It was a warm summer night in 1968 in Monterrey, a bustling city in northeastern Mexico, then home to about one million souls. The streets near where I lived were modestly lit, allowing the stars to shimmer clearly overhead. Suddenly, a cluster of adults began to gather, their gazes fixed upward in shared curiosity. I was only six years old, but the memories have stayed vivid even now, as I recount this at 42.
Above us, two perfect circles composed of several brightly colored lights traversed the night sky, each circle rotating on its own axis. Their colors and brilliance brought to mind the glowing Jupiter II ship from the classic American TV show “Lost in Space.” As the spectacle unfolded, I overheard an adult speculate that these might be two planes coming from Europe. Yet, even then, there was an undeniable sense that the pattern and nature of the lights defied conventional explanation.
For a full ten minutes, those circles captivated everyone under that Monterrey sky, leaving a profound impression on all who witnessed them. To this day, the memory of that summer night lingers—a glowing enigma painted against the tapestry of the stars, inviting us to question what truly passed above our heads.