Speaker 1: All right, here's an odd story from a man who
I think this occurs in the United Kingdom. I don't think,
he says. Maybe he does somewhere in the story, and
you'll hear it if he does. But the way he writes,
and the way he describes some of these places and
the vernacular he uses, I think this guy is from
the UK. But let's read us. This is not a
bigfoot story. But this is really good, he writes. My
first strange encounter happened in two thousand and seven. There
were no leaves on the trees. That is the only
thing I can recall determining the time of year. We
lived four miles away from the local town in the countryside,
on the bank of a large reservoir. From the high
spot where our house sat, we had a fantastic view
of the rolling countryside. We own twenty two acres that
included two large lakes that had excavated and acres of
trees I planted. I was blessed to live in such
a beautiful and imposing home. The house itself is a
converted L shaped barn. My wife and I lived in
the two story section, and her parents lived in the
smaller l that was only one story. It was like
two separate properties, but we could walk straight through each
other's homes. On the night in question, I was sitting
with my feet up on the setti watching TV. It
was dark outside, and I imagine it must have been
getting close to bedtime. I prefer to go to bed
early and get up early. The next morning, my wife
came walking into the lounge and told me that she
was going to let the dog out, but there was
someone standing in the back garden. I asked what they
were doing, and she said nothing, they're just standing there. Well,
the hair stood up all over my body, and I
was engulfed in fear. I'm certainly not the cowardly type,
but I had the sudden feeling that something really bad
was about to happen. My wife prompted me to get
up and come with her to have a look. So
I followed her through the house to her parents' side.
She took me to her dad's bedroom because it was
on the farthest side and closest to the back garden.
The light was off, so I looked out the window
and allowed my eyes to adjust to the garden, which
obviously I knew well. The part I was looking at
was only thirty feet across to where our garden meets
the neighbor's pasture land. There was a three bar wooden
fence with barbed wire across the top, and we had
planted some fruit trees there. After letting my eyes adjust
and looking around to identify the objects I knew were there,
I said I can't see anybody. My wife said, now
look through this, and she had my night vision scope.
By now her dad was standing next to her and
looking quite concerned, and I took the scope from her
and I returned to the window to look. I instantly
saw the likeness of a person standing in the neighbor's field,
but right next to the fence. My wife asked if
it could be one of my friends messing about to
scare us, and I replied, who the hell would stand there?
On the off chance that you might look outside with
a night vision scope, I just died the focus on
the scope and I looked again, and this time seeing
something that filled me with terror. It looked like an
extremely tall man with a heavily woven cloak pulled over
and around him. The cloak or shroud, whatever it was,
was coarsely woven twill. The strands were as thick as
jumper wool and tightly woven, and it looked heavy, so
much so that I guessed I would have had a
difficult time lifting it if it were on the floor.
It was only thirty feet away, so with the scope
zoomed in, it was the equivalent of being right next
to it. I could see the waving and the shroud
as it came below the waist and flared out. The
arms were to the side and the hands weren't visible.
In fact, I couldn't see anything of this being outside
of the intimidating figure with its head leaning forward and
the cloak pulled over it. You've probably figured out by
now that what I'm describing is the grim Reaper, and
it was terrifying. It wasn't carrying a scythe as depicted
in so many stories. Judging by the fence it was
standing next to, I determined it to be nine feet
tall and as much as three and a half eat wide.
I opened the window slowly and quietly looked again. I'm
not sure if I did that to get a better look,
or if I needed confirmation that what I was seeing
wasn't a reflection in the glass. When I took the
scope away, I couldn't see it, but when I looked
through the scope again, it was there. Through the scope,
I could also see the grain in the wood on
the fence rails, the cobwebs on the fence, and the
long strands of grass in front of its cloak. There
was truly some kind of being in front of me,
but there was totally no explanation for what it might
be in our world, our knowledge of what exists among us,
be it in other dimensions or whatever else. I don't
think could ever explain this. I later asked my wife
what she had been doing standing in her dad's bedroom
window with my night scope. She said that the dog
won it to go outside, but she had heard foxes
barking at the back of the house. She thought that
she would have a look around the garden before letting
the dog out, to make sure there were no foxes.
She had a little pug that she treasured and didn't
want the foxes to attack it. I know this is
a far fetched story, but it is what I and
my wife and her dad all witnessed. Her mother refused
to look. She said it was a bad omen Sadly,
the truth of that statement came to pass when my
wife passed away in twenty and thirteen after a four
year battle with ovarian cancer. She was only forty six
years old. We had been married for nineteen years and
five days. She left me with the most beautiful, blond,
four year old son any parent would be proud of.
