Speaker 1: It was an early spring Saturday morning in Vicksburg, Mississippi,
and I was living in the Pleasant Valley subdivision east
of Highway sixty one south, roughly a mile from the
Mississippi River. They have since built two schools west of
the location of my first incident. This part of the
state is mostly rolling hills hollows, and it's covered with
many trees plus greenery as far as the eye can see.
I was looking forward to taking each child out for
a go kart ride that day because it was spring
break for them. My two sons from my first marriage
had come to live with us last summer, and I
also have two step daughters that are also close to
them in their ages, plus a newborn son. My plan
was to start out with my oldest son, since he
had missed out on a few years with me on
this day, Instead of just going down to the end
of the cul de sac like I would normally do
with them to the edge of the woods, where I
would spend a few donuts in the dirt and then
let them drive back to the yard for the next driver,
I decided to take my son out of the subdivision
a few hundred yards back down the main Road. I
had seen a gated path overgrown with weeds and shrubbery
leading into the thick forest, and I figured this would
be a nice place to check it out with him,
allowing us an extended ride together, and from there we
could drive all the way back. I headed out on
to Dana Road, driving west along the gravel shoulder to
go around this locked gate, giving us access to this
closed road. I was swerving back and forth on the
narrow path, all the while enjoying watching the excitement in
my son's eyes as he was scanning the surrounding trees.
We were heading deeper into the dense forest, and after
several minutes, I could see a clearing up ahead which
looked like wide enough for me to do a donut,
and this was where I could let him drive. As
I performed a three sixty, the go cart stalled out,
as it would do sometimes when I would turn too fast,
causing the motor to flood. Once the sound of the
cart engine stopped, I noticed in airy, quiet stillness as
the dust was settling in the slight breeze that was
blowing into our faces. I didn't think much about quietness
because we're all about a half mile southwest of my subdivision.
I got off the cart, instructing my son to take
the driver's seat while I prepared to start the engine
back up and head home. The wind shifted and coming
at us from the south. Oh my god, this wind
is carrying an awful odor, funky wet dog smell that
is mixed with a hog pen scent. I'm sorry these smells,
just the description of these smells just gets me. The
wind shifted, coming at us from the south. Oh my god,
this wind is carrying an awful sour, funky wet dog
smell that is mixed with a hog pens scent you
will get on a humid summer day which will burn
your nostrils. Do you smell that? I asked? I asked
my son while turning to see if he was getting
into the driver's seat, But he was not moved, and
his eyes were transfixed on something in the general direction
of where the smell was coming from. He was looking
at the thick tree line where it was hard to
make out anything. Now shouted to him, do you smell that? Mess?
I glanced in the direction of his gaze, but I
saw nothing, and he turned to me, and I can
see his eyes were glossed over, and he has a
look of fear, as if he has seen a ghost
or something. Yeah, I smell it, he said. Instantly, a
chill overtook my body, making every single strand of hair
stand on in I was feeling a real sense of dread.
Now I don't know why. My heart started pounding uncontrollably fast,
as if it was trying to escape the cavity walls
of my chest. There was immediate fear upon us, both,
with my concern being my son's safety. Yet my mind
was racing, with many questions flashing through my head Within
a millisecond. It was as if I was frozen in
a state of temporary shock. Why the hell did I
bring him all the way back here in these damn woods,
is what I was asking myself. And what in the
world is causing this rotten smell? Are we in some
type of danger? Do we need to get out of
here now? My next thought was the same as my last,
and I quickly pulled the string on the go cart
so hard that I was surprised it didn't snap, but
the engine luckily fired back to life. I jumped in
the driver's seat without putting on my seat belt and
I jerked the steering wheel in the direction from which
we had come. Before I knew it, I was throwing
dirt grass behind the brigs and Stratton engine was blowing smoke,
straining hard to move this cart. I never looked back.
I was desperately hoping to see that yellow locked gate
come back into my view so we could go back
around it. I turned on to Pleasant Valley Drive and
I pulled to the shoulder. I was still shaking, but
my adrenaline was starting to subside, allowing me to feel
a little safer by being back on the street near
the houses of my neighborhood. I took this time to
ask my son if he had seen anything, and his
reply was, Dad, there were big, dark, scary looking eyes
staring right at us from in the tree branches, but
I couldn't see anything else but the eyes. I thought
something had moved when I first started smelling that, so
I was trying to see what it was. But I
only saw those eyes, and they just disappeared while I
was looking at them. That's what scared me. My son
assured me that the eyes just vanished into the shadows
of the branches. I made sure he was calm, and
then had him promised me that he would not tell
my wife, nor his brother or sisters, because I knew
I would not hear the end of it. I can't
honestly say what was in the trees because I didn't
really see anything. I did get a sense of imminent danger, though,
But my son, on the other hand, saw a set
of eyes, and I had no reason not to believe him.
The fear on his face was enough for me to
know that we needed to get out of the woods.
