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