How could such a mythical being have been in my
back garden, as real as the apple trees, the fence
and the grass, and as true as the myths. I
lost my wife and my son lost his mother. I
know neither you nor anyone else can give me answers,
but at least you can listen to my story, a
nightmare really, and be sure that not all things are
a myth. I have a second, unexplained story that happened
in twenty eighteen. I had moved from my lovely home
in the country to a home in a quiet village
only ten miles away from my original home and encounter.
I had fallen asleep on the city and awoke in
the early morning hours. The TV had timed out and
it was turned off, and I just lay there, fully
dressed and regaining enough energy to get up and go
upstairs to bed. There was a street light at the
end of the drive, and with all the curtains open
in the lounge, there was an ambient light coming through
that allowed me to see reasonably well. I had been
lying there for a good ten minutes and was awake
enough now to go upstairs when I noticed something coming
around the corner from the other part of the l
shaped lounge. I would not call it smoke or a mist.
The only way I can explain it would be to
call it a cloud. It was just like in the
Predator film. There were loads of pixels, and with each
pixel being an inch square in size. Although I could
see straight through them, they distorted whatever they passed in
front of. This cloud was two feet deep, three feet
wide and a good six feet long. It was just
floating under the ceiling, and it passed above me and
went through the wall behind me. It must have been
another half hour before I picked up enough courage to
get up from the couch and go to bed. I
had never heard of this before until I listened into
a Sasquatch story where someone had explained this same strange
phenomenon at a time when they had seen a bigfoot.
I was excited that someone else had also witnessed this.
Thank you if you find time to read my story.
All our best from far away in Staffordshire. Yep, see,
I was right. I could tell that was from the UK.
And first, let me say my condolences to you. It's
been a while since your wife passed away, but I'm
so sorry that you lost your wife. And I have
to say, in my humble opinion, this you're losing your
wife had nothing to do with this grim reaper figure
that you saw out by your garden. I'm so sure
of that. There may be entities floating around and moving around,
and I don't know the explanation for them, strange entities, ghosts, apparitions.
Maybe they're demonic, maybe they're not. Maybe it's something God created.
It just moves around in the spirit realm. I don't know,
but this was such an interesting story. Thank you Ian
is the author. Thank you Ian for sending this. We
really enjoyed it. And I hope your son's doing well
and your family has adjusted to missing your wife and
your son's mother, and that life picks up and gains
good meaning for you and you can move on. I'm
sure that's what your wife would want you to do.
At any rate, I'm probably stepping out of bounds talking
about any of this, but I just, you know, it
just breaks my heart when I hear stories like this.
But at any rate, it was a great story, and
thank you for sending it. I grew up in the
mountains of central Washington around the four thousand foot level.
Our neighbors were twenty miles away and in a different
zip code and a different area code. The view from
our front deck was nothing but tree covered mountains and
huge racks walls. We were as remote as you can get.
My father was the caretaker of an old mine that
had been shut down in the nineteen sixties. We lived
there rent free, as long as the family took care
of the property and the buildings on the property. My
father had worked at that mine since before he met
my mother, so he was extremely knowledgeable of the surrounding areas.
When I got old enough to join him on some
of his excursions into the woods, he was quick to
teach me that for a number of reasons, we didn't
go out alone at night. We always carried a rifle.
We hunted every year and fished almost every day, and
shoveled a ton of snow during the winter. We normally
got seven or eight feet of snow each year. Our
road was closed in the winter, and that meant we
had the snow mobile twenty miles to the nearest plowed
road when we needed to go anywhere. I wasn't kidding
when I said we were remote. When I was six
years old, I heard a howl that still rings in
my head today. I didn't know what it was until
recently when I heard something close to it on a
TV show. Back then, Pops would say it was only
a bear, not to worry about it. I had no
reason not to believe my dad. He also told me
it was a bear that often watched me through the
window at night, but it never bothered anyone. I was
proud as ever when my parents would let me stay
up until ten PM. I felt like a man, even
though I was only twelve years old. Oh staying up
at night. I remember that one night, while I was
watching TV satellite at the time, I looked into the
kitchen and saw a large black arm reach through the
window and grab an apple and an orange my mom
had left on the counter. I was too scared to
even move, much less say anything. The next morning. When
I told my dad, he just said, yeah, bears will
do that from time to time. When I was sixteen,
we finally got a power source at the camp that
changed our world. We were able to continue working until
much later at night. Those lights allowed us to see
well into the night, and on occasion we would see
something tall, black and bipedal walking through the camp or
between the buildings. It scared my mom so much that
we moved a few months later. Dad stayed up there
and completed his mission. Obviously, I grew up knowing about
sisquatch and the power they possess. For instance, a grizzly
bear ran through our camp one evening. It didn't seem
to care if we were there or not. It just
kept looking behind it as if something was chasing it.
We heard sisquatch fight each other for other territory too.
