On a cool and clear December night in 1980, Lamar and Marie Walker were driving through the Piney Woods on their way back from Plum Grove, Texas, where they had been visiting her parents.
Lamar was a veteran patrol officer for the Dayton Police, a small town about 37 miles northeast of the heart of Houston.
As they made their way home, traveling east on Farm to Market Road 1960, just inside the Liberty County limits, Lamar heard something.
A deep, fast, rhythmic thump, repeating continuously.
And it was getting louder.
He asked Marie what it was, but she didn't know.
When it got loud enough, Lamar decided it sounded like helicopters.
It was late and there was virtually no traffic, so he rolled down his window and slowed the car to a crawl.
Looking up in the sky, Lamar could see flashing lights, probably around four or five hundred feet up, he thought, and maybe one thousand feet away.
Closer and to his left, he clearly saw three twin-rotor helicopters, or CH-47 Chinooks, military aircraft.
It was a peculiar sight.
As the man began to see more lights, he noticed they appeared to be flying in vector formations, each consisting of three crafts.
There were three or four such formations as best as Marie and Lamar could tell.
By this time, they'd pulled to the side of the road to watch.
The groups were spread out and shining either landing lights or spotlights toward the ground.
Whatever the case, it appeared as though the helicopters were searching for something.
Lamar figured they were looking for a downed aircraft or performing training maneuvers.
And perhaps they were.
Other ordinary folks would also report seeing swarms of Chinook helicopters that night, including two women named Betty and Vicki and a boy named Colby.
But those three also saw something else entirely, something that would change each of their lives for the rest of their lives.
On a cool and clear December night in 1980, Lamar and Marie Walker were driving through the Piney Woods on their way back from Plum Grove, Texas, where they had been visiting her parents.
Lamar was a veteran patrol officer for the Dayton Police, a small town about 37 miles northeast of the heart of Houston.
As they made their way home, traveling east on Farm to Market Road 1960, just inside the Liberty County limits, Lamar heard something.
A deep, fast, rhythmic thump, repeating continuously.
And it was getting louder.
He asked Marie what it was, but she didn't know.
When it got loud enough, Lamar decided it sounded like helicopters.
It was late and there was virtually no traffic, so he rolled down his window and slowed the car to a crawl.
Looking up in the sky, Lamar could see flashing lights, probably around four or five hundred feet up, he thought, and maybe one thousand feet away.
Closer and to his left, he clearly saw three twin-rotor helicopters, or CH-47 Chinooks, military aircraft.
It was a peculiar sight.
As the man began to see more lights, he noticed they appeared to be flying in vector formations, each consisting of three crafts.
There were three or four such formations as best as Marie and Lamar could tell.
By this time, they'd pulled to the side of the road to watch.
The groups were spread out and shining either landing lights or spotlights toward the ground.
Whatever the case, it appeared as though the helicopters were searching for something.
Lamar figured they were looking for a downed aircraft or performing training maneuvers.
And perhaps they were.
Other ordinary folks would also report seeing swarms of Chinook helicopters that night, including two women named Betty and Vicki and a boy named Colby.
But those three also saw something else entirely, something that would change each of their lives for the rest of their lives.
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