Speaker 1: Here is a story from Katie from West Virginia. This
Speaker 1: is a paranormal case or it's a series of paranormal
Speaker 1: stories that I really got a kick out of. And
Speaker 1: she writes, I've seen that you have other stories on
Speaker 1: your channel, and I thought these might be interesting to you,
Speaker 1: So even if you don't read them on the podcast,
Speaker 1: please enjoy. I grew up in the mountains of West Virginia.
Speaker 1: My grandpa was great at recounting stories from his childhood,
Speaker 1: and it was a family pastime to sit on the
Speaker 1: front porch or by the coal fire in the winter
Speaker 1: and hear him tell a tale or two. These two
Speaker 1: stories happened in Webster, West Virginia. It's a tiny area
Speaker 1: just outside of Grafton where a lot of coal miners
Speaker 1: and railway workers used to stay. It was between Grafton
Speaker 1: and Philippi. When my grandma Paul was younger, he and
Speaker 1: his brother slept in what was a large walk in
Speaker 1: closet situated near the front of their house. He said
Speaker 1: the wall next to their heads backed up to the
Speaker 1: front porch. From as far back as he could remember,
Speaker 1: he and his brother Junior would hear footsteps on the
Speaker 1: porch at night he said it sounded like a lady
Speaker 1: wearing high heels, pacing back and forth. As they got older,
Speaker 1: they started playing around with it, and they were shouting
Speaker 1: and knocking on the wall, yelling at it. And one night,
Speaker 1: he said, his dad came in there and shouted, now,
Speaker 1: you boys, settled down to leave that alone. That thing
Speaker 1: has been here for as long as I have, and
Speaker 1: it's never heard anyone. My grandpa always thought it was
Speaker 1: a ghost of some description, and from then on they'd
Speaker 1: lay there quietly and listened for it every night, because
Speaker 1: nobody messed with his dad. My grandpa had an aunt
Speaker 1: named Izzy. Izzy ran a boarding house for coal miners
Speaker 1: not far from where we grew up in Webster. Izzy
Speaker 1: was known to have a bit of a foul mouth
Speaker 1: and was afraid of nothing. The big burly guys from
Speaker 1: the coal mines never gave her a bit of trouble,
Speaker 1: but she started getting annoyed with them when she found
Speaker 1: that there was one room none of them wanted to
Speaker 1: sleep in. She finally got out of them that the
Speaker 1: covers would not stay on the bed at night, and
Speaker 1: they would frequently leave the room in the middle of
Speaker 1: the night to go sleep elsewhere. I remember finding that fascinating.
Speaker 1: Since these guys had to have heard and seen some
Speaker 1: pretty scary stuff down in those coal mines, Izzy would
Speaker 1: have none of it. She decided she'd go sleep in
Speaker 1: that room and show them a thing or two. After
Speaker 1: a few nights of the covers coming off the beds,
Speaker 1: she tucked them in under the mattress, and they'd still
Speaker 1: fly off in the middle of the night, so she
Speaker 1: decided to take safety pins and pin them to the mattress.
Speaker 1: Still in the middle of the night, all the pins
Speaker 1: had come undone and the covers were on the floor.
Speaker 1: The boys staying there said that they could hear her
Speaker 1: cussing whatever it was, you damn sons of bitches. She
Speaker 1: wasn't afraid of nothing. And I don't know whatever happened
Speaker 1: after that, but I've always wished I had known old
Speaker 1: Aunt Izzie. And finally, having moved away from West Virginia
Speaker 1: a long time ago, I now live in Scotland. My
Speaker 1: friends and I like to watch podcasts like yours and
Speaker 1: freak ourselves out from time to time. My friend Jen
Speaker 1: recounted a story from a man in her village near Pennicook.
Speaker 1: She said many years ago when he was a young man,
Speaker 1: he would walk home around midnight from a local pub
Speaker 1: up on an old country lane, and on occasion he
Speaker 1: would see a big black dog with red eyes sitting
Speaker 1: on one of the rock walls in the area. He
Speaker 1: said he never paid it any mine, because the legend
Speaker 1: had it that the dog would show up to protect you.
