I was 16 years old. On a sunny mid-morning I was alone, walking westward in an open alleyway between North Street and Oakland Parkway in Lima, Ohio, with the sun at my back. About a half a mile ahead of me a cylindrical, gray-metallic object comparable to an airplane fuselage in shape and size, suddenly zoomed from my right (from the north) just above treetop level (30 degrees or so above the horizon). It would be more accurate to say it was the shape of a stubby cigar, rounded on both ends, and had no projections or windows or lights that I could detect.

Without slowing it appeared to stop “on a dime” as they say, directly in front of me, more or less over North Street, and then shot directly westward without making a sound or leaving a trail.  (North Street angles a little northwest but the object went due west.)  It may have decelerated a little before making the right-angle turn but I didn’t perceive it.  Once it shot off to the west, directly away from me, it remained on a straight course and disappeared in 1-2 seconds.
 The whole episode lasted about 4 seconds.  I was a paperboy and I recall that I was doing my weekly collection on a Saturday morning.  Everything was in full bloom, trees were all leafed out, and I know it was cool outside because I recall I was wearing a dark jacket.
 I can’t swear to the date, but I’m placing the time from mid-May to mid-June 1967 because I was 16 years old and it was also near the end of my six-plus years on this paper route, which I passed over to my long-time substitute in mid-June.
 I told my parents and a few friends about it but mostly have not volunteered the information through my adult live because I’ve never wanted to compromise my credibility in other matters.
 I am now 70 years, a retired hospital administrator and retired Registered Maine Guide who served in the Army Security Agency as a Russian-language cryptanalyst who also spent 23 years in manufacturing.  I have seen no other unbelievable sights in my lifetime.