Speaker 1: I live in rural Tennessee, and I was raised in
Speaker 1: a multicultural family with Irish and Native American Cherokee roots.
Speaker 1: Growing up, I heard many stories about wild things in
Speaker 1: the world. I didn't pay much attention to them until
Speaker 1: I started having my own experiences. Once, when I was
Speaker 1: a young child, I was in the cemetery of the
Speaker 1: church where all my family had been laid to rest.
Speaker 1: When I saw a young girl playing among the tombstones.
Speaker 1: I knew she wasn't alive, but I wasn't scared. Not
Speaker 1: long after that, my great uncle told me about a
Speaker 1: time that he encountered a wild man nine feet tall,
Speaker 1: and he was covered in hair. He moved so fast
Speaker 1: that he could vanish one second and reappear the next
Speaker 1: and possibly far away. I was playing outside once when
Speaker 1: I heard a high pitched scream coming from the tall
Speaker 1: grass across the road. I didn't know what it was,
Speaker 1: but I knew it was big, and I took off running.
Speaker 1: My father said it was probably the panther known to
Speaker 1: live in the area. Needless to say, I was cautious
Speaker 1: about being outside alone after that. Well, life went on
Speaker 1: and I grew up, and now I have kids of
Speaker 1: my own. It was a fall night, one where you
Speaker 1: know your hear codes all around. I didn't worry because
Speaker 1: we had great dogs that kept us safe, and I
Speaker 1: was inside with all the windows open. My children were
Speaker 1: tuck safely in bed, and I was watching my favorite show.
Speaker 1: The next thing I knew, something started talking outside my window.
Speaker 1: It sounded straight out of National Geographic like orangutang speaking
Speaker 1: gibberish back and forth to one another. I quickly shut
Speaker 1: and locked all the windows and went to bed that night,
Speaker 1: my heart filled with fear, not knowing what was outside
Speaker 1: my house. The next day, I visited my sister, who
Speaker 1: told me it was probably just owls mating, since it
Speaker 1: was that season. That eased my worries for a while,
Speaker 1: until one night I heard what sounded like a horse
Speaker 1: breathing into one of my open windows. The window was
Speaker 1: ten feet off the ground. I rushed over and shut
Speaker 1: the window, knowing no owl on earth had breath that heavy.
Speaker 1: About a year ago, I went on a walk to
Speaker 1: my friend's house a country mile away. On one side
Speaker 1: of the road was a pasture with grazing cows, but
Speaker 1: on the other side was a dense, dark wall of
Speaker 1: trees so thick and dark you couldn't see into them.
Speaker 1: I was walking, I noticed the sound of the brush
Speaker 1: and the leaves crunching underfoot of something just inside the trees.
Speaker 1: At first, I thought it was one of my dogs
Speaker 1: trying to stay quiet while stalking a rabbit or a squirrel.
Speaker 1: That was until I realized whatever it was, it was
Speaker 1: keeping pace with me. When I stopped, it stopped, and
Speaker 1: when I walked, it walked. I got scared, and I
Speaker 1: picked up my pace, and I heard it following me
Speaker 1: the whole way. It's footsteps weren't light like a dog's.
Speaker 1: They were heavy, like something much bigger, taller than me.
Speaker 1: When I finally got to the clearing before my friend's property,
Speaker 1: I sprinted across the open field all the way to
Speaker 1: her house. Like everything else in my life, the more
Speaker 1: strange things that happen, the more I get used to them.
Speaker 1: I believe some of us are like beacons in the night,
Speaker 1: and we can't control what is drawn to us. My
Speaker 1: kids and I don't go on walks at dusk anymore,
Speaker 1: and I rarely leave my windows open at night. I
Speaker 1: don't know if it's because I've become more cautious of
Speaker 1: what's hanging around my family, or because of the logging
Speaker 1: in the forest around our home, but we don't experience
Speaker 1: nearly as many any strange things as we used to.
Speaker 1: In the summer of nineteen seventy one in southern Kentucky,
Speaker 1: my dad was in the living room with his family
Speaker 1: when a twelve foot tall bigfoot suddenly appeared in the
Speaker 1: front window, so large that it blocked all the light.
Speaker 1: It ran off when his dad jumped up and ran
Speaker 1: outside with his rifle in his hands. Well a little
Speaker 1: while later, noise erupted from the barn, and my dad
Speaker 1: ran outside and headed toward it, wondering what was going on,
Speaker 1: And on the way he passed a giant footprint and
Speaker 1: the mud. Then he decided to stop and wait and
Speaker 1: see if this thing would come out. The noise settled
Speaker 1: for a moment and then picked up quickly again. As
Speaker 1: it burst outside, my dad ran back toward the house,
Speaker 1: shouting to his family that it was coming back. It
Speaker 1: let out an ear splitting scream just as he made
Speaker 1: it inside, and then turned worse and headed for the woods.
Speaker 1: Nobody talked about it after that. It wasn't until I
Speaker 1: began talking about bigfoot that they finally told me the story.
Speaker 1: I had often played in those woods as a kid.
Speaker 1: More than a few times I heard strange noises and
Speaker 1: knocks nearby. Now that I know what they saw, I
Speaker 1: wait for the day that I can see one myself.
Speaker 1: I experienced something with my brother by my side, and
Speaker 1: neither of us will ever forget it. I was eleven
Speaker 1: years old in the summer of nineteen fifty one, and
Speaker 1: we had recently moved to Lake Charles, Louisiana. Our dad
Speaker 1: was assigned to a small neighbor group there as a
Speaker 1: supply officer. We were cut from the cloth of the
Speaker 1: nineteen fifties. We were told to get out and play
Speaker 1: and not come back until dark thirty. My brother and
Speaker 1: I lived wild and free, or at least as far
Speaker 1: as our minds and muscles would take us. Lake Charles
Speaker 1: was surrounded by swamps of varying densities and darkness. My
Speaker 1: brother and I found the remnants of a narrow gage
Speaker 1: railroad track the week before, and we were held bent
Speaker 1: for leather to follow it. We knew it was not
Speaker 1: in use due to the rust on the rails in
Speaker 1: the poor condition of the endless trustle so with our
Speaker 1: sack lunches tuck securely in our belts, and our daisy
Speaker 1: red Rider BB guns loaded up, we took off on
Speaker 1: our adventure. Some well meaning older people warned us to
Speaker 1: mind the gators, but their words of wisdom went right
Speaker 1: over our heads because we couldn't think of anything an
Speaker 1: alligator would tell us that we would have to mind. Hell,
Speaker 1: we barely minded our own parents. We carefully walked the tracks,
Speaker 1: and then the trustle, then the tracks, going deeper and
Speaker 1: deeper into the swamp. Occasionally we would shoot at water
Speaker 1: moccasin swimming away away from us, And the further we went,
Speaker 1: the more we wondered who would run a railroad through
Speaker 1: such a precarious trestle, and to what end? The tracks
Speaker 1: turned south and came upon an eastern berm. Nestled next
Speaker 1: to the berm were the remnants of an old rice mill.
Speaker 1: Most of the brick walls were still standing, forming a
Speaker 1: large square enclosure, and the floor was covered with brackish water.
