Jet Blue Pilot Confirms Knowledge of Chemtrail Program and UFO's

I'm sitting at the bar in the lobby of the hotel where I'm staying in St. Martin.  I'm sunburnt but the room has a breeze, and I can hear the slot machines and the sound of coins clinking. The televisions hanging behind the bar play CNN, alternating between coverage of the election and the latest terror event in Brussels.  It's a Friday night but there aren't many people around.  I wash down a few negronis and banter with the people who come and go.

The guy across the bar is loudly talking about flying into the airport here.  He's middle aged, well-fed and is wearing sunglasses with croakies on his head.  He's showing a couple other hotel guests his cell phone footage of landing the plane on the runway next to the ocean.  I wander over to them and become one of the onlookers, except it was my intent to eventually broach the subjects of both UFO's and chemtrails with him at some point.

"Oh yeah, me and him have been flying together for 10 years now," he says as he points to the mum white-haired guy wearing a hat to his left.  His co-pilot looks at me without any expression and I wonder about his history.
"We fly Airbus 220's down here a couple days a week and they put us up here."
"Not a bad gig.  Who do you work for?" I ask, standing there at the bar next to them as they eat their burgers.
"Jet Blue," he replies.  He continues showing pictures and video from inside the cockpit.  We chat about types of airplanes and the difficulty in operating them and what its like to land here.  I wash down my negroni.
"So what about UFO's, ever seen any UFO's?" I ask after a good fifteen minutes of banter.
"UFO's?  Not really, no."
"I'm not even a pilot and I've seen UFO's.  You have to have seen some things.  Quick flashes of light, objects that appear and disappear?  I even have footage of this stuff."
"Really?"
"Yeah, here, let me show you," I say and reach into my pocket and get my phone.

I show him mostly videos that haven't been published here of what can only be described as silver and white balls flying through the air extremely rapidly.  They change shape and change direction at will and the phenomenon is visible to me with the naked eye, although it is almost imperceptible due to its speed.  What appears as static covering the sky above, when filmed and slowed down reveals silver and white objects visibly flying through blue sky backgrounds, all the while moving at extremely rapid speeds and changing both shape and direction.

"Yeah, I've seen stuff like that," he says as he looks down at my phone with his burger in his hands.  He takes a bite.  "We're just moving too fast," he says.  "Up, what was that?" he says with a chuckle as he rotates his head with a smirk.  "You've got some good stuff there.  Seriously, hold on to it.  I've seen some of that stuff but I don't have pictures or anything.  You've got some good stuff there.  Keep it," he says.

There's a brief silence.  I take a sip of my drink.

"So what about geoengineering?  You know, chemtrails," I ask him.
"Contrails?  That's just a result of atmospheric conditions."
"Come on, I've done the research and it's definitely more than just atmospheric conditions.  They are absolutely spraying stuff from the airplanes, it's obvious."
He takes a bite of his burger and I take a sip of my drink.  He finishes chewing and looks down and in my direction.  "We know it's happening," he says quietly in his Southern accent, "We just can't say anything because we'd lose our jobs."

He goes back to eating and I ponder what he says, leaning there silently looking into the distance in front of me.  Without wanting to impinge on him, I left the subject there.  There's a certain line that will not be crossed, like the man said.  He confirmed his knowledge of the chemtrail program, and I'm not trying to raise a fuss in the bar over chemtrails with these guys so we abandoned the subject and returned to our glasses and remarked about the weather down here.  It sure is nice down here in the Caribbean.  Blue skies, sunny.  Nice place to fly into.  Sure is nice.  The televisions were still broadcasting the latest breaking news.  The slot machines played a thousand weird jingles and people looked at them strangely as they walked past.  I pay my tab as our conversation faded.  And with a whimper, we have a standard farewell and I meander through the lobby to the beach.

The sky is clear and the full moon is bright, high in the sky.  I take a deep breath of the windy, salty air blowing in off the ocean.  The air here is the freshest I've had in a long time.  I sit alone and listen to the sound of the waves lapping the shore and watch the stars and the palm fronds swaying in the wind.