A Real Man in Black?

Of my unresolved issues with things in the sky, the man in black may be the strangest.
However, there were two other incidents.
It’s relevant that I grew up south of Las Cruces, New Mexico, near Anthony to be exact, during the 1950s and 60s.
For those unfamiliar with the area, Las Cruces is just across the Organ Mountains from White Sands Missile Range, yes the same one of UFOlogy and the test site of the first atomic bomb.

Anthony is across the Franklin Mts from Fort Bliss Artillery Range, which you can read as the Fort Bliss missile range as White Sands and Fort Bliss have a common border. Fort Bliss was where the German missile scientists were taken after World War II. I actually worked with the son of one in Palo Alto, California. He grew up in El Paso, Texas. Diether, if you read this, feel free to comment.
My first UFO experience, although relative non-descript is the one I am most convinced of. I was 12 and 13, visiting a friend. In those days, TV didn’t consume our lives—it was black and white and the reception was usually horrid. It was not unusual for families to sit outside talking, watching for meteors, and other stuff.
We were all outside watching the night sky toward White Sands. For some reason, I turned around and looked toward Mexico. I saw (or “I seen” to be more authentic sounding) a wide swath of yellow light appear then arc a short distance before exhausting. It made no noise. To put it into perspective, it would be like a jetliner traveling overhead and bursting into flame, then disappearing in a second. It was gone before anyone else could turn and look at it.

My second sighting was more up close and personal. My friend’s dad loaded three of us into his jeep and hauled us about a mile and a half into the desert to dump us off for our first unsupervised kid camp out. We were at least five miles from the Fort Bliss Missile Range, plus had a 3000 foot mountain between us and it.
That night, we settled into our sleeping bags and were talking when through the tent wall we saw a chartreuse light rise up from the desert floor between us and the mountain and arc silently through the sky, emitting enough light to illuminate the inside of the tent. It landed a few hundred yards away. We were scared, but the light died down and everyone agreed that it was a flare from the missile range (a totally ridiculous but mentally calming explanation). No one was the least bit interested in going out to investigate. Eventually we went to sleep. Later I was awaken by movement outside the tent. We had used a layer of newspapers for insulation against the cold ground and I hear the paper rustling as if someone were walking around the perimeter. I stood and peeked out the window, but saw nothing. The sound stopped. After awhile I got back in my bag and waited, but the sound never reoccurred. Of course, wind doesn’t work its way around and around a square object in a continuous wave, but I convinced myself that it had and went to sleep.

Now, the man in black:
Much later in life, I was at a political dinner the Berkeley Hills. Not finding anything of interest, I went onto the balcony for fresh air. I turned my attention to the sky and after about ten minutes, one of the waiters, dressed in a black tuxedo, came out, stood beside me and said, “They’re watching us.”
I thought he was nuts. He knew I thought he was nuts and he said, “They disguise themselves as stars. Keep watching, they’ll move.”
A minute or two later, one starts moving across the sky. I thought they must be helicopters, except they made no sound, and they were hanging out over the mountain, not over the city. Why would a bunch of helicopters hover over a mountain in the middle of the night?
He continued to talk crazy stuff: He was studying mind control, meditation, and learning how to beat the adversary—
“Who is the adversary?” I asked.
“Why death, of course.”
He told me that he could move so fast that others couldn’t see him. For example, a customer insulted him, so while balancing a tray on his right hand, he released the tray, smacked the guy, then got his hand back under the tray before anything spilled. No one saw it, according to him.
After a protracted uncomfortable conversation, I excused myself, and never really thought about him again, until I started hearing stories about men in black—then I wondered if I had met one.
So that’s my story. I can promise it all really happened. But what exactly happened, I can’t say.