Speaker 1: There were snakes of plenty to shoot, and that we
Speaker 1: did with much gusto. The pool of water erupted into
Speaker 1: a violent frenzy, and it scared me so bad it
Speaker 1: took two years off my life. A portion of one
Speaker 1: of the brick walls had come down, allowing a ten
Speaker 1: foot long alligator to slip in during the high tide event,
Speaker 1: trapping it there. My brother was of the opinion that
Speaker 1: he was going to kill this thing and drag it
Speaker 1: back to the house and stuff it need. I remind you,
Speaker 1: Daisy does not make high pur bb guns. The gator
Speaker 1: sank to eye level, all the water around it began
Speaker 1: to vibrate from a deep throated sound that it started
Speaker 1: to make. Our limited knowledge of this creature left us amazed.
Speaker 1: Little did we know it was calling for reinforcements. During
Speaker 1: this commotion, we heard another terrifying sound in the distance,
Speaker 1: a loud, promal roar, nothing like the sound of gator makes.
Speaker 1: There was crashing and splashing coming toward us, and with
Speaker 1: our collective valor, my brother and I hauled our butts
Speaker 1: back the way we came. But before we ever got
Speaker 1: out of the swamp, we heard the confrontation, the likes
Speaker 1: of nothing we had ever heard before or since. We
Speaker 1: never saw the creature that came to challenge the alligator,
Speaker 1: nor did we know why. The following weekend we screwed
Speaker 1: up the courage to go back and see what happened
Speaker 1: in that pit. We were apprehensive about going back, but
Speaker 1: youth has no shortage of stupid. The rice meal was
Speaker 1: in shambles, mud and blood had been splattered at least
Speaker 1: eight feet up the wall. There were tufts of reddish
Speaker 1: brown hair caught up in some places of the wall,
Speaker 1: and the head of the alligator was in the corner
Speaker 1: of the room where it was shallow. It looked like
Speaker 1: something had grabbed the upper and lower jaws and ripped
Speaker 1: its mouth apart. That would not have killed the gator,
Speaker 1: but it sure made it impotent as a killing machine.
Speaker 1: The neck appeared to have been separated by a series
Speaker 1: of bites. That alligator had been every bit of ten
Speaker 1: feet long when we saw it, but besides the head,
Speaker 1: the rest of it was missing. That had to be
Speaker 1: at least four hundred pounds of meat and bone. We
Speaker 1: never went back into the swamp that far again. We
Speaker 1: mentioned in passing a little of what we experienced to
Speaker 1: our friends whose family lived on a houseboat and the
Speaker 1: Caucasou River. He casually mentioned there was a swamp man
Speaker 1: creature back in there, and we'd best not do that again.
Speaker 1: Thank you for letting me get this off my mind.
Speaker 1: I have never told a single soul of this event,
Speaker 1: though my brother told everyone who would listen. Of course,
Speaker 1: in Lake Charles, he was preaching to the choir. When
Speaker 1: I was twelve years old, a friend and I were
Speaker 1: messing around on the watch Tall River in Oklahoma, where
Speaker 1: I'm from, running with my full blooded German shepherd and
Speaker 1: shooting at cans and different things with our bebee guns.
Speaker 1: We started thinking we were being messed with by some
Speaker 1: friends who must have followed us down the river, because
Speaker 1: rocks and sticks started being thrown at us. At one point,
Speaker 1: a boulder went right over our heads and landed in
Speaker 1: the river. We couldn't see who was doing it, and
Speaker 1: when we yelled at whoever it was, we got no answer.
Speaker 1: The whole time, the dog was acting skittish, which was
Speaker 1: unusual for him, so we finally decided to get out
Speaker 1: of there, and we took the road instead of walking
Speaker 1: through the wheat field the same way we came in.
Speaker 1: We made it to the railroad tracks six hundred feet
Speaker 1: from the river when we looked back and got the
Speaker 1: biggest surprise of our lives. Right behind us was a
Speaker 1: bigfoot crouched in the tall brush. My friend and I
Speaker 1: couldn't move. We just stared as it slowly stood upright,
Speaker 1: towering over the branches of the trees around it. But
Speaker 1: our legs started working again in a hurry and we
Speaker 1: got out of There. Must have been a week later
Speaker 1: along the same river that a farmer reported seeing a
Speaker 1: huge black creature walking upright like a man. I joined
Speaker 1: the army at seventeen, and I became a paratrooper right
Speaker 1: out of high school. In April of nineteen ninety three,
Speaker 1: I was part of a training exercise at Fort Chaffee, Arkansas,
Speaker 1: on the border of Oklahoma. We were conducting patrols on
Speaker 1: the Devil's Backbone, an area with rugged rocky cliffs. It
Speaker 1: was a clear and chilly night, and by training, our
Speaker 1: senses were on high alert. It's amazing how sharp they
Speaker 1: become when you spend lots of time outdoors. Sight, smell,
Speaker 1: and hearing all become sharper. At two in the morning,
Speaker 1: we heard a blood curdling scream as animal as it
Speaker 1: was humid, and it echoed through the woods below the
Speaker 1: Backbone and had all of our heads turning. We started
Speaker 1: whispering to each other trying to figure out what it was.
Speaker 1: When it screamed again, and then the knocking started, like
Speaker 1: something was hitting trees with a giant baseball bat. We
Speaker 1: never figured out what it was, but the experience stayed
Speaker 1: with me. I know there's something out there, and I
Speaker 1: have to believe it was a sasquatch or a dog man.
Speaker 1: I'm a retired master who deployed three times to Iraq
Speaker 1: during the Iraq War and the Global War on Terror,
Speaker 1: and I served my country for twenty seven years. I
Speaker 1: love watching and listening to your channel. Thanks mister Buckner
Speaker 1: for reading my story. You're welcome, sir, appreciate everything you
Speaker 1: did for us here in the United States. We do
Speaker 1: appreciate you, and what a good story. Thanks. When I
Speaker 1: was six years old, my parents built a house on
Speaker 1: family land. For several nights after we moved in, I
Speaker 1: heard steps outside. They were heavy, four steps past my
Speaker 1: window and then four steps back. When I was six
Speaker 1: years old, I knew it wasn't normal, and in the
Speaker 1: morning I would look for footprints, but the ground was
Speaker 1: always too hard. This happened every night until I finally
Speaker 1: told my parents. One night, I waited for the steps
Speaker 1: and I told my dad, who went out and he checked.
Speaker 1: He didn't see it anything, And after that I never
Speaker 1: heard the steps again. Often saw trees crossed in the
Speaker 1: woods behind the house, and I would look for an
Speaker 1: explanation of how they became bent like that, but I
Speaker 1: never could find anything. This was years before I heard
Speaker 1: about Bigfoot or sosquatch, and long before the Patterson Gimlin film.
Speaker 1: I always wished I had looked out the window, and
Speaker 1: I was too afraid. Even to this day, fifty five
Speaker 1: years later, I won't look out a window at night.