We've even seen them do some miraculous physical things that
even machinery couldn't do. When I was in the military,
I shared these stories and from there I was ushered
into another department of the government. That department led me
to another one that actually studies the sasquat species exclusively.
I'm here to tell you that the DNR, Forest Service
and BLM all know about these things, they just don't
confirm it publicly. But these departments have hair, scat, body parts,
and supposedly whole bodies from various places where they've been studied.
I've never seen any of the bodies, but I would
have loved to. In twenty fourteen, after twenty two years,
I retired from government service. I've since lost contact with
all the individuals from the group, so I have no
idea what the scuttle butt is around the coffee pot
these days. I do know that certain wildlife area documents,
especially the newer ones, include wording about keeping areas untouched
for these bipedal beings. It started showing up in the
mid nineteen nineties. The problem is, as you have to
dig pretty deep and have a lot of patience to
get through these extremely boring book link documents to find it.
And that's by design. And that's the end of his email.
And that's pretty interesting. I mean, he had encounters with
bigfoot when he was young, only to get out of
the military after telling people about his experiences, and they
moved him into a government agency that studies these things.
But I find it odd that if he's in the
group that studies these things, I wonder why he never
saw a body or even more evidence, apparently he was
on the peripheral or maybe in some clerical position with
one of these agencies. I don't know. I'm just guessing,
but from these people's letters, you have to guess at
these things if they're not very specific. So that's my guess.
What's your guess. I don't know. I've heard of these
government agencies knowing about these things. Will Jevining even hints
at that in some of his podcasts, and so does
Mark Knuble and Larry Porch and Shelley Reid and their
their podcasts, and I I'm gonna put a little ad
at the end of this video for their podcast. You
guys need to go check out the Sawdust Beast channel.
I'll put a link in the description. If you're into
this bigfoot thing, you will love these guys. They're happy,
super nice guys. They're they're just I've hung around them
some and going on trips with them, and I love
being around Mark Nouble, Larry Porch and their crew. They're
just good, good people. Okay, this isn't a necessarily a
bigfoot story. But it is a good story. It's a
hunting story. Everybody likes a good hunting story, and I
think you guys are going to find this captivating, the
writer says. During trapping season in nineteen eighty four, my
friend and I went up to his family's cabin on
the musket tattootuck muskut muskeet tattoo River to set our
trap lines. Okay, everybody make sure and make a comment
and correct me on that pronunciation, because I just mangled
it and blew it. But I can barely read that work.
That day, a mangy blue tick hound kept following us
around while we were setting our traps. At daybreak. The
next morning, we were up and stoking up the fire
and getting ready to check our traps. A very thick
fog blanketed the area. While we were sitting around the campfire,
a voice that seemed to be coming from a well
called out, have y'all seen my coon dog around here? Well?
We nearly jumped out of our skins. We were at
a remote camp, yet the hollow voice sounded like it
was right beside us. I slowly eased my hand toward
my rifle, and I yelled out Is it a blue
tick hound? I'll never forget how he answered. The eerie,
dejected voice simply replied no. My buddy was getting nervous
by this time. I had my rifle in my hand,
and I called out, why don't you come on into
camp have some coffee. There was silence for a moment,
and then the voice asked, are y'all trapping well? I
said we were, and then got up to try to
locate him in the fog. My buddy was already looking around,
and he whispered to me, I can't see him. I
can't tell where he's at. All of a sudden, the
fog began to lift, and we frantically searched around for
the man that belonged to the eerie voice. I looked
toward the river and I spotted the figure of a
man with a fedora hat and a plaid hunting shirt.
I ran toward the figure, waving my arm, saying, who
should we contact if we see the dog? As I
got close, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. He appeared
to be an image projected onto the fog, and as
the fog began began to break up, his projection began
to break up with it. He shouted out a name,
and it escapes me to this day. And as the
fog lifted, we went down to where I saw him,
but there were no tracks. The rest of the weekend
was uneventful, and when we got back to Clarksville, we
told my buddy's dad about what had happened. He said
that he had heard stories about a ghost that roamed
the river bottoms around North Vernon. Twenty years later, I
was at a historical reenactment in southern Ohio. A bunch
of us were standing around the campfire one evening, passing
around a bottle of whiskey and telling stories. Two of
the guys were from the North Vernon area. The bottle
came my way, and after a stiff shot, I started
to tell my story. A buddy and I had something
where it happened to us up on Musk Attack Musket
Attact Muska Ta Tuck River. One time. One of the
men from North Vernon interrupted me. He asked, did a
man ask you about a coon dog? My luck told
him the answer, and he told me the story that
was passed down through his family. The ghostly hunter once
had a number of children and was a widower and
a passionate raccoon hunter. He dearly loved his children and
was their sole support. Well. One night, he lost his
dog out while hunting. Fearing to lose his treasured hound,
the hunter left his oldest child in charge and went
out searching. Tragically, he died that night, never finding his
beloved hound or getting back to his children. As the
years passed, my memory fades. Now I try to convince
myself that someone had shouted at us from a couple
of hundred yards away and it was just a fog
playing tricks on my ears. But in the back of
my mind, I know what happened that day, and I
know I'm lying to myself to think otherwise. That's what
people do when they don't have reasonable explanations for supernatural events.
