Nov 8, 2005 4 min read

It streaked across the night sky like a fiery chariot. Our city home lies beneath the air route taken by helicopters coming and going to Uniontown Hospital. These are emergency copters that, according to stories we have published, take seriously ill or injured people to Pittsburgh hospitals where they can get more specialized treatment.

It’s not unusual then, while sitting in our living room, to glance out the bay window and see lights in the sky almost every night, sometimes more than once, looming in the darkness. We hear the airborne machines as well, if the windows are open to let in some cool spring, summer or early fall breeze.

But on Sunday night at about 8 o’clock, it was no helicopter I saw.

We were both reading, I in the chair facing the window and my lovely wife on the loveseat that sits perpendicular to the window. Something caught my eye, as it does many times, and I glanced up from the book to see what must have been a large ball of white tinged in blue with a yellowish tail streak from east to west across the northern sky.

It flew downward, like the immutable image I have seen so many times in books on astronomy presenting photos of meteors, comets or other space debris hitting Earth’s atmosphere and then burning from the intense friction their monstrous speed creates.

Appearing for what seemed like just a few seconds, the oval-shaped light gave me just enough time to see it clearly before it vanished in the darkness, not long enough to call it to my wife’s attention so she could verify what I was seeing.

Of course, I told her immediately. Excitedly, I said, “What was that? Did you see it? It was a ball of fire that just went across the sky.’

Somewhat skeptically (I have been known to play a few jokes on her, although they mostly resemble that yellow stuff that grows on stalks in late summer, you know, corney?) she turned her attention to me from her book and a popcorn snack she was nibbling and asked, “Well, what was it?’ as if she were waiting for a punch line.

“I don’t know. A meteor or comet, I’d say.’ Pushing myself anxiously to the edge of my chair, I described it to her. “Well, maybe you should write something about it and see if anyone else saw it, too,’ she said flatly, returning to her book. I still think she was waiting for the joke.

There is a difference between meteors and comets. Meteors are solid material, balls of rock or minerals while comets are what they call “dirty snowballs,’ a mix of ice and dust.

There are some regular meteor showers that occur throughout the year. And I have observed the night sky during some of those.

But the meteors I watched were tiny flecks of light by comparison, pinhead-sized bits of light with almost invisible tails sailing across the dark sky. Living in the city, it is very difficult to see these because of all the ambient light.

So, to see something that clearly, this must have been something large. I figure it must be have been a comet. Or maybe a meteor. Or maybe … well, I really have no idea.

I investigated and found that at this time of year, the source of my fireball could be part of the Taurid meteor shower.

According to one Web site, it peaks between Nov. 5 and 12. The Web site also recommended that observers “might see something bright and startling.’

If my fireball came from that, I can attest to that statement.

Of course, if I can’t convince my wife, I may have to come up with some kind of joke or she may begin sizing me up for that long-armed jacket with sleeves that tie in the back. (She might already be doing that, basing her evidence on my sense of humor).

How’s this? “Just kidding, dear. I thought I could get you to look out the window and when you had your back turned I was going to steal some of your popcorn.’

Think that’ll work?

I think I’m better off with the meteor.

Have a good day.

James Pletcher Jr. is the business editor of the Herald-Standard. He can be reached at (724) 439-7571 or by email at Jpletcher@heraldstandard.com.