Speaker 1: As creepy as that was. Once we all finished shuddering
Speaker 1: at the thought of a spectral dog in the middle
Speaker 1: of nowhere in Scotland, we looked at each other and
Speaker 1: we said, what on earth is that dog protecting you from?
Speaker 1: And I hope I'll never find out anyway, there you go.
Speaker 1: I hope I've provided some good fodder and I love
Speaker 1: your podcast and the interviews you've done. Keep them coming.
Speaker 1: Signed Katie, Katie, that was so such a good little
Speaker 1: series of stories. I really appreciate you saying that I've
Speaker 1: had this for a long time and I've neglected some
Speaker 1: of these paranormal stories, but they are so good and
Speaker 1: I'm just going to do them on this channel like
Speaker 1: it or not. Paranormal stories are just as good as
Speaker 1: bigfoot stories. Thank you, Katie. Okay, this is a story.
Speaker 1: This is a little bit of a non typical story.
Speaker 1: There's no huge theme here or any kind of point
Speaker 1: climax in the story that will shock you. But it's
Speaker 1: a really fun email from a gentleman in Atlanta that
Speaker 1: I read a couple of weeks ago, and I thought,
Speaker 1: I'm gonna put this in a podcast because it's really
Speaker 1: kind of fun. It's serious, but it's kind of fun.
Speaker 1: So let me just read it and let's see if
Speaker 1: you enjoyed as much as I did. Let's see the
Speaker 1: man rights. Welcome to my first night on Battlefield Avenue.
Speaker 1: My stories don't have anything to do with bigfoot. I've
Speaker 1: never had that experience. But the stories about my house
Speaker 1: are true events that I have experienced. My friend Raj
Speaker 1: owns this house and he's from India. He raised his
Speaker 1: son's here and when I told him about the spirits
Speaker 1: that live here, he just laughed at me laughter. A
Speaker 1: few minutes he ask if it bothered me. I had
Speaker 1: to say, no, haven't had any negative experiences. So let
Speaker 1: me jump in and tell you a little bit about them.
Speaker 1: My name is of no concern to the readers or listeners.
Speaker 1: My house is in such a geographically specific place that
Speaker 1: it is easy to find if you research any history
Speaker 1: about General McPherson and his death, you will find a
Speaker 1: treasure trove of information. This is the history of Battlefield Avenue.
Speaker 1: It's only three blocks long now. When I twenty plowed
Speaker 1: through Atlanta, my street was significantly shortened. I live here
Speaker 1: by myself with two crazy cats, and I have lots
Speaker 1: of work to do on this old house, and I
Speaker 1: don't get lonely. I'm retired from the movie industry. Now
Speaker 1: get a check from Social Security, and I try to
Speaker 1: get to the end of each month. I was a
Speaker 1: special effects fabricator, so if you drive down my streets,
Speaker 1: you'll see my cats and my work in the front
Speaker 1: of the house. I never call it my house. I'm
Speaker 1: not here alone, and the spirits that call this home
Speaker 1: have been here, and we'll be here after I'm gone.
Speaker 1: The work is never ending here. There's not a single
Speaker 1: miter joint in the whole house. Nothing is up to code.
Speaker 1: The first time I took the cover off the electrical panel,
Speaker 1: I thought I was going to die. There were ground
Speaker 1: wires that were barely attached, and everything had the appearance
Speaker 1: of being hand tightened or just in place, ready to
Speaker 1: be locked down and tightened from the installation. There was
Speaker 1: no master breaker either, so I put on my rubber
Speaker 1: gloves and grab what I hoped was a well insulated screwdriver.
Speaker 1: Needless to say, I learned something about electrons when I
Speaker 1: was younger, so a lot of my mystery circuits started
Speaker 1: working a whole lot better. There's an LED strip over
Speaker 1: my couch, and it still didn't work. It has two switches,
Speaker 1: one by the door for a light and a separate
Speaker 1: switch for the ceiling fan that I wanted to put in.
Speaker 1: I took the ghost lights down and I tossed them,
Speaker 1: and when I came in from the trash, the kitchen
Speaker 1: lights blinked. And when I say blinked, I should say
Speaker 1: strove like a disco. I thought the door closing might
Speaker 1: have just helped me find another loose wiring problem. So
Speaker 1: I slammed the door several times, but it didn't blink anymore,
Speaker 1: and I replaced the bulb with a new one, and
Speaker 1: I went back to work. My cats are so funny.