Speaker 1: I'm afraid i'll see something looking back at me. Back
Speaker 1: in the nineteen sixties, we lived in the woods of
Speaker 1: Georgia in a place called aChn. It was wild back then,
Speaker 1: just four or five old log cabins without houses. We
Speaker 1: would fill a tub with water and put it over
Speaker 1: the wood heater, and that's how we bathed. We were
Speaker 1: poor growing up, but I look back and I know
Speaker 1: those were the good old days. One morning, Mama wanted
Speaker 1: me to walk with her down to the little pond
Speaker 1: by the house was overgrown with bushes and trees. As
Speaker 1: we turned off the road toward the pond, I saw
Speaker 1: some huge dog tracks. Right then Mama grabbed my arm
Speaker 1: and she said don't move. Seventy five feet from the
Speaker 1: water's edge stood an eight foot long black panther, hissing
Speaker 1: at us. My hair stood up at thing's legs were
Speaker 1: as tall as mine, and all I had to defend
Speaker 1: ourselves with was two cane poles. Mama told me, don't
Speaker 1: turn you back on him, and don't run. His legs
Speaker 1: were as big as mine, and I had already made
Speaker 1: up my mind that I could hit that cat a
Speaker 1: hundred times before you could take me down. But then
Speaker 1: he turned, and he ran along the pone's edge and
Speaker 1: leapt over a fallen tree, and he was gone. My
Speaker 1: uncle Daniel lived down the road, and the next day
Speaker 1: I told him what happened. He said he'd seen him
Speaker 1: years earlier, but didn't tell us because he didn't want
Speaker 1: to scare any of us. I told him I was
Speaker 1: going to catch that cat. My uncle gave me one
Speaker 1: of his old bear traps, and I took it back
Speaker 1: to the pond, and every day after school I checked
Speaker 1: on it. On the third day, I saw the trap
Speaker 1: was clamped shut, with a half inch cloth stuck in
Speaker 1: it and black hair and some meat caught inside. I
Speaker 1: showed it to the game warden who said there was
Speaker 1: no black panthers in Georgia. I thought that man was
Speaker 1: full of it. Almost got eaten by one. I couldn't
Speaker 1: believe he was a game. Warning didn't know about him.
Speaker 1: Those cats would howl behind our house at night. Sounded
Speaker 1: like teenage girls getting murdered. I'd shoot in their direction
Speaker 1: to quiet them down, and it would work for a
Speaker 1: few hours, but they always picked back up after a
Speaker 1: little while. Always wondered why I'd find little wooden crosses
Speaker 1: tied together with vines in the woods, or why we'd
Speaker 1: find rocks stacked on the banister of the back porch.
Speaker 1: It makes me wonder what else was out there running
Speaker 1: with that panther. Sometimes I'd be home alone at night
Speaker 1: and I'd hear things hitting the house. I think I
Speaker 1: was only seventeen then, and it scared me because I
Speaker 1: thought it might be that panther trying to get in well.
Speaker 1: About a year later, I was coming home with Daddy
Speaker 1: and right at the pond, the panther ran across the
Speaker 1: road with two smaller cats, all solid black. And then
Speaker 1: three months after that, Daddy asked me to get my
Speaker 1: bike and go to Uncle Daniel's for some coffee. I
Speaker 1: didn't want to ride through that branch that early because
Speaker 1: it was really foggy, but I made it to his
Speaker 1: cabin in one piece. I knocked on the door a
Speaker 1: couple of times, but he didn't answer, so I gave
Speaker 1: the door a good shove. It opened just enough for
Speaker 1: me to see inside, and even though he didn't have
Speaker 1: any lights, I saw his feet in the bed. I
Speaker 1: called out and started pushed my way in. When I
Speaker 1: finally got through, I saw his face and his shoulder
Speaker 1: were missing. I set the grass on fire. Leaving his cabin,
Speaker 1: I got back to the house screaming for my dad,
Speaker 1: telling him that Uncle Daniel was dead. And when he
Speaker 1: rushed back to his cabin, I stayed outside and looked around.
Speaker 1: I found those panther tracks outside, right below a window
Speaker 1: with the screen torn out. Years later, in nineteen eighty two,
Speaker 1: I was bowhunting at the Sansavia Management Area. I parked
Speaker 1: my truck about one hundred yards down an old logging road.
Speaker 1: I took my eight foot tree standing bow, and I
Speaker 1: set up down the road. I was sitting in my
Speaker 1: stand when I looked to my left and I saw
Speaker 1: two doughs heading my way. I waited for him. But
Speaker 1: when they got near me, they froze. They were so
Speaker 1: close I could see their eyelashes, but they weren't looking
Speaker 1: at me. They were focused on my truck. Just as
Speaker 1: I started to draw back, they bolted and I heard
Speaker 1: the most pissed off growl I'd ever heard sound through
Speaker 1: those woods, coming from near my truck. I'd never heard
Speaker 1: something so deep and angry in my life. Then I
Speaker 1: heard trees breaking logs five to eight inches snapping. I
Speaker 1: heard a growl again as it crossed the road, moving
Speaker 1: away from me, and I got the nerve to leave
Speaker 1: my stand. I held my ladder in front of me
Speaker 1: the whole way, thinking I might need to fight my
Speaker 1: way out. I made it out okay, though, but the
Speaker 1: growl scared me so bad it burned into my brain.
Speaker 1: Thanks for letting me vent. You really are a good storyteller,
Speaker 1: and he signs off, well, thank you. You're a good storyteller.
Speaker 1: You wrote it. All I did was just read it. Man,
Speaker 1: You're a good storyteller. But I sure appreciate the story, brother,
Speaker 1: Thank you. Okay, here's a story about dogs. You know.
Speaker 1: I asked for dog story while back. I've been dropping
Speaker 1: one here and there, let's read a good dog story.
Speaker 1: I think y'all are like this. Watching your chickens amuses
Speaker 1: me and it brings to mine. An experience that happened
Speaker 1: when my wife and I just moved to Bradenton, Florida.
Speaker 1: We needed a place to park and live in our
Speaker 1: converted step vand we found a newspaper ad for caretakers
Speaker 1: to watch over Honest Bob's Orange Grove while they were
Speaker 1: up north in New Jersey at the zoo where they
Speaker 1: always took their animals during the summer. The couple had
Speaker 1: two African lion cubs, a chimpanzee named Timmy, a cougar
Speaker 1: named Dusty, and several show doverman pincers, which they displayed
Speaker 1: at the zoo. It's so happened that a lot of
Speaker 1: circus and zoo people wintered in the same area with
Speaker 1: their animals. It was nothing to hear lines roar and
Speaker 1: elephants trumpeting and a cougar snarl and Timmy doing his
Speaker 1: chimp sounds and jumping around. Then there was an occasional
Speaker 1: wild board that would come into the grove rooting around
Speaker 1: early in the morning. We were happy there and life
Speaker 1: was really good. We had our jobs to go to
Speaker 1: during the day and would come home to the grove,
Speaker 1: as we called it. The couple soon took off with
Speaker 1: their menagerie of animals in tow, and we would come
Speaker 1: home and shoe the chickens out of a fenced in
Speaker 1: area that had a small flatbed trailer in it. Then
Speaker 1: we would let out our dogs out of a smaller,
Speaker 1: high fenced kennel area so they could roam and move around.
Speaker 1: As luck would have it, The one chicken that the
Speaker 1: woman cherished was a white Chinese silky, which we promptly
Speaker 1: named Phyllis, after my wife's mother, who had the same shape.
