A chicken farmer who lived alone in the vicinity of Eagle River, Wisconsin.
He was about sixty years old when a flying saucer landed in his front yard.
On April 18, 1961 at about 11AM, he heard a noise outside his house like “knobby tires on wet pavement.” Outside was a silvery object the shape of two inverted bowls, about twelve feet high and thirty feet in diameter. A hatch opened about five feet from the ground, thirty inches wide and six feet high. Inside the craft were three men “who looked Italian” dressed all in black, wearing turtle necks and knit caps, one of them in a black two-piece suit.
An occupant motioned with a jug made of the same material as the craft. Simonton took it inside, filled it with water, and brought it back. Simonton noticed one of the men was frying food on a flameless grill. Motioning his interest, Simonton was given three cakes by the man cooking, who was in all black but with a red stripe down his trouser leg.
This interaction lasted about five minutes. The hatch was closed and the craft rose twenty feet in the air before shooting off due south.
Simonton ate one of the cakes and thought it tasted like cardboard. The Air Force requested an analysis of one of the remaining cakes. The lab report by the Food and Drug Labratory of the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare concluded that the cake was comprised of:
hydrogenated fat, starch, buckwheat hulls, soya bean hulls, wheat bran.
Bacteria and radiation readings were normal for this material.
Chemical, infra-red and other destructive type tests were run on this material…
an ordinary pancake of terrestrial origin.
However Jacques Vallee noted the interesting absence of salt in the cakes. He points out that in Irish folklore, the Gentry or fairyfolk never eat anything with salt.
Two weeks after the pancake incident, Joe Simonton told a United Press International reporter that if it happened again, “I don’t think I’d tell anyone about it.”
(Magonia, 23-26, 30)