am not where those boys are today. As it turns out, the 4th Infantry Division took more casualties than any other unit in the Vietnam War.

Thant you, Lord. Praise God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit!

May God be with all who read this letter.