Speaker 1: One evening, we came home and we shewed the chickens
Speaker 1: out of the enclosed yard and turned the dog's loose
Speaker 1: in it. My dog was named Dog. He was a
Speaker 1: fifty pound German short hair pointer. My wife's dog was
Speaker 1: named Ben. He was a mix of New Founlin and
Speaker 1: black lab and he weighed in at eighty pounds. We
Speaker 1: came out later and found both of them lying down.
Speaker 1: They were looking guilty. Phillis, the Chinese silky chicken, was
Speaker 1: lying dead nearby. Ben had this look on his face
Speaker 1: like chicken, I don't know nothing about no chicken, all
Speaker 1: the while sitting there with the white feather sticking out
Speaker 1: of his big mouth. It was something like you'd see
Speaker 1: in an old cartoon. Dog would occasionally glance at Ben
Speaker 1: and his partner in crime, chiding him for not wiping
Speaker 1: the feathers off before we came out. We decided the
Speaker 1: prize chicken had committed suicide, as it had hidden under
Speaker 1: the trailer until we were gone and then left itself
Speaker 1: to the mercy of Beavis and butt Head. Every morning
Speaker 1: we would be up before daylight, and before heading off
Speaker 1: to work, we would put the dogs in the high
Speaker 1: fence pen. One evening, we came home to find the
Speaker 1: rooster dead in the pen with the dogs. It was
Speaker 1: stiff and it looked like it had been running around
Speaker 1: with them with no place to go. The fence was
Speaker 1: at least six feet high. We finally figured out that
Speaker 1: he had roosted in a tree above the kennel, and
Speaker 1: when he woke up, he flew to the ground and
Speaker 1: he landed and the dog pin. Now, I like chickens.
Speaker 1: I grew up around chickens, and I love eggs and
Speaker 1: fried chicken. But the way these two met their demise
Speaker 1: was a bit disturbing, even to me. Although this story
Speaker 1: has nothing to do with cryptids, I hope it gave
Speaker 1: you a life. Two chickens were indeed harmed in this story.
Speaker 1: In fact, they were terminated. I have several Bigfoot stories
Speaker 1: for you, as well as a ghost story and a
Speaker 1: demon story, and lots of UFO experiences. I look forward
Speaker 1: to relating them to you and your listeners. I was
Speaker 1: born deep in the Appalachian Mountains in southern West by God,
Speaker 1: Virginia in nineteen forty nine and had an amazing childhood.
Speaker 1: We grew up wild and free. My cousin Eddie and
Speaker 1: I ran those mountains like we owned them. We both
Speaker 1: carried large hunting knives from the age of six or
Speaker 1: seven and only came home when we got hungry. I
Speaker 1: think the Bigfoots watched over us as we explored. Oh
Speaker 1: that was a good dog story. I mean it wasn't
Speaker 1: a sweet sentimental stories. These dogs are killers, chicken killers.
Speaker 1: When we first got chickens, our dog Roxy, she snuck
Speaker 1: in the pen and she killed a couple of these.
Speaker 1: Y'all ever see these chickens with her every real skinny,
Speaker 1: tall necks and have strange looking feathers on their heads.
Speaker 1: We bought two of them, a little one and a
Speaker 1: big one. They were grown up. They were, you know,
Speaker 1: either adolescent or adult chickens, but nobody would buy them
Speaker 1: because they were so ugly. So we bought them and
Speaker 1: brought them home, and we kept them separate from the
Speaker 1: other chickens because there's always the pecking order, you know,
Speaker 1: you kind of have to slowly introduce new hens into
Speaker 1: the flock so the other hens won't pick on them.
Speaker 1: So we had them in a little I don't know,
Speaker 1: I think I made just this little wire cage with
Speaker 1: a top on it, just to keep them in the
Speaker 1: pen with the other chickens so they could get used
Speaker 1: to them. And you know, after a while you turn
Speaker 1: them loose and they fin for themselves. But little o'
Speaker 1: Roxy worked her way in that wire chicken wire get up,
Speaker 1: I did, and she killed both of those chickens, and
Speaker 1: they were laying dead in there. I knew she did it,
Speaker 1: and she was acting like she had nothing to do
Speaker 1: with it. She'd walk up and she'd see that little
Speaker 1: pen and then she'd kind of walk away and like
Speaker 1: not even look at it. It's funny how dogs will
Speaker 1: know when they're in trouble, and they'll they're just like us.
Speaker 1: They'll act like they didn't do anything. But that's what
Speaker 1: that story reminded me of. Anyway, I thought that was
Speaker 1: a good dog story. I really appreciate it. Lived in
Speaker 1: a house for forty four years in upstate New York
Speaker 1: along the Susquehanna. I think that's how you pronounce it,
Speaker 1: Susquehanna River. It's a beautiful old Victorian on the side
Speaker 1: of a hill. The front overlooks a dying small town
Speaker 1: across the river. In the back faces a hillside a
Speaker 1: thick forest. I came upon this place when I was
Speaker 1: in the market. The long winding driveway was a plus
Speaker 1: because we like our privacy. The place had already been emptied.
Speaker 1: When I spoke to the owner, whom I knew from work.
Speaker 1: He couldn't wait to sell the place, and he kept
Speaker 1: lowering the price until I couldn't say no. This was
Speaker 1: nineteen seventy nine. Later I found out why he was
Speaker 1: so anxious to sell. Whenever we'd get to talking at work,
Speaker 1: he would ask me if anything weird ever happened to
Speaker 1: me there. I finally asked him what he was referring to,
Speaker 1: and he began telling me that his wife wouldn't stay
Speaker 1: there because of the noises she heard at night. One time,
Speaker 1: he and his buddies were sitting around a campfire. They
Speaker 1: heard the noises too, and their pit bull ran scared
Speaker 1: back to the house. He finally admitted that he thought
Speaker 1: it was bigfoot, and I thought he was pulling my leg.
Speaker 1: I had lived there for decades, and it wasn't until
Speaker 1: two thousand and four that something finally happened. On a
Speaker 1: hot summer afternoon, a fire station pickup came zooming up
Speaker 1: the driveway after getting a report of a fire on
Speaker 1: our back hill. I'd been outside and I'd not seen
Speaker 1: any trace of a fire, so he drove back down.
Speaker 1: Fifteen minutes later, he came back up after driving to
Speaker 1: the opposite hill to get a better view. He said
Speaker 1: he saw a glowing ball that looked like a fire.
Speaker 1: He looked around my property, but once again we didn't
Speaker 1: see any flames. My kids and I spent a lot
Speaker 1: of time up in the woods on our back hill.
Speaker 1: One day, not far from our house, there was a
Speaker 1: stand of about thirty saplings twenty feet tall, all bent
Speaker 1: at forty five degree angles. It was clearly intentional, but
Speaker 1: we had no explanation for it. We would often hear
Speaker 1: what we thought was drumming from different spots, sometimes close
Speaker 1: and sometimes far off. One summer night, my daughter came
Speaker 1: into my bed because she said she heard something throwing
Speaker 1: stones on the driveway. In the fall of two thousand
Speaker 1: and five, my German shepherd and I were inside. I
Speaker 1: had my music blasting while I was cleaning, when out
Speaker 1: of nowhere, there was a loud bang on the side
Speaker 1: of the house. My dog barked and ran to the window.