Speaker 1: One is black. His name is Merlin because he thinks
Speaker 1: he's invisible. He is most of the time when I'm
Speaker 1: not wearing my glasses asleep in my black chair. His
Speaker 1: brother's name is Mervin. Mervin. Mervin is huge and he
Speaker 1: weighs fourteen pounds and has weird spots on his back
Speaker 1: like a bobcat. His tail is like a small chain
Speaker 1: which he uses to clear off my desk when it thunders.
Speaker 1: I call it my accessory. It doesn't matter what you
Speaker 1: name your cats. They only come to you when they
Speaker 1: want something. They are part of this eyewitness story. One afternoon,
Speaker 1: I was about to climb up on the roof from
Speaker 1: the back patio and I heard a lady's voice and
Speaker 1: she plainly called my name. Well, I was shocked, and
Speaker 1: I turned and I expected to see someone on the porch,
Speaker 1: and there was no one there. The hair stood up
Speaker 1: on my arms when these things happened, and I have
Speaker 1: that feeling now as I type this into my computer.
Speaker 1: It's like electricity or static. I don't know how to
Speaker 1: describe it. I just go with the energy. The lady
Speaker 1: is plainly only one of my roommates, unless she also
Speaker 1: pulls on my shirt. One afternoon, I was working on
Speaker 1: a guitar and I felt a tug on my sleeve.
Speaker 1: I turned, expecting to see Merlin on the arm of
Speaker 1: my chair, and there he was asleep on the chair
Speaker 1: behind me. Mervin likes to climb up to the highest
Speaker 1: point in the room, so he was on the the
Speaker 1: arm wy. He says he doesn't know how to spell it.
Speaker 1: I don't know how to smell that either. I think
Speaker 1: it's a RMS maybe anyway, armoy and he was fast
Speaker 1: asleep again. The hairs on my arms stood up once.
Speaker 1: When I tried to get up from the chair. I
Speaker 1: felt like my shirt was caught on something right behind
Speaker 1: my back, like a hand pulling me back down or
Speaker 1: a bungee cord. The shirt tug was just the beginning
Speaker 1: of a lot of physical manifestations. Also have a big
Speaker 1: attict tin roof and a fireplace that heats the kitchen
Speaker 1: in the bedroom. I've heard a lot of noise from
Speaker 1: the attic, mostly squirrels. One day I was in the kitchen,
Speaker 1: Merlin was laying in the exact middle of the room
Speaker 1: licking his butt. Sorry, that's what cats do when they're bored.
Speaker 1: They always have to be right in the center of
Speaker 1: my way. Well, I heard footsteps from the attic, and
Speaker 1: it was no mistake. Someone was walking just above my head.
Speaker 1: Above the kitchen. The roof is low, there's no way
Speaker 1: to walk, not upright on two feet. I looked down
Speaker 1: at Merlin and he had stopped licking his blood, and
Speaker 1: he was staring at the ceiling, just like I had been.
Speaker 1: That's when I realized I wasn't hearing things. The light
Speaker 1: flicker is my other roommate. He rings the doorbell and
Speaker 1: makes me think I have a bad bub by making
Speaker 1: it get dim or flash. He seems to be the
Speaker 1: one with a sense of humor. It's funny as hell
Speaker 1: to turn off or just flash the bathroom light when
Speaker 1: it's dark and I'm in the shower. Does it all
Speaker 1: the time. Sometimes I think he's acting like a little kid.
Speaker 1: Now I wonder if this is also the middle of
Speaker 1: the night doorknocker too. Oh yeah. I have two doors
Speaker 1: in the front. The patio has tools in my solar
Speaker 1: system battery, so I keep the outside door locked at night.
Speaker 1: The doorbell is also on the inside door. Usually the
Speaker 1: knocker comes around four am. Sometimes it's three soft knocks
Speaker 1: and that's all. But a couple of times it's been
Speaker 1: followed by five or six loud bangs. And one time
Speaker 1: the doorbell wouldn't stop and the alarm system went off. Well,
Speaker 1: that would be okay, but the alarm system is not
Speaker 1: wired up and it does not work. So I'm glad
Speaker 1: my life is filled with the knowledge that when my
Speaker 1: physical shell is gone, I can come back and mess
Speaker 1: with a living There's more to come from Battlefield Avenue.
