Speaker 1: This happened in the early nineteen seventies in the small
town of Piedmont, Missouri. There was extensive news coverage at
the time. It began when we all started seeing lights
in the sky. One was a huge ball, but it
was too far away to gauge how big it was.
Each night, we could all go to the highest point
in our town and see the events unfold. We would
watch as smaller balls of light drop from beneath a
huge ball. There would be fifteen to twenty that would
come out and then zip around in all directions, heading
off to who knows where. Then sometime later, maybe fifteen
or twenty minutes, they'd all start coming back, first a
couple and then a few more. We started calling the
big ball the mother ship. If the smaller bass sailed
over our local radio station, it would go off the air.
There was a lake about five miles from town, and
they were seen coming out of that. These things were
all over the place, but we never understood their interest
in our town. One night, as we were coming back
into town, we decided to drive through it and turn
around at the feed store a couple of miles on
the other side. As I was pulling into the parking lot,
we suddenly saw a huge object floating up from the
field behind it. We all jumped out of the car
to see what it was. This thing was almost as
big as the field that it was rising from. It
had a dim glow, so we could see that it
was round. There were portholes all around with different colored lights.
I tried my best to see what was inside, but
I couldn't see anything. It was completely silent. We watched
as it floated above the telephone poles, and then, with
lightning speed, it took off and was gone in three seconds.
Shortly after that we moved to Kentucky, so we've never
seen any other events. My mother, however, just told me
a couple of years before she died of something she
had witnessed. It wasn't long before her husband passed away.
She had been visiting my brother and was in her
car heading home when she saw something in the sky
she could not identify. She had to stop and take
a look. She said it was a see through like
cling wrap, but floating and moving like a flag wood.
It didn't seem to be in a hurry. It just
moved slowly across the sky. We could never decide what
it could be, but it was definitely something. If anyone
knows what this thing might be, please comment. I don't
even know what to call it. I would love to
know what it is. I wanted to share these stories
with you and the audience, and I hope you've enjoyed
reading it. You may use my name and you can
interview me if you like. Best regards, Anita. I stumbled
across Dixie Cryptid on YouTube about a month ago, and
I thoroughly enjoy what people are willing to share about
their experiences with Bigfoot. I'm amazed at how much information
is out there on this creature, and I'm intrigued by it.
In fact, I've been intrigued by it since nineteen seventy eight,
when I had my one and only experience. At that time,
I was fifteen years old. So here we go, all right,
here we go. Back around nineteen seventy seven or seventy eight,
I was spending an October weekend at my dad and
uncle's hunting camp near the south shore of Lake Superior
in the north central Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The camp
was built by my great grandfather. As usual, there were
a bunch of guys at camp, including my dad, my uncle,
my grandfather, and their hunting partners. All of these men
were World War II, Korean War in Vietnam vets. They
were big and strong and fearless outdoorsmen. When you shook
their hand, you knew you had a hold of something.
Our camp included two hundred and fifty acres of heavily
wooded and rugged land. Our neighbors to the east and
north of us owned a couple of thousand acres, also
the same terrain and woods. My father and my uncle
were hosting our annual woodcutting bee for the upcoming November
deer season and winter snowshoe hair season. I loved the
autumn up there, with the crisp bear and the colors
and the smells. Sunday morning of that weekend was spectacular.
As usual, Grandpa had made a hearty breakfast like only
his generation could make. Now I needed to walk it off,
and I asked Dad if I could go grouse and
squirrel hunting before we started on the wood. He gave
me two hours before I had to be back, so
I loaded up my shotgun, put on my orange hat
off down the camp road. Back then, the area was
extremely remote, with only one country road. Our camp was
a mile down a two rut road. Off the country road,
I swung south of the camp road and up into
the hills that were covered with oak and sugar maple
and poplar. I was hoping to jump a rough grouse
and maybe bag a couple of big gray squirrels. I
had walked the land with Dad and Grandpa often, and
I knew the lay of it. I had a compass
pen to my hunting vest in case I got turned around.
