Transcript
A (0:02)
If I told y', all, pack your things. We're going UFO hunting, where do you picture us going? Are we driving in an old beat up pickup truck out to the desert? Long winding stretches of open road, maybe a tumbleweed or two? We're definitely passing some cows and horses on the way. And we're probably headed to the middle of nowhere, a place with no light pollution, where we can see every constellation the sky has to offer. I mean, that's where I'd take my telescope. Just think about it. Many of the UFO stories we hear on this show happen in the dead of night in a place where hardly anyone else is around, where it's so easy to debunk a witness because they're the only ones there. But every now and then, you get a UFO story that turns the stereotype on its head. Like today's case.
B (1:09)
The year is 1989. In the middle of lower Manhattan, Linda Napolitano is woken up to find that she's paralyzed and floating out her window over her apartment complex near the Brooklyn Bridge and into the sky towards a bright blue light. And because she's in one of the most densely populated cities in the entire world, there are people who see it happen. At least 20 of them. But it's not just the eyewitnesses that make Linda's story believable. It's the physical evidence that's left behind. I'm Racha Pecorero.
A (1:50)
And I'm her sister, Yvette Gentile.
B (1:53)
Get ready for another wild episode of so supernatural, because today we are talking about the 1989 Manhattan abduction. Sam.
A (2:38)
Have you ever had an experience so strange, so completely unbelievable, that when you try to tell someone about it, they look at you like you have lost your damn mind? As human beings, we have this compulsion to share our own experiences. So when something happens to us that sounds impossible, we're desperate for someone, anyone, to believe us. And if our friends and family don't, well, it's like pouring salt in the wound. But sometimes being understood isn't all it's cracked up to be.
B (3:18)
Just ask Linda Napolitano. In the early morning of November 30, 1989, 41 year old Linda is fast asleep in her Manhattan apartment overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge. In the early hours, she's woken up by this strange sensation. Her toes feel numb. At first, she's probably more annoyed than anything else. She's a mom of two boys, a teenager and a six year old. It's just a few days after Thanksgiving and she's probably been running around getting things ready for the holidays. So she she really needs her rest. She looks over to the clock and sees it's 3:15 in the morning, way too early for her to start her day. So she turns over to go back to sleep. Or at least she tries to, but she suddenly finds she can't move. She can still kind of use her arms, but the rest of her body feels completely paralyzed. That's when she starts panicking. She yells for her husband Steve to wake up. But she looks over where Steve is laying right next to her and it's like he's dead to the world. She's screaming his name out loud, but he doesn't hear her. And that's when she realizes they're not alone. At the foot of her bed, she can see four or five figures, maybe the size of children. She's terrified, but also filled with the urge to fight back. As the numb feeling completely takes over her body, she uses what little mobility she has left of her arms to throw a pillow at them. The second the pillow leaves her fingers, an overwhelming feeling of dread washes over her. She thinks she's just made a horrible mistake because now she can't move anything. Her eyes start to adjust to the darkness and the figures at the end of her bed come into focus. They have pale gray skin. They stare at her with huge dark eyes. And then she realizes she's levitating. It's at this point that Linda's memory starts to get hazy. When she tells people about this incident later, the following events happen in flashes. But what she does remember is being outside her 12th floor apartment, floating through the air over New York City. Immediately, she's trying to figure out how this is even possible. How did she even manage to get through the window? It's one of those city apartments with a sturdy metal grill on the outside, so that detail alone doesn't make sense to her. She also remembers her white nightgown floating around her. And then, as if in a flash, she's inside a spaceship. These beings escort her floating body down a long hallway and through a pair of sliding double doors. They stop in a sterile looking room where the walls are covered with control panels with different colored lights and buttons. Then, against her will, they place Linda on the table.