Speaker 1: That was just a short email, and I thought it
Speaker 1: was kind of comical, and this man has a great
Speaker 1: attitude towards this stuff and he's having fun with it.
Speaker 1: And you know, we always tend to be afraid of
Speaker 1: these things, and maybe sometimes we don't need to be.
Speaker 1: Maybe sometimes we just need to keep a good light
Speaker 1: attitude toward the things like this gentleman on Battlefield Avenue
Speaker 1: is going through and just kind of roll with it
Speaker 1: and have fun with it and just assume these things
Speaker 1: are not evil or not assumed that they're evil, and
Speaker 1: just kind of wiged him out. And he seems to
Speaker 1: have found out that these things aren't evil or bent
Speaker 1: on hurting him yet he hasn't figured that out yet,
Speaker 1: or hasn't discovered that yet. So I thought it was
Speaker 1: a great story and I wanted to share it with you.
Speaker 1: All right, Here is a story from my friend Gerald.
Speaker 1: Gerald has sent I bet he sent me a half
Speaker 1: a dozen stories and he takes. I've never talked to Gerald,
Speaker 1: but we just kind of communicate via email, and he
Speaker 1: writes stories about his local area and a lot of
Speaker 1: folklore and things that are true, things he's heard. I
Speaker 1: guess through the years or has researched Gerald. If I'm wrong,
Speaker 1: you can email me and tell But he was a
Speaker 1: good writer, and he recounts stories that he knows about.
Speaker 1: This one is called I can't remember the name of it.
Speaker 1: I can't remember what he called it in the email,
Speaker 1: but I'm just going to read it. It was a
Speaker 1: breathless day and Walnut Run, Iowa. Sunlight fell like a
Speaker 1: golden lance. Bud de Young jounced up and down in
Speaker 1: the tractor's hard seat. That's the only thing wrong with
Speaker 1: this John Deere forty twenty. He thought, this open cab,
Speaker 1: he ran a brown arm over his forehead. Damn this
Speaker 1: dusty work, he thought. Behind him, the plow blades turned
Speaker 1: over thick scabs of earth, and he steered deeper into
Speaker 1: the mound. De Young had bought his land last autumn
Speaker 1: from Irwin Path. As the old timer began disposing of
Speaker 1: his life, cancer would kill him. In December, Path was
Speaker 1: reduced to his holdings so as to have something to
Speaker 1: leave his wife and children. His son was in an
Speaker 1: accountant in Des Moines, and his daughter had married a
Speaker 1: young dentist and moved to Colorado with him, and neither
Speaker 1: was interested in taking over the large farm. De Young
Speaker 1: felt a small pang of guilt for having driven such
Speaker 1: a ho bargain with old Path, but only a small pang.
Speaker 1: Path was one of the old timers, the old fogiese
Speaker 1: who sat in their ways and so superstitious about farming.
Speaker 1: It was nineteen seventy one, the twentieth century. Farming was
Speaker 1: now scientific, and there's no room for sentimental worries of
Speaker 1: an old man. Agriculture Secretary Earl Butts was advocating all
Speaker 1: out fence post to fence post cultivation. De Young had
Speaker 1: never understood why Path had let this fat land lie fallow.
Speaker 1: There was a lush, loamy soul under the grasses and
Speaker 1: wildflowers pay dirt Iowa stall. Incredibly, the young Path had
Speaker 1: cautioned him that mound over there by Walnut Creek, that's
Speaker 1: an old one, that mound. Searching lee Path had looked
Speaker 1: up into the younger man's face. That's from the Kahokia
Speaker 1: people before the Mandans before the pawn. Who knows what
Speaker 1: lies under that mound. It's best just to leave it alone, sun,
Speaker 1: he said. De Youong smirked at the thought. What an
Speaker 1: old goat good land like that, just wasting it. You
Speaker 1: find those airheads and bits of pottery every spring, cast
Speaker 1: up by the winter frost, and they don't mean anything.
