RUSSELL'S STORIES - Mystery Archives

The Lights at Alpha Beta: A 2-Year-Old's Vision

We all have those hazy snapshots of childhood—memories that feel more like dreams than reality. For years, I carried one such memory around like a ghost. It was 1980s California, and I was only two years old, but the image was burned into my mind with neon clarity.

My dad and I had headed down to the local Alpha Beta grocery store in Escondido. For those who don't remember, Alpha Beta was a staple of the West Coast until the mid-90s. They originally organized their stock alphabetically—apples next to the beans!

We were there for a mission: a classic 1980s dinner. We were picking up some pre-cooked chicken, the kind of easy meal that defined many of our weeknights back then.

"Look, Dad! Look at the Lights!"

As we stepped out of the store and into the cool night air, I looked up. Above us, the sky wasn't just dark; it was alive. I saw glowing, circular orbs—vibrant globes of REDS, GREENS, and BLUES swirling in the air.

I tugged on my dad’s hand, pointing frantically. "Look, look at the lights!"

My dad stopped and looked up. He squinted. He scanned the horizon. He looked really hard, but his face remained blank. "I don’t see anything, son," he said.

The Validation

By the time I was ten, this memory began to haunt me. I assumed I had simply imagined it. One afternoon, I finally worked up the courage to ask my dad about it.

"Hey Dad, do you remember that time at Alpha Beta when I was two, and I kept saying I saw lights?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Oh yeah, I remember that," he said. He retold the story exactly as I remembered it—the chicken, the store, and a sky that looked perfectly empty to him.