There was no such thing as cell phones to call
for help in those days, and back then I was
a tall and skinny kid. I was six foot one,
but I could put the miles under my feet and
I still can. About halfway into the hills, I decided
to take a break in my uncle Charlie's seat in
an area we called the big Ravine. And as I
sat on the side of the ravine, I could hear
something coming behind me. Well, I swung around in my
seat and I got my shotgun ready, and over the
hill came a red fox at a dead run. He
came within twenty feet of me. Well, I didn't want
to shoot the fox, so I just watched him slink
through the forest. It was really cool and I couldn't
wait to tell the guys what I had seen, And
then I wondered what had spooked the fox, as there
was nobody around for miles or so. I fought. Twenty
minutes went by, and I felt rested enough to turn
back north and walk over to a stand where I
had seen a black bear while hunting recently. For about
two weeks, I'd been baiting bear with fish scraps and
such that I'd obtain from a local fish market in town.
I figured it'd be a great bear bait and bring
them in, and it worked. My intent was to see
if I needed to replenish my bait bucket, which hung
about six feet off the ground, and the bait stand
with more fish and snacks, and so off I went.
I used another two rut road on the property my
Grandpa maintained for walking. It was quiet walking because the
forest had melted off the leaves and the ground was
damp on the road, and I walked silently to my
bear stand. I knew the route that I was taking,
and as I walked over the hip of a small
knoll where my stand was located, I could see the
bait bucket had been pulled down. Well. This was a
good sign because bear were the only animal that could
reach up and snap the rope the bucket was hanging from. Furthermore,
I could smell something sour, which I figured was a bear.
But black bear are nearly always nocturnal, and they only
come out just before dark and then they disappear before dawn.
Big bears get big for this reason. I climbed up
over the hip of the knoll and I moved silently
in the damp leaves, and then I saw something big,
black and hairy over the bucket, laying on the ground.
It was on all fours. My first thought was, holy smoked,
that is really a big bear. And in broad daylight
I could hear it rummaging around, which is why it
probably hadn't heard me coming. Its hair and fur was
kind of shiny. I wasn't thinking about anything but bear
at that point, and I wished I had more than
my twenty gauge pump with me. All of a sudden,
this thing stopped what it was doing and it lifted
its head to look around. Well, I'd positioned myself to
shoot if I had to, should the bear charge me, Well,
this thing was huge. I had a good view of
the back inside of his head, and I was wondering
why his or her head was shaped pointy. It looked
left and then right, and then was facing away from me.
If I'd had my dear rifle with me, that would
have been one dead bear with a funny shaped head
like that. Grandpa would have bawled me out if I'd
have shot that bear and hauled me back to camp.
And then I thought, man, this thing stinks. And then
this thing must have sensed me, but it didn't know
where I was. I was only fifty feet away, and
all of a sudden, it took off on all fours
directly away from me, and I was thinking, what in
the hell is this thing? It ran like a cheetah
from the TV series Doc Torre. Bears don't run like that.
Not spend enough time in the woods to know this. Anyway,
I was standing there in amazement until I couldn't hear
it running any longer. I wasn't the least bit scared.
I was armed, and I knew Dad and the guys
were at camp, so if I didn't show up on time,
they'd come looking for me. There's no way anything could
face those combat bats down and lift tell about it.
I started my walk back to camp as my time
was up, and I had a good mile to walk
and I could make it back in time. And in
a quarter mile I made it back to the road
and I wanted to be on that led back to
the camp. But off to my east in the wood,
I could hear something walking parallel with me. It would
walk when I did, and it would stop when I stopped.
This went on for three hundred yards. Whatever it was
seemed like it was about forty yards out, and at
one point I stopped and squatted down to peer under
the brush, and I couldn't see it, And when I
was about three hundred feet from camp, I couldn't hear
it anymore. In fact, I heard a chainsaw startup, which
would have been the guys getting ready to start cutting wood. Well,
I told the guys what I had experienced the fox
and the funny looking running bear on my walk back,
and they listened to me intently, but we had work
to do, and so the weekend went on. I had
forgotten about my experience for years until the subject of
bigfoot sisquatch came on the news. More and more. I
hope you share my story. It happened just as I
wrote it. I know what I saw and experienced it.