Speaker 1: These Indians had this land for a long time. They
Speaker 1: just wasted it. Yeah. He concentrated on plowing down the
Speaker 1: distinctive mound, and in the distance a small plane was
Speaker 1: silhouetted against the sun. Was too early for crop dusting,
Speaker 1: he thought, must be just general aviation. It's a perfect
Speaker 1: day for flying. Three passes later, the mound was no more,
Speaker 1: and approvingly, Deyong looked back over his shoulder at the
Speaker 1: rutted furrows corn. He decided, this whole section will be
Speaker 1: in corn. He was trying to compute what his potential
Speaker 1: return on the investment might be when a dark shadow
Speaker 1: crossed over him. He peered up, but there was nothing there,
Speaker 1: and then in the distance he saw it. It was
Speaker 1: a small plane canted at an impossible angle, and then
Speaker 1: it banked upward. He stared, and the plane flapped its wings.
Speaker 1: Bud de Young break the tractor to a halt, and
Speaker 1: he blinked. It was so far and so high now
Speaker 1: that it was difficult to see. But the plane soared
Speaker 1: lazily against the sun again. Its wings flapped two, three,
Speaker 1: four times. And it wasn't an aircraft. It was a bird,
Speaker 1: some fantastic bird. What the hell? De Young thought as
Speaker 1: he watched the giant bird turn toward him. Its wingspan
Speaker 1: was easily thirty feet tip to tip, maybe longer. The
Speaker 1: improbable bird was larger than the cessnas, than pipers to
Speaker 1: Young had seen in the Elewa sky all this life,
Speaker 1: and now the bird was diving toward him at an
Speaker 1: incredible speed. Clean sunlight illuminated brilliant red and gold coloration,
Speaker 1: and the bird's beat gleamed like a gemstone. De Youong
Speaker 1: ducked involuntarily as the impossibly huge bird careened toward him,
Speaker 1: and it passed just missing him. And in his peripheral
Speaker 1: vision he saw intensely dark hooded eyes. There was no grace,
Speaker 1: no mercy in those black eyes. Distracted and alarmed, he
Speaker 1: had lost concentration in driven the deer out of the
Speaker 1: field and down the creek bank. The diesel engine chugged
Speaker 1: and barked and restarted, but the tractor wheels were firmly
Speaker 1: mired in the sodden ground. De Young shifted into reverse,
Speaker 1: but the heavy plow behind him had bitten deep into
Speaker 1: the earth and it was lodged, and he couldn't go
Speaker 1: forward or back. Distantly, he could see the bird turn
Speaker 1: and again another plummet toward him. Seperately, he shook the
Speaker 1: steering wheel from side to side, but to no avail.
Speaker 1: He was stuck. De Young jumped down from the tractor
Speaker 1: and scrambled up the creek bank and began to run
Speaker 1: for his life. The bird was closing quickly. He looked
Speaker 1: up in time to see the bird swooping toward him
Speaker 1: at astonishing speed and so large it blocked the sun
Speaker 1: and all possibilities of escape. Its huge talons opened wide
Speaker 1: like gutting knives, leveled out toward him, and he opened
Speaker 1: his mouth to scream. This was written by Gerald Gustafson,
Speaker 1: October twenty twenty one. Great story, Gerald, I'd be curious
Speaker 1: to know if this is folklore around that area in Iowa,
Speaker 1: or if it's some piece of fiction you made up.
Speaker 1: But it's a really good story. I loved it when
Speaker 1: a writer can take a thought and an action and
Speaker 1: condense it down to a story like this and tell
Speaker 1: the whole story and and have an impact on the
Speaker 1: listener or the reader. He's done a good job in
Speaker 1: Gerald's a great writer. Thanks Gerald. So I'm a hunter,
Speaker 1: gatherer and all around out dorseman. I decided to head
Speaker 1: out to a state forest here in southern New Jersey
Speaker 1: to hunt for some mushrooms after a few days removed
Speaker 1: from heavy rains. It was a large track of land
Speaker 1: and it's known as the Pine Barrens, and it's over
Speaker 1: a million acres of pine forests and plenty of wetlands
Speaker 1: that snake their way through the sandy barren land. It's
Speaker 1: a rich ecosystem nestled in the southern part of the
Speaker 1: most heavily populated state per square mile in the Union.
