Speaker 1: My grandfather worked for the Forestry Service all his life.
Speaker 1: He and my grandmother lived on the edge of the
Speaker 1: Sam Houston National Forest in East Texas. I grew up
Speaker 1: in Dallas, but often spent summers with them when I
Speaker 1: was younger. My grandfather knew the name and benefits of
Speaker 1: every tree, flower, plant, and critter in the forest. He
Speaker 1: could read the soul and tell exactly what it was
Speaker 1: made of and how long it had been there. He
Speaker 1: knew what the weather was going to be like days
Speaker 1: in advance, and could identify birds by their calls. I
Speaker 1: was certain he knew almost as much as God did
Speaker 1: about all those woods, and to my reckoning, my pap
Speaker 1: Paul was better than Sanna, the easter Bunny, and the
Speaker 1: tooth Fairy all rolled up into one. He was my
Speaker 1: hero then and he still is today. The summer and
Speaker 1: I turned ten began like many had before it. My
Speaker 1: mother drove me from Dallas to Trinity, Texas. After school
Speaker 1: was out. I had two suitcases stuffed with nothing but
Speaker 1: t shirts, shorts, and flip flops. I decided that since
Speaker 1: I was practically an adult, I should be able to
Speaker 1: go to work with my grandfather in the woods instead
Speaker 1: of staying inside with my grandmother all day. I nagged
Speaker 1: her relentlessly until one day she finally agreed to let
Speaker 1: me go to work with my grandfather. She packed us
Speaker 1: both a lunch and issued several dire warnings from my
Speaker 1: grandfather about what would happen to him if he brought
Speaker 1: me back with even a single scratch. He listened to
Speaker 1: her and promised to return me in one piece. As
Speaker 1: we walked to the door, he winked at me and
Speaker 1: whispered that sometimes she did enough talking for three women.
Speaker 1: My grandmother hollered. I heard that, and we both ran
Speaker 1: laughing to the truck before she could come after us
Speaker 1: with her spoon. As we drove off towards the woods,
Speaker 1: I asked him all sorts of questions about the types
Speaker 1: of trees we were passing, what types of clouds those
Speaker 1: were up in the sky, and anything else that came
Speaker 1: to my curious mind. He listened to and answered all
Speaker 1: of my questions, even though I'm sure I must have
Speaker 1: tried his patience with my chattering. By the time we
Speaker 1: reached the point where we would have to walk, it
Speaker 1: was later in the morning, so we decided to take
Speaker 1: our lunches with us and have a picnic. When we
Speaker 1: found a good spot. My grandfather walked ahead of me
Speaker 1: in the overgrown path, pointing out things of interest along
Speaker 1: the way. Suddenly he stopped and turned to me as
Speaker 1: he brought one finger to his lips. Well excitement rose
Speaker 1: in my chest because I knew from past experience this
Speaker 1: meant he had something he wanted me to see. It
Speaker 1: was usually some type of animal or an insect. On
Speaker 1: previous trips into the wood woods, I had seen deer
Speaker 1: and raccoons, rabbits, possums, snakes, a bobcat, turkeys, and even
Speaker 1: a sounder of feral hogs. He crouched low in the
Speaker 1: long grass and pointed down the embankment, through an open
Speaker 1: space in the brush, to a pond below. He was
Speaker 1: pointing at a figure hunched over by the water. At
Speaker 1: first I thought he was looking at a hobo washing something,
Speaker 1: but when my grandfather handed me the binoculars, I saw
Speaker 1: that it looked more like a bear or a gorilla.
Speaker 1: It had shiny black fur that glittered in the sun.
Speaker 1: Its arms were fur covered too. I could see a
Speaker 1: white patch of fur on its left shoulder that looked
Speaker 1: like a scar, and I stared at the creature. Searching
Speaker 1: my mind for something I could connect it to something
Speaker 1: I recognized, but I couldn't make it fit. Lowering the binoculars,
Speaker 1: I looked at my grandfather for an answer, and he
Speaker 1: mentioned that we should quietly go back to the truck.
Speaker 1: We had walked quickly for a quarter of a mile
Speaker 1: when he asked if I might like a hamburger for
Speaker 1: lunch instead of the food my grandmother had prepared. He
Speaker 1: didn't have to ask twice. I agreed immediately. My Pappaul
Speaker 1: took our paper sack lunches and left them on the
Speaker 1: side of the path, and then he let out a
Speaker 1: long whistle that sounded a little like a bob white
Speaker 1: quail call, mixed with a little warble at the end.