I grew up in showing the outdoors, hunting and fishing
as much as I could, probably at the expense of
my high school GPA at times. When I left high school,
I went into the United States Army as an airborne
light infantryman in two different units. I was in the
battalion scout platoon, which in a light battalion is something
you have to be selected for. We spent a whole
lot of time in the woods and small teams, trying
to remain hidden and silent in the course of our duties.
Every now and then, especially in Alaska, I would hear
or see something that I couldn't place, but I was
never thinking about sisquatch. It was not until after the
Army that I became suddenly aware that something else was
out there. My Army career ended at fifteen years of
active duty. I was a senior in CEO, but I
was stuck and recruiting and it was killing me. I
long for the days of leading soldiers in the field
and not trying to survive in the recruiting command from
day to day. We moved from Maine to our last
duty station, where I earned the right to be a hunting, fishing,
and recreation guide. I say earn the right because to
be a registered main guide is a bit of an ordeal.
You can't just hang out a sign and start a business.
The licensing process is thorough. You have to demonstrate you
are a capable outdorsement and leader. The main woods can
be a dangerous place, and the Department of Inland Fisheries
and Wildlife are careful about who should or who should
not be taking people into the wilderness. It was a
great opportunity, but after the economic turndown of two thousand
and eight, I struggle to keep things going for a
few years. I ended up landing a great job with
the federal government. Though I certainly don't spend as much
time outside now as I would like to. I'm a
lifelong outdoorsman who has probably spent a whole lot more
time in the wilderness area than many of the keyboard
skeptics who insist that we all must be crazy for
believing in Sasquatch. I'm not just a believer. I'm a knower.
My wake up call came in the main bear season
of two thousand and nine. I was guiding an area
just northeast of Bald Mountain Pond, a fairway southeast of
the last paved road at Moxie. I had two hunters
on stands two miles apart. It was nearing sunset on
a beautiful day. Because I needed to pick up the
hunters within an hour or so, I decided to quietly
roll my truck out onto a high point on a
logging road between the two hunters. From there I would
hear any shots that might come from either side, and
from there I could plan my approach to pick them up.
Both stands were crawling with bears, so I expected one
of them to harvest one. Typically, i'd wait until a
half hour past sunset and that i'd start to walk
into the stand and get them. In the dark. In
those woods, a guide can't let their sports climb down
on their own to walk out. That's just asking for trouble.
I had the window down and the truck off, and
I was enjoying air while reading an awesome Lewis Lamore book,
and suddenly, from a dark shadow one hundred yards to
my left, a loud howl erupted. This started as a
low growl, and it worked its way up in pitch
to a volume that no human can match. Whatever made
this noise had lungs much larger than a human, and
it was directed at me, and it penetrated deeply into
the truck and into my core. I quickly went through
my mental rolodex of critters from the main woods, and
nothing matched. I wasn't in full panic mode, but I
was a little concerned. I did have a loaded revolver
on my belt, and I did unsnap the holster and
roll up the window. There was something big in that
dark shadow, but it was in the timber and I
couldn't make out a shape. As dust grew, I slowly
crawled the truck off to pick up my hunters. I
went about my business for the rest of that trip,
and I'd almost put it out of my mind when
the season was over. Then it all dawned on me.
While the family was flipping through channels on television one night,
just as the kids were clicking past the show on Sisquatch,
the team of researchers was deploying what they called the Ohio.
Howell well, I'll be damned if that wasn't exactly what
I heard. I stopped the kids at the channel and
I watched transfixed through the end of the show. Since then,
I've been fascinated by anything about this supposedly mythical creature.
Well that's the end of my first story, and I've
had one or two minor things happened since then. My
daughter and I had some impressive wood knocks on either
side of us while we were hunting deer out in
the hard to reach part of the Black Hills of
South Dakota. She thought that was cool, and since she
was in her first deer season at about age eleven
at the time. I have another story that's just as interesting.
It isn't about me, though. At the time I was guiding.
