Back in 1947, something strange kicked off that still has folks scratching their heads today. Two harbour patrolmen from the U.S.—Harold Dahl and Fred Crisman— were out on Puget Sound in Washington when they spotted a UFO gliding over the water. Not long after, Dahl got a visit from a guy dressed head-to-toe in black. This enigmatic individual didn’t play around; he instructed Dahl to remain silent about his observations, and his tone wasn’t particularly amicable. Across the Atlantic, an Italian named Carlo Rossi had his own brush with the weird in 1952. He was fishing along the River Serchio near San Pietro a Vico in the dead of night when a circular craft hummed into view, hovering low over the water. Rossi ducked out of sight and watched it zip past before it vanished. He kept it to himself, but weeks later, on September 15, a stranger in a dark blue suit showed up by the riverbank. The guy spoke Italian with a Scandinavian lilt, had an odd-looking face, and pressed Rossi hard about what he’d seen. Rossi played dumb and denied it all.
Fast forward to May 18, 1968, and things got even stranger in Elizabeth, New Jersey. George Smyth saw something freaky in the sky and started reaching out to UFO researchers. Soon enough, he had weird guys showing up at his door and creepy phone calls telling him to skip the UFO conventions and avoid independent investigators. Here’s where it gets wild: Smyth swore his visitors were three well-known UFO buffs—John Keel, Grey Barker, and James Moseley. However, those three individuals were not in his vicinity at the time of the incident. Around the same time, John and Mary Robinson, a couple of UFO investigators in nearby Jersey City, started noticing a big dark car parked outside their house. Some strange dude sat inside, always watching. One day, Mary stepped out and saw their pal James Moseley acting like a total clown up the street. She figured he was popping by, so she went inside to whip up a drink for him. Then the phone rang—it was Moseley, calling from his place in Manhattan, not horsing around outside.
Jump to January 15, 1997, and William Shearer in Essex, England, had his own UFO run-in. Four days later, two oddballs in dark grey suits and long coats knocked on his door. One stood by a hulking saloon car like a sentry, while the other loomed at Shearer’s doorstep. This guy was tall, pale as a ghost with bright red lips, and talked like a robot stuck on repeat, begging to come inside. Shearer wasn’t having it, and they finally left, promising to return. A month later, while Shearer was at work, two suits showed up again—one from the first visit, one new. They wore hats this time and knew every detail of his UFO encounter, stuff Shearer hadn’t told a soul. They demanded answers, but when he asked for ID, they just droned on with the same canned questions. Shearer instructed them to leave, after which they disappeared. After that, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had tapped his phone—every call had that telltale click.
What’s the origin of these “Men in Black”? Some reckon they’re UFO researchers with a uniform fetish. Others swear they’re aliens cleaning up their own mess. Skeptics dismiss it all as a mere hoax or the product of irrational imaginations. These visitors often flash CIA or intelligence badges, and there’s a theory the real agencies don’t mind the impersonation—it’s a handy way to spook people into silence. Or maybe they’re from some shadowy government outfit tasked with keeping UFO and alien sightings under wraps. Whatever the truth, these stories keep piling up, and they’re as baffling now as they were back in ’47.