Speaker 1: I turned down the music and I looked, but I
Speaker 1: didn't see anything. It didn't hit me until I happened
Speaker 1: U point your channel what these things could have possibly been.
Speaker 1: I started doing a little research, looked at the BFRO
Speaker 1: and found an actual sighting on my hill a half
Speaker 1: mile down the road. I'm now convinced that there was
Speaker 1: a group of Bigfoot, maybe not always present, but perhaps
Speaker 1: a stopover on their migration. I no longer live there.
Speaker 1: My wonderful kids have grown, and I've downsized to a
Speaker 1: cabin that borders the state land. Obviously, I have proven
Speaker 1: I can coexist with the wild world, though I'm glad
Speaker 1: I was oblivious to the Bigfoot activity when it was happening.
Speaker 1: All right, that was eight stories. I hope you guys
Speaker 1: enjoyed that. I'm going to put an archived story or
Speaker 1: two behind this, so there's still a little bit more
Speaker 1: to go on the podcast if you want to stick
Speaker 1: around and listen to some of these older stories that
Speaker 1: are excellent. They're just all the stories I do are
Speaker 1: really good. I don't know how you guys write them
Speaker 1: so well and have such odd experiences. It is so
Speaker 1: fascinating to me. But I give all the credit to you.
Speaker 1: Like I told a person who wrote in the story
Speaker 1: in this podcast, all I do is read them. None
Speaker 1: of this stuff happened to me. You all are sharing
Speaker 1: your stories with the rest of the world, is what
Speaker 1: you're doing, and I'm just reading them, so I sure
Speaker 1: appreciate it. Here comes a couple of stories from the vault,
Speaker 1: and then the podcast will end after I guess maybe
Speaker 1: I don't know second story. Hope you guys have a
Speaker 1: good weekend and we'll see on the next one. Thanks.
Speaker 1: Back in nineteen eighty four, my family lived on a
Speaker 1: farm on the edge of town in the heart of Kentucky.
Speaker 1: The house sat on a hilltop with a big black
Speaker 1: barn behind it and a long, narrow valley beyond that.
Speaker 1: The house set well above the roadway and even higher
Speaker 1: above the valley. The valley set even lower and was
Speaker 1: surrounded by woods. I was sixteen and feeling pretty low.
Speaker 1: My girlfriend had just called me on the phone and
Speaker 1: broken up with me after two months. She didn't even
Speaker 1: give me a reason. It was February, but the weather
Speaker 1: was beginning to show signs of spring after a long winter.
Speaker 1: The temperature was somewhat in the mid forties and there
Speaker 1: were only a few patches of snow here and there.
Speaker 1: I needed to get away and think, so I headed
Speaker 1: for my favorite spot, and for me, that was the woods.
Speaker 1: I spent a great deal of time there, and sometimes
Speaker 1: with friends, but usually alone. My father had left my
Speaker 1: mother when I was young, so the male role models
Speaker 1: in my life were my two uncles. They taught me
Speaker 1: to hunt and fish, and to appreciate the beauty and
Speaker 1: wonder of nature. In those woods, there were a couple
Speaker 1: of great guys. Looking back, I really missed those times
Speaker 1: that we spent together. I walked down to the bottom
Speaker 1: of the valley, like I generally did, I was deep
Speaker 1: in thought about why my girl would break up with me,
Speaker 1: and I wasn't paying attention when I heard I heard
Speaker 1: a thumping sound. It was something solid hitting the grass
Speaker 1: covered ground. I looked around and saw a rock about
Speaker 1: twenty feet from me rolling uphill. I figured it was
Speaker 1: either my sister or my brother playing a trick on me,
Speaker 1: so I turned to look back the way I came,
Speaker 1: expecting to see one of them, and I scanned around looking,
Speaker 1: but they weren't there. As I turned to my left,
Speaker 1: still looking for my siblings, I saw a twenty foot
Speaker 1: patch of snow with four human shaped footprints in it.
Speaker 1: It was a little unnerving to see the footprints because first,
Speaker 1: whoever made these prints wasn't wearing shoes. It wasn't freezing out,
Speaker 1: but it was still cold. Walking in the snow would
Speaker 1: have made it feel even colder. Second, these prints were huge.
Speaker 1: I walked over and compared them to my boot. They
Speaker 1: were nearly twice as long as my foot and much wider,
Speaker 1: and the stride was a lot longer than I could
Speaker 1: have made. I was still examining the footprints when I
Speaker 1: heard another rock hit the ground and I turned in
Speaker 1: the direction of the sound, and I saw the rock
Speaker 1: twenty feet away rolling downhill. This time it was bigger
Speaker 1: than the first, roughly the size of my fist, and
Speaker 1: I knew immediately it couldn't have been my brother or sister.
Speaker 1: I was far older and stronger than them, and I
Speaker 1: doubt I could have thrown it from any possible hiding spots.
Speaker 1: I then thought it might have been one of my
Speaker 1: friends who lived close, and I knew Tommy was out
Speaker 1: of town visiting relatives, and Scotty had been in bed
Speaker 1: all week with a bad case of the flu. They
Speaker 1: were the only ones who ever came over, so I
Speaker 1: looked around again. Who was throwing rocks at me? The
Speaker 1: tracks probably should have sent me running home, but I
Speaker 1: honestly thought someone was playing a prank on me. My
Speaker 1: uncles taught me that tracks made in the snow will
Speaker 1: expand when they melt, so I figured it was just
Speaker 1: a joke. I walked forward with a lot of confidence.
Speaker 1: You better knock it off. I'm throw rocks too, I said.
Speaker 1: Another rock was chucked at me. This time I saw
Speaker 1: it in mid flight, so I knew it was coming
Speaker 1: from the left corner of the woods, near the property line.
Speaker 1: It was two hundred feet from me, and I thought,
Speaker 1: whoever was throwing these rocks must have a pretty good arm.
Speaker 1: Another rock landed ten feet to my right. I was
Speaker 1: getting angry now, so I walked over and picked it
Speaker 1: up before it stopped rolling. It was a little bigger
Speaker 1: than I would have normally wanted to throw, but in
Speaker 1: my frustration, I threw it back. Then I screamed an
Speaker 1: insult at whoever this was for good measure. My throw
Speaker 1: was way off the mark. It hit the ground well
Speaker 1: short of the tree line, so I looked around for
Speaker 1: another rock to throw. I found a few in the
Speaker 1: grass between the patches of snow, so I picked one
Speaker 1: up that fit my hand better. This time. It hit
Speaker 1: a tree just inside the woodline. Then I saw a
Speaker 1: movement eighty feet to my left in the nearest section
Speaker 1: of trees. It was a lot closer to me than
Speaker 1: where the rocks were coming from. I only got a glimpse,
Speaker 1: maybe four or five seconds at most. Most of it
Speaker 1: was obscured by the thick brush and trees. I saw
Speaker 1: a dark upper portion of a massive right shoulder blade
Speaker 1: and a huge moving arm about seven feet off the ground. Also,
Speaker 1: I saw what looked like thick legs as it ran
Speaker 1: behind a tree. It was completely covered in reddish hair
Speaker 1: that bounced as it disappeared into the trees. I was
Speaker 1: nearly awe struck. Its movements were so graceful and fluid.
