About 12:40 pm Pacific Time on (I think it was this Tuesday Oct 2nd) I heard a jet screaming past (sole jet) due west (SF Bay Area) towards the Pacific. Not a commercial jet.
There is this huge mechanized column going up the highway past my house. Heading north. To the secret Air Force base just east of Dixville Notch. Shhh!
One of the greatest thrills from my Navy days...
I was standing watch: dumb and happy on the bridge of our small destroyer (USS Turner Joy DD-951): binoculars around the neck, coffee mug in hand. We were steaming on the open sea. Beautiful, slightly overcast day on the water. Just a few contacts on the radar scope. A relaxing, stress-free watch.
Then, out of nowhere, a cocky airdale in an F4 Phantom decides (for the hell of it) to fly close to the water and do a faint attack on us at terrific speed. He screams past us as everybody on the bridge reflexively ducks their heads, and "What THE....!"
Next moment, the pilot shoots straight up into the sky and spins the plane in a barrel roll salute to the target he just destroyed: "Sorry, mate. Hope the coffee spill wasn't too bad. Make America Great Again!"
You bet: lots of wet COVFEFE on the uniform... but a big grin on the face.
On the night of 9/11 I couldn’t sleep. Sat out back in my backyard hammock looking due east, the Atlantic Ocean is about ten miles due east of me. Most of that night almost non stop I saw red lights, way up, flying up and down the coast going real fast.