My second account was with an uncle, and it would
happen late in the summer of the same year. We
had decided to go pick berries. My uncle said they
probably still grew wild everywhere out there near this Soul
farm where we lived back in the sixties. I was
all excited to hear this, knowing that it had been
years since I set eyes on this place. The farm
is in Yokina, Mississippi, and it's not far from the
Big Black River, the exact location where Campbell Swamp Road
runs into a dead end dirt road named Chirrard Drive.
We made our way out to the property, arriving at
nine am. It was deep in the backwoods of Warren County,
where there are neither street lights nor electricity lines. We
arrived and I had to stop at the locked gate
to look down on the property from the road which
dead ends at the bottom. The house was long gone,
but I could clearly see the old chimney still standing
in the middle of what is now a small lake
formed by years of the Big Black River flooding. This
road has a drainage ditch, and that led to our
search in the area for muskydines. I could see from
the car that this hollow was no more than fifty
yards away, and I was noticing how the foliage was
super thick, with these long vinees draped and tangled over
the oaks, dogwoods, and magnolia trees. After the nostalgia of
admiring the beauty of my childhood's stomping grounds, we stepped
toward the shallow ditch. I heard rustling of leaves in
the forest floor, crickets chirping, plus this faint sound of
a woodpecker knocking off in the distance. Once in the ditch,
we saw a large cave dug deep into the ground
of the embankment, and it caused me to pause. My
uncle was joking with me, telling me that it was
a big black bear's den, and he said, I hope
you brought a pistol with you, just in case we
come across one out here, and he laughed at me.
Of course, I wasn't finding this to be funny at all,
but I did have a twenty five pistol in my pocket.
Now I was scanning the ground for bear prince more
than I was looking for muskydines. My uncle was tickled pink,
seeing me a little scared, ask him to quit laughing
at me because he was laughing so loud it was
getting me out of my comfort zone. But it would
only be a few seconds later when he would become
just as afraid as I was. I took a few
more steps than there. It was some kind of huge
animal track in the semi damp ground. Hey, check this
track out, Look how big it is? And he stepped
over to see with his own eyes, because he obviously
was thinking I was pulling his leg. I put my
size twelve shoe next to the track to do a comparison.
What the hell, he said, This ain't no damn bear boy.
Look how wide across the toe that is. I don't
see any claw marks. Either, looks more like a barefoot
man track. But that's impossible for a man's foot to
be this big. Something ain't right here. This is no
swamp cat either. This can't be real. Yeah, he was scared. Now.
Not ten seconds after his loud reaction to seeing this
weird track is when we both noticed the silence. There
were no sounds at all, and then suddenly we heard it.
I guess the best way to describe it was to
say a powerful, long roar. The sound resonated through my
whole body, echoing twice throughout the valley. The feeling I
got was similar to standing close to a train as
a horn blows. Whatever made that noise seem to be
coming towards us. The vines in the trees were now
beginning to swing, and we could tell something was coming
at us walking upright because these sounds of heavy footfalls
were hitting the ground, one powerful boom after another, and
it was coming fast. I didn't have time to say
let's go. My uncle had already took the first frantic
step back to my car before I could even think
about it. By the time he reached the car, I
was there, unlocking the passenger side so he could get in.
I started the car and put't gear and was trying
to peel off, but the dirt had my car sliding
side to side in slow motion. And at the same
time I was looking over in the direction of a holler,
and there she was. Yes, I could see one of
her breasts. The beast was partially hidden behind a large tree,
just standing there watching us, with her top lip rolled back,
and she was making a terrifyingly menacing frown, showing her large,
dirty horse teeth, which were flanked by long canines. I
noticed her skin had a look of smoke gray in color,
at least the part I could see through the long, black,
stringy looking hair which was circled around her face. Large
fingers were visible as she gripped the tree. My head
was hurting because of seeing this mythical boogeyman that they
had been telling me about years ago when I was
a little boy. I had grown to believe that it
was an old tailed just to make the kids scared
at night. Man, was I ever wrong. My tires caught traction,
although the car was already fishtailing before I realized. My
uncle was telling me to slow down. He didn't know
how I knew it was a female anyway, he said emphatically,
how did you know that? He then let me a
cigarette and told me to relax. I could tell him
exactly what I saw. I started to settle down and
was far enough from the area, and we began laughing
about the experience. We both chained smoked all the way
back to civilization, vowing to tell everyone what we went through.
This would be a big mistake and a waste of
our breaths. Our family members thought we had been getting stoned,
and then made the whole story up. They laughed in
our faces. It was okay, though, because I don't think
I would have believed it either if I had not
seen it for myself. People can think these creatures aren't
real if they want to, but I know what I saw.
I will never feel alone in the deep woods ever again.
Needless to say, our Musky dyne hunt lasted no more
than five minutes total, and I have never been back
out that way again. To Yokina, Mississippi,