Speaker 1: It was completely different from how a deer or a
Speaker 1: human would move. Now I knew immediately it wasn't a
Speaker 1: bear or a cougar. It was too large. Both bears
Speaker 1: and cougars are extremely rare in Kentucky, and neither of
Speaker 1: them throw rocks. I barely had time to register what
Speaker 1: I was seeing when another rock landed five feet from me.
Speaker 1: It came from the same direction as the others. Then
Speaker 1: I heard heavy footfalls in the woods from that same direction.
Speaker 1: There were definitely more than one of them. To say
Speaker 1: I wasn't terrified would be a bold faced lie. I
Speaker 1: knew I had to get out of there. I was
Speaker 1: alone and unarmed. The nearest house was over half a
Speaker 1: mile away, on the other side of the valley and
Speaker 1: flanked by thick trees. I knew the elderly couple who
Speaker 1: lived there. They were nice people, but they wouldn't have
Speaker 1: been able to hear me even if they were outside,
Speaker 1: which they rarely were. My house was over three quarters
Speaker 1: of a mile away, and my mom and siblings had
Speaker 1: been inside watching TV when I left. At that moment,
Speaker 1: I forgot all about my girlfriend. Survival was my priority.
Speaker 1: I wanted to run, but I remembered what my uncles
Speaker 1: had told me about predators. Never turn your back on them,
Speaker 1: and running will kick in their instinct to chase. Fear
Speaker 1: turned into anger as I picked up as many rocks
Speaker 1: as I could find and started throwing them back towards
Speaker 1: the woods as fast as I could. I at least
Speaker 1: a string of obscenities and foul language as I did,
Speaker 1: all the while moving backwards a few dozen paces at
Speaker 1: a time. Years later, during my time in the military,
Speaker 1: I learned to call that a tactical retreat. More rocks
Speaker 1: are being thrown back at me now, and from two
Speaker 1: different directions. I switched targets back and forth as I
Speaker 1: slowly made my way back down the valley. Locked in
Speaker 1: combat with an unseen enemy, I was out numbered and
Speaker 1: out gun but I kept throwing and moving and cussing
Speaker 1: and cursing. I doubted the cussing helped me, but it
Speaker 1: made me feel braver. It was probably only five minutes
Speaker 1: before I felt the hill under my feet, but it
Speaker 1: felt like hours. That meant I was closer to the
Speaker 1: relative safety of home, and by now those creatures had
Speaker 1: stopped throwing rocks at me. My accuracy had dropped off
Speaker 1: dramatically by then, anyway, and I scanned the woods once
Speaker 1: more for movement and listened for sounds. I didn't see
Speaker 1: or hear anything, and exhausted and sweating like i'd run
Speaker 1: a marathon, I took off my coat and stood there
Speaker 1: for another five minutes before I felt it was safe
Speaker 1: enough to turn and high tailor at home. I didn't
Speaker 1: tell my mother and siblings what had happened. I didn't
Speaker 1: want to scare them. The next day I told one
Speaker 1: of my uncles, who brought his shotgun over and slipped
Speaker 1: down into the valley with me to retrace my steps.
Speaker 1: I showed him the tracks in the snow. There were
Speaker 1: huge gouges in the hard dirt where the rocks and landed.
Speaker 1: We walked into the woodline where I had seen the
Speaker 1: one running. That's where I compared the s and height
Speaker 1: of the trees to the spot where I saw the
Speaker 1: shoulder and the arm. This thing must have been massive,
Speaker 1: but we didn't find any tracks there. We left the area,
Speaker 1: but not before I noticed that my uncle was being
Speaker 1: unusually quiet. After we got back to the house and
Speaker 1: well away from my mom, he told me that he'd
Speaker 1: had a strange experience there many years before. My eldest
Speaker 1: uncle served in Vietnam. He's a quiet man who rarely
Speaker 1: shows his emotions or gets upset. When he came home
Speaker 1: from the war, he couldn't wait to get back into
Speaker 1: his beloved woods where he could hunt and fish. And
Speaker 1: then he finally got the chance. It was a bittersweet experience.
Speaker 1: It isn't an easy transition from life of daily combat
Speaker 1: back to a peaceful civilian existence. The woods of Kentucky
Speaker 1: looked nothing like the jungles of Southeast Asia, but the
Speaker 1: impressive feeling of the dense vegetation and the limited visibility
Speaker 1: are similar. It took him quite a while to get
Speaker 1: over the nagging fear of someone waiting behind every bush
Speaker 1: to kill him. Slowly he worked his way back to
Speaker 1: his favorite fishing spots, and once he was comfortable, he
Speaker 1: began to hunt again. One day, he was out hunting
Speaker 1: squirrels alone with his twenty two rifle. He was also
Speaker 1: carrying a revolver in his hip holster. He walked for
Speaker 1: hours and saw a few squirrels that they were too
Speaker 1: small to trouble with. When he decided to take a break,
Speaker 1: he sat down under a large tree on top of
Speaker 1: a heavily wooded ridgeline. From there, he had a clear
Speaker 1: view down into the nearby holler. He'd been sitting there
Speaker 1: for about ten minutes when he saw movement below. He
Speaker 1: only saw bushes moving, but he suspected it was a deer.
Speaker 1: It was too early for deer season, but knowing that
Speaker 1: paths might help him decide where to build a stand later,
Speaker 1: he decided to go down check it out. He got
Speaker 1: up and slowly made his way down to the holler.
Speaker 1: The trees and underbrush made it impossible to get a
Speaker 1: clear view of whatever was moving around, but he found
Speaker 1: a little path that had made Whatever it was, he
Speaker 1: knew it wasn't a deer. It looked almost like a
Speaker 1: small bulldozer had made the path, like six deer had
Speaker 1: walked inside by side. He never seen them move that way,
Speaker 1: and plus the vegetation look like it had been smashed
Speaker 1: aside and pulled out of the way. He didn't find
Speaker 1: any tracks, but it was clear that something heavy had
Speaker 1: walked through here. He told me he should have left
Speaker 1: right then and there, but he was young, and curiosity
Speaker 1: got the better of him. He moved forward, pondering what
Speaker 1: kind of critter could make such a path. Was it
Speaker 1: a bear? No, Black bears aren't much whiter than a deer. Besides,
Speaker 1: he'd never seen a bear in this part of the state.
Speaker 1: Cougars and mountain lions came to mind, but he quickly
Speaker 1: ruled them out as well. Suddenly there was a loud crash,
Speaker 1: like a tree breaking under a great strain, and it
Speaker 1: echoed across the holler. Then the woods grew early quiet.
Speaker 1: There were no birds chirping, no bees buzzing, no squirrels
Speaker 1: or any other animals making any sounds. Alarmed, and reverting
Speaker 1: back to his military training, he quickly veered off the
Speaker 1: trail and hid down among the tall grass on his belly.