Speaker 1: The recent rains gave the forests a renewed green as
Speaker 1: autumn approached, and this was certainly one of the last
Speaker 1: real humid, warm days before the cold weather arrived. And
Speaker 1: I pulled my truck over to a sandy shoulder on
Speaker 1: a sugar sand road, and I began to search the
Speaker 1: sandy ridges and road banks that the mushrooms grew on
Speaker 1: the day went on, and my bag got heavier and heavier,
Speaker 1: with shan trails, black trumpets, and I even scored some
Speaker 1: chicken of the woods on an old oak tree. We
Speaker 1: cut that off an oak tree right behind this office.
Speaker 1: We get a big slab of it every year, and
Speaker 1: we eat every bit of it. It's good stuff. I
Speaker 1: had plenty for supper and much more, but I wanted
Speaker 1: to enjoy the perfect day a little longer, so I
Speaker 1: took a hike down an old indoor bike trail that
Speaker 1: spit me out at the headwaters of an old bog.
Speaker 1: I was overheated from the ninety plus degree weather, so
Speaker 1: I decided to hike into the dark throes of a
Speaker 1: cedar swamp just below the bog. After wrestling with tangles
Speaker 1: of briar and thorns and stickers, I finally stumbled into
Speaker 1: a dark swamp and began to saunter my way along
Speaker 1: the tann extream. I felt my boots sinking the moss,
Speaker 1: and I listened to the birds and the tree frogs
Speaker 1: and the distant gun and cannon fire at a nearby
Speaker 1: bombing range. And I gazed over the forest floor, looking
Speaker 1: for any sign of orchids. I know of a few
Speaker 1: types that bloom this type of year, and I wanted
Speaker 1: to see if I could get a photograph my days
Speaker 1: from my senses coming together in harmony that put me
Speaker 1: in a spiritual nirvana that was interrupted by a low,
Speaker 1: guttural growl that cut through me. My heart dropped to
Speaker 1: my belly like a bobber dropping into a lake, and
Speaker 1: at the same moment, a stench filled the air that
Speaker 1: I can only describe as I can only describe as
Speaker 1: stew of chicken livers left out in the sun for weeks,
Speaker 1: a truck stopped bathroom, and a sprinkle of burning tires
Speaker 1: for good measure. I was tearing up and gagging at
Speaker 1: the smell, and I began to lurch backward the way
Speaker 1: I came, knowing whatever growled at me from the bushes
Speaker 1: wasn't how happy to see me. I stumbled my way
Speaker 1: across the swampy landscape, while at the same time hearing
Speaker 1: large limbs breaking behind me as someone or something pursued me.
Speaker 1: My boots were concrete as I continued to sink into
Speaker 1: the muck. As the light from the surrounding pitch pine
Speaker 1: forest grew larger. I didn't dare look back behind me,
Speaker 1: as I knew that would probably slow me down. I
Speaker 1: burst through the opening like a sprinter running through the
Speaker 1: finish line, and I high tailed it out to my truck.
Speaker 1: I knew the thing was not far behind me, so
Speaker 1: I got in and I peeled off, leaving a rut
Speaker 1: from skidding off that's still there today. As I drove off,
Speaker 1: a loud screech that sounded like a woman being murdered
Speaker 1: filled the air. As I flew down the trail to
Speaker 1: the main route that cuts through the pines, I believe
Speaker 1: I may have encountered the Jersey Devil that day. To
Speaker 1: this day, I've only been back a few times to
Speaker 1: my little gathering spot. Each time I go back, I
Speaker 1: always remember not to walk far from the truck. Also,
Speaker 1: I always try to bring along someone for extra safety.
Speaker 1: If there's anything that I've learned over the past few
Speaker 1: years is that there's much more out in the woods
Speaker 1: than we think. I was a skeptic for years, and
Speaker 1: I would laugh at people if they had any sort
Speaker 1: of weird encounters. But now I completely know what's out there.
Speaker 1: Woop man, what a good story. This thing chased him
Speaker 1: out of the Pine Barons. That's what it's called. My
Speaker 1: friend Eric, who does a ssquatch podcast, He's done a
Speaker 1: lot of expeditions in the pine barns, and that Jersey
Speaker 1: Devil story seems to whole some water. I mean, tons
Speaker 1: of people see that stuff. Okay, here's another email that
Speaker 1: I think you guys will find interesting. The writer doesn't
Speaker 1: want her name revealed. Thank you for letting me share
Speaker 1: these encounters that I'll never forget. I'd like to keep
Speaker 1: my name anonymous due to the risk of being ridiculed
Speaker 1: or being made fun of. My first encounter occurred in
Speaker 1: the summer of two thousand and two in central Indiana.
