CW:
We have an active training area south of where I live (Volk Field) and once en-route to Madison to see my son, I caught a glimpse of a Phantom F-4 laying down a huge tail of smoke as it hustled along just a few hundred feet up, no doubt sneaking up on some un-suspecting B-52 .
Another time cutting across the cranberry bogs just north of the field, I looked up and literally almost hit the ditch as a pair of B-52s were practicing low level laydowns. They were flying a race track, and the one I saw made a couple circuits, with my watching literally the pilot's helmet through the windscreen (very tiny, but no question what it was) with the luck of the sun angle. That's just not something we see in this part of the country. If I'd been ten minutes either side of that time, I'd have had no idea they were there.
One last 'story' about seeing stuff. I was a plane nut from the time I could look up, I guess. Cessnas and Pipers and Beech were advertised in Time and Newsweek. Tens of thousands were made every year. Anyway, as the military wound down, a base up in norther Michigan (K.I. Sawyer?) had some B-52s and they did something called Oil Burner runs. Low level (particularly dangerous to those Cessnas and such) but the NOTAMS were clear when they were running, but I didn't know about those at the time.
One spring afternoon I was servicing a Valley, center pivot, irrigation system getting it greased and looked over for the first runs of the year, on a 160 acre sweet pea field. A light wind, beautiful songbirds, just fun being out even if it was work. I heard a funny noise and looked to the south, only to see a B-52 nose on, not very high up at all, smoking along right at me. If I recall, they were about 500' up when they flew those routes at some segments. Of course no cameras or cellphones back then, so I was like a deer in headlights standing there like a dumbkin, probably dropped my grease gun in the sand. It flew directly over me. The sound of the engines was incredible, like these guys describe being at the end of a runway. As it flew over me and pivoted to watch it go off to the north, then I felt, literally, the swirl of the air and saw the pea leaves stirred up by what I think now must have been a descending wing vortex. And to top it off, the unique smell of burned kerosene for a whiff or two.
That stuff just doesn't happen any more.
Dale