Speaker 1: He lay there in the silence for several minutes, wondering
Speaker 1: if his mind was playing tricks on him. He was
Speaker 1: about to move away when he heard a sound that
Speaker 1: I was familiar with. First there was a thump several
Speaker 1: yards away, and then another one a little closer. He
Speaker 1: looked up over the tall grass and he saw a
Speaker 1: rock coming in his direction. He crawled away, hoping that
Speaker 1: that would throw his attacker off his position, and it
Speaker 1: almost worked. The next rock landed farther away, but it
Speaker 1: was adjusting for his movement. He decided that this thing
Speaker 1: must be a human. He couldn't think of anything else
Speaker 1: in Kentucky that could throw rocks. With his rifle and pistol,
Speaker 1: my uncle felt reasonably assured that he was safe, so
Speaker 1: he stood up and he called out. He doesn't remember
Speaker 1: what he said, but it was something to the effect
Speaker 1: of asking them not to throw rocks at him, but
Speaker 1: no one answered. He then told them that he was armed,
Speaker 1: and he expected to get an answer, or at least
Speaker 1: hear them leave, but he got neither. He began to
Speaker 1: make his way out of there. Like me, He walked backwards,
Speaker 1: with his eyes skinning for threats. He moved quickly. It
Speaker 1: was too late to worry about being quiet. Whatever it was,
Speaker 1: it knew exactly where he was. Another rock hit the
Speaker 1: ground his feet and bounced into his right leg. It
Speaker 1: didn't hurt him, but it startled him greatly. He didn't
Speaker 1: lose his cool. He pulled his rifle up and scanned
Speaker 1: the area. In a quick three sixty. He was still
Speaker 1: convinced it was people, so he threatened to shoot if
Speaker 1: another rock was thrown. Well, something moved in the bushes,
Speaker 1: but he couldn't see what it was. It had to
Speaker 1: be a human. He wasn't prepared to accept any other alternative.
Speaker 1: He kept backing up and moving his head from side
Speaker 1: to side, and then an incredibly loud growl broke the
Speaker 1: silence and reverberated through his chest. He said he'd never
Speaker 1: heard anything like it before or since. At this point,
Speaker 1: my uncle knew two things. It was very close and
Speaker 1: it wasn't. Human instinct kicked in. He fired into the bushes,
Speaker 1: shifted position, chambered another round, and then he fired again.
Speaker 1: He doubted he hid anything, but he was hoping to
Speaker 1: scare it off. And then another rock flew at him.
Speaker 1: It landed a little further away than the last, but
Speaker 1: that was enough. He turned and bolted for a nearby
Speaker 1: grove of trees. It didn't offer much shelter, but it
Speaker 1: was better than nothing. He pulled at his pistol and
Speaker 1: sat there for maybe an hour, waiting for another confrontation.
Speaker 1: His nerves were on edge. He's not a religious man,
Speaker 1: but he said. He did a lot of praying that day,
Speaker 1: but nothing more happened, and soon the sounds of the
Speaker 1: woods were turned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened.
Speaker 1: He was feeling foolish, and he made his way back
Speaker 1: to the ridge and looked over the area one more time.
Speaker 1: He didn't see anything unusual and gladly went home empty handed.
Speaker 1: He didn't tell anyone else about his experience for a
Speaker 1: long time. He didn't think anyone would believe him. He
Speaker 1: told his brother later, he told me. In a way,
Speaker 1: my uncle and I bonded that day. We both had
Speaker 1: a strange experience that we couldn't explain. At least, he'd
Speaker 1: been armed with throwing rocks back at something that's throwing
Speaker 1: rocks at me. Probably wasn't very smart, but it seemed
Speaker 1: like my best option at the time. Fortunately, neither of
Speaker 1: us has seen anything since. Now that I'm older and
Speaker 1: perhaps a bit wiser, I don't think that whatever was
Speaker 1: throwing rocks at us was trying to hurt us. I
Speaker 1: think it was warning us to get out of the area.
Speaker 1: At least that's my two cents worth. You can believe
Speaker 1: whatever you choose to believe. In the summer of nineteen
Speaker 1: ninety four, my husband and I bought a brand new
Speaker 1: home and one of the many housing subdivisions being built
Speaker 1: in the Sacramento Valley during the nineteen nineties housing boom.
Speaker 1: The area had originally been mostly farmland and floodplains, and
Speaker 1: there were dozens of subdivisions being built, and each subdivision
Speaker 1: displayed beautifully decorated home plans. The homes were much more
Speaker 1: affordable then, so we applied for a first time buyer
Speaker 1: loan and crossed our fingers. The loan process seemed to
Speaker 1: take forever, but when we were approved, we got to
Speaker 1: pick out our very own flooring style and upgraded the
Speaker 1: kitchen appliances, which was so nice since the apartment we
Speaker 1: lived in had no dishwasher or self cleaning oven. We
Speaker 1: moved our family, which consisted of the two of us,
Speaker 1: our four year old son, and our future baby girl,
Speaker 1: who was due in mid August, and we were happy
Speaker 1: to have accomplished so much in a relatively short amount
Speaker 1: of time. The house was on a dead end street
Speaker 1: since the owner of the property behind the subdivision did
Speaker 1: not want to sell any of his property, which would
Speaker 1: have allowed for the street to go through and join
Speaker 1: up with other subdivisions. There was still a lot of
Speaker 1: open land and homes in various stages of construction, and
Speaker 1: our neighbors had kids about the same age as our son,
Speaker 1: and he made new friends and all the kids played
Speaker 1: on the street since there was no traffic during the
Speaker 1: day while most people were at work. Unfortunately, my husband
Speaker 1: was not able to find a job in Sacramento right away,
Speaker 1: so he would stay with his mom back in the
Speaker 1: Bay Area during the work week, and then he would
Speaker 1: drive back to the valley to check in on us
Speaker 1: so we could do our grocery shopping and other errands.
Speaker 1: At that time, we only had one car and I
Speaker 1: was left stranded until he was back from the Bay Area.
Speaker 1: It was a long commute, but my husband was so
Speaker 1: happy to buy us the house that he was willing
Speaker 1: to commute with the hope that he would find a
Speaker 1: job in the valley soon enough and stop commuting. It
Speaker 1: was a whole year before he was hired at one
Speaker 1: of the local auto body shops. When our daughter was born,
Speaker 1: my husband was able to take a week off from
Speaker 1: work to be with us and enjoy our new baby girl,
Speaker 1: and then he went back to work and to his
Speaker 1: commute he would get up at three am and make
Speaker 1: his coffee and get his overnight bag and leave at
Speaker 1: three thirty am so he could be at work by
Speaker 1: six thirty am. Back then, he was the bread winner,
Speaker 1: so we really needed him to keep that job, even
Speaker 1: if it was one hundred miles away. I would normally
Speaker 1: get up with him and spend a few minutes with
Speaker 1: him before he would be off. I would go back
Speaker 1: to bed and try to sleep before the baby would
Speaker 1: wake up to nurse. Around five thirty am. I would
Speaker 1: feed her in bed and lay her between me and
Speaker 1: our four year old son, and the three of us
Speaker 1: would snuggle and sleep until around eight thirty before we
Speaker 1: started our day. We were so spoiled. On this Monday,
Speaker 1: after he left for his commute, I felt uneasy and
Speaker 1: I felt scared, but I didn't know why. I I
Speaker 1: had to go back to our bedroom and lay down,
Speaker 1: thinking that the baby would be up soon enough to nurse,
Speaker 1: so maybe it would be better just to lay back down.