Speaker 1: I grew up with my mother being interested in Bigfoot,
Speaker 1: but it was always a joke in my family and
Speaker 1: not considered to be a real creature. My beliefs quickly
Speaker 1: changed in just a moment with an unexpected encounter. My
Speaker 1: older sister and I often enjoyed going to youth group
Speaker 1: that met midweek about an hour from our home. Our
Speaker 1: parents let us go, but we were told always to
Speaker 1: get home before dark. That particular night, the service lasted
Speaker 1: longer than normal, causing us to be traveling home in
Speaker 1: the dark. And my parents lived on a dead end
Speaker 1: road fairly remote with an additional quarter mile driveway. We
Speaker 1: rounded the curve of the dead end road and standing
Speaker 1: in the middle of the road was a large, dark
Speaker 1: figure with glowing red eyes. My sister was driving and
Speaker 1: quickly stopped the car in the road. The figure just
Speaker 1: stood there staring at us, and we stared at it.
Speaker 1: I know it only stood there for a very short time,
Speaker 1: but it felt like it was several minutes, and then
Speaker 1: the creature quickly walked off the road and into the woods.
Speaker 1: I don't remember feeling fear, but more absolute shock. My
Speaker 1: sister quickly went down the driveway to the safety of
Speaker 1: our parents' home. The picture of those glowing red eyes
Speaker 1: has never left my mind. I can see it in
Speaker 1: my mind just like it was yesterday. Twelve years later,
Speaker 1: and I was married and living with my husband on
Speaker 1: almost a two hundred acre horse ranch that was shared
Speaker 1: by his family. I told my husband my previous experience,
Speaker 1: but he never acted like he believed me. One night,
Speaker 1: we decided we wanted to camp out, and we pitched
Speaker 1: a tent in the woods where we lived and enjoyed
Speaker 1: the evening around the campfire. We climbed in our tent
Speaker 1: to go to sleep, and at the same time we
Speaker 1: both had this overwhelming feeling of dread and danger close by.
Speaker 1: We didn't see anything, but felt like we immediately had
Speaker 1: to get out of there, and we grabbed our phones
Speaker 1: and flashlights and we took off on the four wheeler
Speaker 1: to go back to our home. A few weeks later,
Speaker 1: my husband decided to take our two dogs on a
Speaker 1: late night four wheeler ride in the hayfield behind the
Speaker 1: large wooded area. He wanted to see what wildlife was
Speaker 1: out there at night. The dogs were excited to go
Speaker 1: and joyfully ran ahead of the four wheeler like they
Speaker 1: usually do. My husband got to the hayfield and he
Speaker 1: shut the four wheeler off, taking advantage of the moonlight. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: the dogs came back crying and tried to climb onto
Speaker 1: the fore wheeler with him. My husband was trying to
Speaker 1: figure out what had our dogs so scared, and he
Speaker 1: shined us light across the field, and across the field,
Speaker 1: his light hit a large black figure with glowing red eyes.
Speaker 1: He said. The creature quickly started walking away into the field,
Speaker 1: but kept its eye on him. He started the four
Speaker 1: We learned and came back to the house with our dogs.
Speaker 1: He came inside and his face was completely pale, as
Speaker 1: if the blood had drained from his face. He told
Speaker 1: me what he had seen. We didn't get much sleep
Speaker 1: that night, and our dogs slept inside with us. I
Speaker 1: haven't seen anything out of the ordinary since then. I
Speaker 1: started to get scared to go out in the woods,
Speaker 1: but have since decided that the woods are God's creation
Speaker 1: and I'm going to enjoy them. Good for you. I
Speaker 1: don't know the origins of Bigfoot, but I know they're real.
Speaker 1: Thank you, and God blessed well. God bless you, ma'am.
