WEBVTT

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When I was growing up in South
Carolina in the nineteen fifties, we never

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heard stories about encounters with bigfoot or
families of Bigfoot. When I had my

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first encounter, I didn't know what
they were or what to call them.

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I think my dad must have known
something about them, but he never talked

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about it. We lived on a
farm deep in the country, somewhere between

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Honia Path and Greenwood. We kept
all kinds of livestock, chickens, hogs,

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and a few cows, and a
couple of goats. Along with them,

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we had dogs and cats, and
there was no grass around the house

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because the hogs and the chickens and
the other animals roamed freely about eating everything

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in sight, not to mention the
damage that we three girls could do.

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Mom and Dad didn't have any sons, but my sisters and I were just

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as tough and wild as any boys
could be. Dad worked our little farm

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while holding down a job at the
fabric mill and were shoals. They wove

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and printed the fabric and then shipped
it off to various other places to be

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made into clothes and such. And
at that time they were printing camouflage material,

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and that meant the deer hunters around
there always had cheap, misprinted cameo

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cloth to take home to their wives
so they could make them into hunting clothes.

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I remember one hot Saturday afternoon in
the summer. Dad was busy with

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the cows and Mom asked me to
run to the store for her to pick

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a few items up. It was
a little corner store set on an intersection

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in the middle of nowhere. Normally, my older sister would go with me,

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but she wasn't feeling well that day, and my younger sister was still

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too little. The store was only
a half mile away and there were almost

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never any cars on the road,
but I was old enough to know betther

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than to talk to strangers. Even
if there had been a car, it

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was likely to be someone we knew. Now. That was back when cochs

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were and nickel and snicker bars were
three cents. I took my time getting

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to the store. I remember a
turtle that needed poking with a stick,

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A few insects were begging for inspections, and I couldn't resist the wildflowers that

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were in full bloom. But I
eventually got there and handed my list over

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to the storekeeper. It wasn't a
long list, but there was enough on

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it to tell me that Mama was
getting ready to bake us a cake.

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It was hot that day. I
knew I would practically have to run back

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to keep the butter from melting.
Well. I liked running. For a

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ten year old, I was pretty
fast. Well on that day, I

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was determined to break my old record. Lucky for me, I thought I

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had wasted enough time getting there that
the sun was beginning to sink behind the

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trees to the west. The shadows
were getting longer, but that meant the

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trip home wouldn't be quite so hot
as the walk there. I had just

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about reached the long dirt drive that
led to our farmhouse when I noticed an

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awful dead smell that wasn't there earlier. It seemed to be coming in wiffs

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on the breeze from somewhere inside the
tree line. Now those woods are thick

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with pines, and so thick that
it was almost like night once you got

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past the outer boundary. We never
ventured in there. Ever. Dad used

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to tell us that there might be
bears in there. Well, we never

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saw one, but if Dad said
they were there, we believed it.

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We didn't need to play in those
old woods. Anyway, there was more

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than enough space to play in the
sunlight or under the big shade trees on

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the farm. As I turned to
head up the drive, that smell got

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stronger, and I shifted my groceries
from one arm to the other. The

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rattle of that paper bag muffled an
other noise that I was sure didn't come

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from me. It was a crackling
sound like sticks breaking somewhere beyond the trees.

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And then I caught a glimpse of
something moving to my right, just

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inside the tree line. I assured
myself that I was hearing squirrels or birds

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and letting my imagination make giants out
of shadows. I was making good time,

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but I couldn't seem to outrun the
sun. I was sure it was

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dropping faster than usual that afternoon,
and even though the fear was starting to

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creep in, I had to slow
down. It was still pretty hot and

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humid, and I was getting tired. The house came into view, and

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so did something else. I didn't
quite understand what I was looking at.

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I just knew that something tall and
dark was standing at the edge of the

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trees ahead of me. There was
an embankment there that went up the right

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side of the drive, and the
tall trees came to a point at the

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top of it. That was where
the tall, slender, black, hairy

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figure stepped out. I could see
its face clearly. It was almost human,

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but not quite. I had seen
pictures of monkeys, but this thing

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didn't have a snout or a nose
that protruded like one. Its ears were

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small, and it had a pronounced
brow line, with deep set eyes that

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looked black or very dark brown.
The hair on its body was kind of

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long, but more so on its
arms and around its head. It didn't

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really have a neck, but its
arms were long and almost to its knees.

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Or maybe they just looked that way
because it was stooped a little.

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I thought it was smiling at me, but it was such a creepy looking

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grin, and it made its wide
mouth almost sinister. I don't think it

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was trying to scare me, but
it sure was doing a good job of

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it. In an effort to figure
out what I was looking at, I

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took a few steps closer to it. It took another step down the embankment,

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and then I took another step,
and it took another until it was

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all the way to the bottom.
That's when I stopped and I started screaming.

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My kids have a high pitched scream
that runs right through you. Out

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there in the country. It really
traveled. It was enough to bring Dad

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running with his double barrel shotgun.
I never thought of my dad as being

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small until I compared him to the
monster. It must have been twice my

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dad's height. The creature went back
up the embankment, and it looked like

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it dissipated into the dark forest.
To this day, I'm not sure if

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my dad ever saw it. He
had a confused look on his face,

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and I never heard him shoot.
Either he didn't see it or he was

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afraid of shooting me by accident.
He stood there and waited as I ran

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to him, and then we both
went inside. I don't know what I

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was looking at that day, but
I did. Now. I'll never know

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what he wanted. Maybe he smelled
what was in the bag and he was

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hungry. I doubt anyone really knows
what they are or how they managed to

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hide so well for their size.
But what I do know now is that

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I do believe in Bigfoot.

