At the end of the work week at the Nevada test site, I would ride my bicycle to my home in Indian Springs. Forty miles were covered in two hours.

Ten miles from home I saw a man on the far shoulder of the four-lane road. He was walking back into the desert from which I had just come.

The sun was setting and I wondered where he was going to spend the night. Focused on getting home, I continued a short way and saw a dead dog on the side of the road. I had seen the man cross the road at about this point and wondered if it might have been his dog. I decided to go back and ask him.

Never had I seen such a man. He was tall and so black that I could not see his features. He had a sense of presence that has remained with me to this day. A sign on his back said "professional back packer". In addition, a number of red reflectors were sewn onto his clothing.

He said he traveled alone. The dead animal was not his dog. I asked if he needed anything and he said he could use some food. I shared some cookies and cans of pineapple juice and then asked if he could say a prayer. He lifted my hands, gave thanks to God, and handed me a ring made from pieces of glass and wire. He continued into the desert and I to Indian Springs.

Six months later I flew to Denver, Colorado, for a business meeting at my home plant. Then I drove to Pueblo to see my parents. My dad drove us the 25 miles west to see my sister in Penrose. I was in the back seat of the car on the way back to Pueblo when a desire struck me for some Gorgonzola cheese. Dad and I had a tradition of eating cheese together but I also knew he would turn around and give me a dirty look if I asked him to stop for cheese.

The urge persisted. I asked; he scowled. When we reached Pueblo, a town of over 100,000 people, dad drove to a Safeway in north Pueblo which they normally do not go to, as they live in east Pueblo. I got out of the car and walked to the store.

A black man was sitting on the sidewalk by the store entrance, loading his backpack. It was my friend from Nevada. We hugged and I asked where he had been. He said he had been in the south and was walking out of Pueblo headed north.

I brought my dad over to meet this man then I asked if he needed anything. He said he could use some money. I gave him $20. We parted. I bought cheese and dad drove us home.

As I look back on my life, I clearly see one gift after another given by God to me. This story is proof that God communicates in a way not found in physics. I am an aerospace systems engineer. I like proof. What could be more clear? God wanted to help the man from Nevada and show me that our laws of physics are incomplete.

God has given me a number of other proofs of His existence, His power and His love for me. These proofs have made it possible for me to move from the god of EGO and science to the creative God of the universe. This led to accepting the Bible, the message brought to man by God in the form of Jesus Christ and the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life.

Victor P.

Sequim, WA