Speaker 1: That was a great story. I really appreciate it. I
Speaker 1: think it might be kind of unusual for one person
Speaker 1: to have an experience when they're younger, and then they
Speaker 1: get married in their spouse years later has almost an
Speaker 1: identical experience. That's kind of unusual, but it sure, you know,
Speaker 1: it kind of justifies everything you told him all up
Speaker 1: until that date. But it's just a wonderful story. I
Speaker 1: really appreciate it, and I know it's scary, but we
Speaker 1: all loved it, so thanks for sending it. I don't
Speaker 1: know who this is from, but it's a good one.
Speaker 1: At some point anyway I'm reading it, Cole I have.
Speaker 1: I've just kind of breezed through it, so I'm going
Speaker 1: to stumble through it. Hey, Cam, I found your YouTube
Speaker 1: channel a week or so ago, and I enjoy all
Speaker 1: the stories you share from all the people that have encounters.
Speaker 1: I'd like to share my encounters with you. My first
Speaker 1: encounter happened when I was nine years old. I was
Speaker 1: fishing with my brother and my stepdad on a remote
Speaker 1: part of the river in Edwards, New York. We were
Speaker 1: about two miles back in the woods from any main
Speaker 1: road or house. I was fishing by myself in a
Speaker 1: section of the river when all of a sudden, I
Speaker 1: had a sense of fear come over me. I was
Speaker 1: scared like any nine year old boy would be, when
Speaker 1: all of a sudden, on the other side of the river,
Speaker 1: a forty foot tall dead pine was pushed over thirty
Speaker 1: yards inside of the woodline, right in front of me.
Speaker 1: There was no breeze this day, and no black bear
Speaker 1: was going to knock over such a huge tree. It
Speaker 1: scared me to my core, and being a clueless kid,
Speaker 1: I ran to find my stepdad at the time, just
Speaker 1: for a sense of safety. My second encounter happened in
Speaker 1: a small town in western Vermont, where I have lived
Speaker 1: my entire life, and I was heading to a job
Speaker 1: site early that morning. When driving down a two lane
Speaker 1: country road which I had traveled a thousand times, I
Speaker 1: came around the corner in the road and a figure
Speaker 1: stepped out from behind a tree for a few seconds.
Speaker 1: As I caught it in the high beams of my
Speaker 1: lifted Chevy pickup truck, I was at a loss for
Speaker 1: words when my brother said from the passenger seat, did
Speaker 1: you see that too? Judging by the hood of my truck,
Speaker 1: this thing was all of seven feet tall that had
Speaker 1: yellow eyes shine. Although the sighting was one of only
Speaker 1: a few seconds, but I knew what I had seen,
Speaker 1: and my brother was there too to witness it with
Speaker 1: me for verification. My third encounter happened in November of
Speaker 1: twenty twenty. I was deer hunting in northern Vermont. I
Speaker 1: was hunting with my brother on an eleven thousand acre
Speaker 1: parcel of state land around ten in the morning, and
Speaker 1: I had not seen a thing, when all of a sudden,
Speaker 1: I had an overwhelming sense of fearing something was watching
Speaker 1: me in the woods, and everything went quiet. And I
Speaker 1: couldn't help but fixate on a strange looking stump one
Speaker 1: hundred and twenty yards out through the hard woods, and
Speaker 1: it didn't look right. Many people have the experience of
Speaker 1: mind speak from these creatures. I knew what was in
Speaker 1: the area, and I simply said in my mind that
Speaker 1: I was only here for one deer, and I meant
Speaker 1: him no harm, would he please leave me alone? Although
Speaker 1: I didn't get a response, after five minutes or so,
Speaker 1: the feelings went away and the stump I was fixated
Speaker 1: on was gone. I've had many odd things happened to
Speaker 1: me in the woods in my twenty one years of honting.
Speaker 1: These times are definitely the weirdest. I hope to hear
Speaker 1: my experiences on your channel, and thank you for the
Speaker 1: outlet to provide so many people. I wish to keep
Speaker 1: my name anonymous because I live in a small town
Speaker 1: in rue Vermont and where everyone knows everyone. There You go, man,
Speaker 1: you got to hear your story on the channel, and
Speaker 1: I didn't say your name, so I read this cold.
Speaker 1: If you'd had your name up top, i'd had to
Speaker 1: go back and edit it out. This is really interesting
Speaker 1: and I appreciate the story