We lived in Jefferson, Maine. It's a great little village
at the top of Oh gosh, here's another here's another
name I can't pronounce. Let me try to sound it out. Okay,
Tomorrow Scotta Lake, Damaras, Scotta Tomorrow Scotta Lake. I'm just
gonna go with that. If you're ever there, it's well
worth the stop at the village store to grab a
sandwich and ask what the fish you're hitting on. My
neighbor was also a registered main guide. In fact, he
was a master guide. There were three of us there
on the road. We're all pretty friendly with each other.
And this fella also owned a Christmas tree farm which
he liked to hunt on his own. His property was
up the road and technically in the next town. One
day he arrived in my driveway and he was a
bit flustered. He was saying that he saw a werewolf
on his property. He came down to see me because
he knew I had young children. He was sitting in
his tiny toolshit at the far back of his property,
right along David's Stream. This was a habitat edge where
the acorn laden oaks abutted his tree farm. At the stream,
there was a deer trail that meandered alongside the inside
edge of the oaks, and from his little shed it
was an easy fifty yard shot. He'd been doing this
for years because he was getting older. Hunting ridgelines and
swamps was not for him anymore. Besides, it was his
land and it was a safe place to shoot. He
hunted ethically and he didn't bait deer. The natural fodder
was enough to attract the deer. He said he saw
a large creature walking on two legs, coming down the
deer trail from right to left as he was facing
the stream. At first, he thought the figure was a
trespasser in dark clothes. As this thing got closer, he
could tell that it wasn't a man. He said it
was eight feet tall, and it walked on legs that
looked like a powerful set of dog legs, which he
said looked really awkward. This lifelong hunter and master guide
described this creature as having a snout and pointed ears,
unlike a bear. He said, the upper torso was powerfully built,
like a serious weightlifter. The dog man creature walked until
it was directly in front of him at fifty yards,
and then it dropped to all fours and it ran
down the deer trail toward where my house was at
the time. Well, this frightened him because he knew that
my kids spent a lot of time outside playing in
the dirt or playing an army and just being kids.
He told me his story with awe sincerity and no
obvious deception. In his demeanor, he expressed fear and legitimate
concern and sadly This kind man took his own life
very shortly after the incident. I hope that his sighting
had nothing to do with it. So there you have it.
There are two stories from the great state of Maine.
It is a beautiful place with endless miles of shoreline, forests, lakes,
and mountains to explore. Just keep your eyes open and
you just might see something when you're taking it all in.
So I'm a Bigfoot believer, and I've read countless stories
and have seen almost every photo or video documented on
the Internet. In two thousand and seven, i'd been studying
encounter stories for a year, and I'd heard of several
in the Adirondack Mountains. It wasn't that far from where
I live, so I convinced my best friend to take
a hiking trip with me in search of Bigfoot. We
were both in our twenties at the time and looking
for adventure. Within a few weeks, we made our plans
and purchased our supplies and loaded our backpacks, and we
were on our way. We'd picked a remote hiking trail
and headed out. An hour into our hike, the trail
came to a fork and one path was well worn.
It was clearly the path most people chose. The other
path was overgrown and grassy. Which way should we go,
my friend asked, and I pointed to the overgrown path,
and I said, let's go that way. For sure, I
knew if I wanted to have an encounter of any kind,
I would have to choose the path less traveled. We
hiked a long way before we reached a point where
we could take a rest. My friend immediately noticed that
there was no sound in the forest. No insects were chirping,
no birds were singing, no other animals were even moving around.
It was unsettling, and I thought maybe we were about
to be attacked by a mountaine or something. I knew
that silence in the forest usually meant a predator was
in the area, so we decided to keep moving. Not
long after that, the forest grew dark. It wasn't nightfall yet,
but the sun was shining on the other side of
the mountain, and it cast a long shadow that made
the whole area look like something out of a creepy movie.
The dark forest ahead of us felt like it was
swallowing us up, and I couldn't help being a little
bit afraid. My stomach sank and I took a few
big gulps of air, and I could feel my heart
pounding in my chest. Somehow I knew we shouldn't be there.
I told my friend that I didn't want to go
in there. She said, oh, come on, we can't stop. Now,
Let's go just a little bit further. I was uneasy
with every step. Finally I convinced her it was time
to turn back. I couldn't wait to get out of there.
