Kentucky, TIMES, 14 April 1945, page
the Editor of The Times:
did I see? Tuesday night at eleven o'clock I walked out
on my front porch. Straight ahead, high in the sky, I beheld
the most beautiful light I had ever seen. It was straight
east and looked as if it were directly over Fisherville,
three miles east.
seemed to be the size of a large cantaloupe and glowed and
receded in brilliance like a heart throb. It seemed to be
coming straight at our front porch and I suggested to my
wife we had better get aside because if it missed the barn
I felt sure it would strike the house head on. It cast a
light downward like a lamp shade over the earth. First we
thought of a plane with some new signaling device, but there
was just brilliant light and no flame.
about ten minutes it went out like a snuffed candle. I found
one man in Jeffersontown who had seen it and he thinks it
was a meteor. No, Mr. Editor, I don't drink a drop. I'm
bone dry. JAMES L. HENDRY, Jeffersontown, Ky.
Kentucky, TIMES, 31 July 1952, page
He Flew 'Saucer' In '97 And Started Run on Bank
By SHERLEY UHL
Louisville Times Staff Writer
Kelly, 3008 Fifth, is skeptical of flying saucers. After
all, he flew one himself once, causing, among other things,
a run on a bank.
a retired racetrack detective, told how he and some small
fry pals panicked the city 55 years ago by hitching a switchman's
lantern to a 6-foot-high kite and sailing it at the end
of three spools of trotline.
who at 66 still has a sparkle in his eye, recalled that
the kite was was launched at night in a woods near SS. Mary
and Elizabeth Hospital. He and his pals then walked slowly
toward the old city limits, at Oak Street, towing the lantern
in their wake.
around 18th Street thought the world was coming to an end,"
Kelly remembered. "They all started to draw their money
out of Schwartz's bank on Market Street and said they intended
to go back to Germany."
Louisville's German colony remained and populated a large
portion of the city can be credited to Kelly. While transferring
the string from one hand to another, the little Irishman
let it slip from his fingers and the floating lantern eventually
crashed to earth near Kosmosdale.
were indignant, he related, "and a big cop named Sheehan
got a tip, rounded us up, took us to headquarters and bawled
alarmists at that time had insisted his flying lantern was
a fugitive from another planet, mused Kelly, staring dreamily
toward the skies from his back door.