Speaker 1: I fell asleep and I had a horrible nightmare. I
Speaker 1: dreamt that our sun was missing, and that we were
Speaker 1: running to different streets looking for him and calling his name.
Speaker 1: I woke up suddenly and I was relieved that it
Speaker 1: was just a horrible dream. And my boy was fast
Speaker 1: asleep next to me, and the baby was still in
Speaker 1: her bacinet next to the bed. I turned over on
Speaker 1: my side facing the bacinet, and I saw a bright
Speaker 1: light coming in between the window blinds, and thinking out loud,
Speaker 1: I said, is it morning already? The light was coming
Speaker 1: in between the blinds and it was so bright, but
Speaker 1: the rest of the room looked dark. There was a
Speaker 1: bright light on the wall next to the window, and
Speaker 1: I looked up to see where the light was coming from,
Speaker 1: and to my horror, just above the bacinet was an
Speaker 1: alien gray's face. It was just the head, no upper body, legs,
Speaker 1: or arms. The head was dark in color, very round,
Speaker 1: ending in a pointed chin, and there were small slits
Speaker 1: for his mouth and nostrils. But the eyes, the eyes
Speaker 1: were large and almond shape and very shiny black, and
Speaker 1: it had some sort of glass lamp on the top
Speaker 1: of its head. The light on the wall was coming
Speaker 1: from this lamp. The being was looking down at the
Speaker 1: baby in the basinette. Oh my god, I couldn't speak.
Speaker 1: My heart started pounding so hard that I started trembling uncontrollably.
Speaker 1: It saw me, and it scowled at me when it
Speaker 1: realized I was looking at it, and it moved towards me,
Speaker 1: and I started screaming and swinging my arms and kicking,
Speaker 1: and I remember that I set out loud. Oh my god,
Speaker 1: I'm going to lose my mind. I felt that I
Speaker 1: could not take the fact that this creature was there,
Speaker 1: and it was just there in the room above my
Speaker 1: baby bassinette in the house. It floated from its original
Speaker 1: position above the basinette to just above my face, and
Speaker 1: I remember seeing this light blue fog build up in
Speaker 1: front of my face, and then, in a dreamlike manner,
Speaker 1: I remember a sound like pigeons mate, like a cooing sound.
Speaker 1: I remember feeling that whoever was talking to me was
Speaker 1: stern and was telling me that it was for our
Speaker 1: own good. When I woke up again, it was still
Speaker 1: dark out, but it was around six am, and the
Speaker 1: blankets were perfectly made around the bed like nothing had happened,
Speaker 1: and everything felt still. My son was asleep next to me,
Speaker 1: and the baby was in her basinette, and I got
Speaker 1: out of bed and turned all the lights on in
Speaker 1: the room and the rest of the house, and I
Speaker 1: checked all the rooms in the house, and I checked
Speaker 1: the locks on the front door and the lock in
Speaker 1: the backyard sliding glass door, and everything was just like
Speaker 1: I had left it. After my husband had left for work,
Speaker 1: I decided to stay up and just start my day.
Speaker 1: In fact, I got in the shower, even though that
Speaker 1: was not my usual time to shower. When I was
Speaker 1: washing my hair, there was a sore spot on the
Speaker 1: top of my head. There was no blood, no bump,
Speaker 1: just very sore. I got dressed and I went to
Speaker 1: the kitchen and I had some coffee. While having my coffee,
Speaker 1: I was trying to make sense of all those events. Now.
Speaker 1: I remember the nightmare that I had woken up from
Speaker 1: and how relieved I had felt that it had just
Speaker 1: been a bad dream. But then that thing was there,
Speaker 1: and I couldn't decide if it had been another bad
Speaker 1: dream or if that second part was real. It didn't
Speaker 1: make sense. But how can a bad dream as scary
Speaker 1: as that could be, was still making me afraid. My
Speaker 1: son was up at nine am, and I kept checking
Speaker 1: in on the baby, and she kept sleeping. She should
Speaker 1: have been and up once to nurse, but no she wasn't.
Speaker 1: And I called my sister, and I told her about
Speaker 1: my weird dream, and I started crying because it seemed
Speaker 1: like it had been real, but I kept thinking that
Speaker 1: it couldn't be real. I checked on the baby and
Speaker 1: she had no fever, no rash, but she did not
Speaker 1: wake up to nurse until two pm that afternoon, and
Speaker 1: by then I was sore and engorged with milk. As
Speaker 1: the day progressed, I became anxious, and before it was evening,
Speaker 1: I called my sister asking if she could come over
Speaker 1: and pick us up. I didn't want to be there
Speaker 1: alone with the kids. When it was night again, she
Speaker 1: came over and took us to her apartment. My sister
Speaker 1: wasn't sure what to make of this whole thing. I
Speaker 1: was just grateful that I didn't have to be alone
Speaker 1: in the house. We stayed in her kids room that night,
Speaker 1: and I remember feeling very scared because I didn't know
Speaker 1: if it would happen again. But I put both kids
Speaker 1: in me under the twin bed we were supposed to
Speaker 1: sleep on, but we slept under the bed. I called
Speaker 1: my husband and told him about my bad dream, but
Speaker 1: he thought it was just stressed from being left alone
Speaker 1: so many nights and taking care of the kids in
Speaker 1: the house. My husband picked us up from my sister's
Speaker 1: place and drove us back to our house. That evening,
Speaker 1: I tried to go about my normal routine, making dinner,
Speaker 1: bathing the kids before bed, and watching a movie. And
Speaker 1: then it was time for me and my husband to
Speaker 1: go to bed, so I put both kids in the
Speaker 1: bed between us, and I put a large toy sword
Speaker 1: next to me in the bed. I was terrified that
Speaker 1: it would come back, that I would wake up, and
Speaker 1: that face would be there looking back at me when
Speaker 1: I opened my eyes. I knew there was nothing I
Speaker 1: could do to protect us, and that made me more
Speaker 1: frightened than anything. My husband continued to commute for another
Speaker 1: six months, so I was still alone in the evening,
Speaker 1: and that was the worst part. For weeks, every night,
Speaker 1: I would stay up just until I could see daylight
Speaker 1: before I felt safe to fall asleep. I would leave
Speaker 1: the TV on in the bedroom, lights on, and fight
Speaker 1: sleep until I would see the early sunlight peek through
Speaker 1: the windows. I didn't feel safe until around early spring,
Speaker 1: when the morning light starts just a bit earlier each morning.
Speaker 1: I went on like this for three years, every winter,
Speaker 1: and for years I was terrified to look out any
Speaker 1: window in the evenings. I would close all the blinds
Speaker 1: in the house at night and leave some lights on
Speaker 1: before going to bed. My husband would just tell me
Speaker 1: that it had been a bad dream, and after a
Speaker 1: few months he didn't like me to talk about it.
Speaker 1: My daughter was only three months old when this happened.
Speaker 1: She doesn't have any strange scars or ill effects from
Speaker 1: the experience. I no longer fear the winter nights, but
Speaker 1: I know that it was not a dream. Regarding the
Speaker 1: description of the creature I saw, in the book titled
Speaker 1: Operation Trojan Horse, there is a description of an et
Speaker 1: that has been described wearing some type of light attached
Speaker 1: to or on the top of its head,