I had the sense that something was watching us, and
I didn't know if it meant to harm us or
what its intentions were. After a while, we got out
of that area of the woods, and I felt a
bit relieved. It was time to start heading straight back
to the car. The woods had fallen darker, and I
did not want to be lost out there. After the
sun went down, we were still two hours from the car.
We picked up the pace as we walked back. I
admit that I felt a bit disappointed that we didn't
have an encounter with the creature, and that thought didn't
last for long. Five minutes later, we heard a loud
popping sound of a boulder hitting another rock as it
landed on the ground, and then it rolled twenty yards
before coming to a stop. It had come from our
left and behind us. There were no hills in that
direction that it could have fallen from, and the landscape
behind us was flat. I looked toward the sound to
see what was going on, but we didn't see anything.
But all of a sudden, I was excited, and it
gripped me as I realized that something had to have
thrown it. Maybe we had contact. Finally, this is what
I had come for. I wasn't scared at this point.
Suddenly I was thrilled. I picked up a handful of
small rocks and I threw them back into the woods
in an effort to communicate with whatever had thrown the boulder.
We slowly moved down the trail, looking into the woods,
hoping to see this thing, and a handful of small
rocks soared through the air and landed behind us. We
stopped and smiled. This was it. I picked up more
rocks and I gently threw them in the forest, and
we waited, and then more rocks came flying back to us.
I couldn't believe this was happening. I was growing more
excited by the minute. For the next forty five minutes.
We walked the trail, tossing rocks into the woods, and
back and forth it went. I never saw herd or
smelled anything other than the rocks. But what animal was
possibly capable of playfully throwing rocks back and forth? When
we reached a point with a small pond on one
side and thick woods on the other, I heard the
sound of a tree creaking back and forth at a
rapid pace. I'm not a stranger to the woods. I
grew up in the country, and I spent most of
my days playing and walking out there, and I know
the sound of the wind blowing through creaky trees. This
is not what that was. It sounded like someone was
shaking the tree. My friend was now afraid, but I
became more curious, and I begged her to let me
inspect the sound a little closer. Against her better judgment,
I stepped off the mark path and into the woods.
That was my first mistake. My intuition was telling me
not to go any further. The energy in the area
was heavy and thick, and it took everything I had
to move my legs forward. I looked down at my
arms and the hair was standing straight up. I should
have turned back right then, but I didn't. I picked
up a large rock and I threw it as far
into the woods as I could. I had a good
throwing arm, and I sent it as deep into the
darkness as it would go. The tree continued to shake
one last rock. I thought, I'll just throw one last rock. Well,
that was my second mistake, and it almost cost me
my life. My friend walked up behind me with a
rock in each hand. We must have looked like a
couple of idiots creeping through the woods with those rocks.
And I cranked my arm back and I began to throw.
Upon my release, a rock the sides of a softball
came buzzing past my head at incredible speed, and it
missed me by half an inch. I felt the wind
off of it as it hung by. Then it hit
a tree behind us and it landed on the trail.
I turned to my friend and shock, and I was
hoping she was playing a joke on me. And all
I could see was the fear in her eyes as
she held up both of those rocks in her hands.
She said, I brought one for you and me, but
we didn't throw them. Let's get out of here. We
both said at the same time. Somehow, unintentionally, we had
made this creature angry, and if that rock had hit me,
it would have killed me. If it was a person
who'd thrown it, they would have had to be close
enough that I would have seen them. We started beating
feet out of the woods while more rocks were thrown
at us. But this time it wasn't playful and they
weren't small rocks. They were being thrown directly at us,
and for the next forty minutes, as we headed out
of the trail as fast as we could, we had
to take cover several times from the rocks being flung
at us. We were lucky. The rocks hit the leaves
as they flew through the air and gave us a
split second warning that they were coming. Again and again
we had to duck to avoid being hit. These rocks
kept coming at us until we were a half mile
out of the trail. They were making sure that we
were leaving. I should have never thrown that rock. It
was a stupid move on my part. You know the
old saying, it's all fun and games until someone loses
an eye, right, There is no doubt in my mind
that I was interacting with a big foot that day,
and this is one of my favorite stories to tell
those friends who won't laugh at me, and now I'm
sharing it with you all. Thank you,