Looking back, there was nothing malicious about the ghostly hunter.
He asked a few questions, and he was gone. To
this day, fishermen, hunters, and trappers along the Muscatatuck River
still have encounters with him, or so I've been told.
I've been listening to your channel for a few months
since my best friend recommended it to me, and your
show is fantastic. Well, thank you very much. I appreciate that.
I love the stories, especially the ones that occur in
locations I've been to myself. They made me wonder what
I've been missing in the woods when I'm there. But
the story I'd like to share is an experience that
went far beyond my imagination. I've been a firm believer
in Bigfoot since the age of seven, when I discovered
its tracks in the snow behind my house in New Jersey,
where I grew up. That was in nineteen seventy three,
and it would be forty five years before I had
another encounter with the elusive cryptid, and this one was
really strange. I still don't know exactly what to make
of it. On August twenty one, twenty and seventeen, the
day the solar eclipse traversed the entirety of the United States,
my wife and I took a ninety minute trip from
our home in western North Carolina to the Calpins National
Battlefield in Gaffney, South Carolina to view the eclipse. Our
house was just outside the area of totality, but the
battlefield was inside of it. We arrived about twenty minutes
before the eclipse started, and we milled about in the
open area around the visitor center. Calpin's Battlefield is a flat,
thinly wooded park that allows a visitor to see one
hundred yards in every direction. There were approximately seventy five
people sitting in our immediate area, and I could see
perhaps one hundred more walking across the battlefield proper from
my viewpoint. Many of the people brought their dogs that
day too. When the eclipse got underway, naturally all eyes
turned to the sky, viewing it with their paper glasses.
I was also looking at the moon crossing the Sun's path,
but a few seconds after the totality of the eclipse started,
my attention was diverted by low, disturbing, grunting sounds coming
from nearby my spot. I never heard sounds like this before.
They seemed to be a combination of human grunts and
pig snorts, only much louder and deeper than a man
or pig could make. It also sounded pretty upset, like
it had been woken up when it didn't want to be.
It didn't come from any of the dogs present either.
Whatever made the sounds came from something far larger than
the biggest dog present. Besides, once it got dark, all
the dogs just lay in the grass, and they stayed quiet.
I know that animals are supposed to behave strangely during
an eclipse, but I've never known a dog not to
bark its head off at the sound of a pen
drop day or night. It seemed as if they weren't
aware of what I was hearing, and I was soon
to discover that that was virtually the truth. Before I
could say anything, my wife, who was much less a
believer in Sosquatch than I am, turned to me and asked,
is that a bigfoot I hear? The grunting continued for
nearly two minutes. It was kind of hard simultaneously watching
the eclipse and figuring out where the sound emanated, but
I finally pinpointed the sounds coming from a thin patch
of trees and brush fifty yards from us. I wouldn't
call this patch thick woods. It was only one hundred
feet long and twenty feet wide, and I could clearly
see the battlefield and the people in the field behind it.
I don't think even a toddler could successfully hide in
that scrub, but that's where the grunting originated. But nothing
was there. Not only didn't I see anything, but looking around.
No one else present even seemed to be aware of
it besides my wife and I. I could see them
watching the eclipse and going on with their conversations, and
not one person even looked in the direction of the grunting. Eventually,
as the eclipse ended, the grunting faded, and then it stopped.
The dogs jumped up from the grass and started prancing around.
The people lowered their heads and made to leave, and
I was left scratch my head and figure out what
it was I had just experienced. I've heard alleged Bigfoot
recordings before, the howls, the whistles, the supposed Sisquatch language,
and while I can't say that what I heard resemble
those recordings, all I could think of was that the
sounds could only have come from something as large as
a bigfoot, and yet there was nothing I could see
making the sound. I have never put much stock into
the hypothesis that Bigfoot possesses paranormal abilities such as invisibility,
dimensional travel, or telepathy. I've always wanted to believe that
it was a biological, terrestrial creature like you, me, and
every other form of life on Earth. But this experience
has me questioning those beliefs. Why was it that only
my wife and I heard the sounds in the field
full of people. Why couldn't I see it when it
should have been obvious in that thin patch of woods.
Did the eclipse have anything to do with this? It
would be nice to find out the answers to those questions.
There have been several credible sightings of Bigfoot within a
twenty mile radius of my house in the last several years,
but I don't think he's going to sit down and
explain it to me.