In the summer of 1978, I was working as a night desk clerk at the Grand Canyon, Arizona. I should say at the outset that the Grand Canyon does strange things to time; go there and you might experience it yourself. We were assigned quarters -- similar to a college dorm -- as part of our pay package.
One afternoon, my roommate, taking great pains not to wake me, had entered the room to use the bathroom. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him, but standing at the foot of my bed was another man, who was staring at me with a look of complete astonishment. Thinking he was a new employee who might have gotten misdirected or had been assigned this room in error by personnel (unfortunately, not an uncommon occurrence back then), I rose up on my elbows, squinted (near-sighted) to ask him if he was lost. He vanished completely.
I asked my roommate if he had seen anything. He hadn't. Now this is in broad daylight. I concluded that he was from the future, I was from the past, and we vanished in front of each other. I wondered if he wondered just who was sleeping in his bed.