Speaker 1: A few seconds later, the sound was returned from where
Speaker 1: we had just been, and my Papa smiled and turned
Speaker 1: and began walking back to the truck. I thought him silently,
Speaker 1: knowing he would explain everything eventually. Later, as we enjoyed
Speaker 1: our burgers, he told me what we had seen. He said,
Speaker 1: what we saw today is something that not many people
Speaker 1: have had a chance to see. Those animals live in
Speaker 1: the forest and have probably been here much longer than
Speaker 1: people have. We share this world with them, the same
Speaker 1: way we share the earth with all of God's creatures. Well,
Speaker 1: I ask what are they called? Well, some people call
Speaker 1: them boogers, he said, boogers? What's a booger? Why didn't
Speaker 1: that try to kill us? I don't think it would
Speaker 1: hurt us unless it was scared or in pain, or
Speaker 1: trying to protect its babies. It's always best to leave
Speaker 1: them be, he said, and we sat for a while
Speaker 1: in silence. Papa, I asked, well, what is it? June Bug?
Speaker 1: That was his nickname for me, and I loved it.
Speaker 1: How come you never told me about the boogers before? Well? Now,
Speaker 1: sometimes the things you know are see are like secrets.
Speaker 1: If you keep them to yourself, then it's more special
Speaker 1: than if you were to go and tell everyone. People
Speaker 1: don't always like learning new things. Sometimes they can get
Speaker 1: scared or mad if they don't understand something. Do you
Speaker 1: understand what I mean? Yeah, Papa, I think so. I
Speaker 1: think this is going to be our secret, just you
Speaker 1: and me and the booger. He laughed and put his
Speaker 1: big work callust hand on top of my head, messing
Speaker 1: my hair up. I think so too, June bug, he said,
Speaker 1: still laughing. During the rest of that summer, we often
Speaker 1: heard those same bird calls on our walks, and when
Speaker 1: we did, my Papa always left our lunches on the
Speaker 1: side of whatever path we were on, and he whistled back.
Speaker 1: I was grateful to the booger because it meant that
Speaker 1: we would be having burgers for lunch that day. He
Speaker 1: said it was his way of making friends. He said,
Speaker 1: you should never pass up a chance to share a
Speaker 1: little good will, because it will always bring you blessings
Speaker 1: in return. My grandfather was a wise man. Years later,
Speaker 1: after both of my grandparents had passed away, I returned
Speaker 1: to those same woods. I hadn't been back there in
Speaker 1: a very long time, but it was largely unchanged from
Speaker 1: what I remember. I still knew the names of the
Speaker 1: plants and the trees and animals and insects my grandfather
Speaker 1: had taught me, and soon I was lost in the
Speaker 1: happy memories of our summer walks. Ironically, I had brought
Speaker 1: a lunch that was very similar to the ones my
Speaker 1: grandmother had packed so long ago. I had a thermos
Speaker 1: of cool sweet tea, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,
Speaker 1: an apple, and some fig newtons for dessert. I had
Speaker 1: inherited my grandfather's love of those cookies. I found a
Speaker 1: nice shady spot and was about to sit down to
Speaker 1: enjoy my food when I heard what sounded like a
Speaker 1: Bob White call, with a little warble at the end.
Speaker 1: I immediately froze and felt my heart skip a beat.
Speaker 1: I was confused by my reaction at first, but then
Speaker 1: the memory of that day so long ago came rushing back.
Speaker 1: I could almost feel the presence of my grandfather in
Speaker 1: those moments. Without any hesitation, I returned and the call.
Speaker 1: I left my lunch on the ground and began to
Speaker 1: walk back to my car. After what I thought was
Speaker 1: about fifty yards, I turned to look back. The booker
Speaker 1: was there in the middle of the path with my
Speaker 1: sack lunch in its huge hand. I guess that he
Speaker 1: must have been about eight to ten feet tall, but
Speaker 1: he was stooped over a little bit, like an elderly man.
Speaker 1: He had hairy arms, and his head seemed almost too
Speaker 1: small for his shoulders and massive chest. His eyes were
Speaker 1: the color of honey but were cloudy with age. He
Speaker 1: had a broad, flat nose and lips that were very
Speaker 1: human looking. The skin on his face was wrinkled and
Speaker 1: looked like sun bleached leather. His eyebrows and the hair
Speaker 1: around his mouth were gray, like an old dog. I
Speaker 1: saw him move to the side, as if he were
Speaker 1: trying to see behind me. Maybe he was looking for
Speaker 1: my grandfather. Maybe this was the same booger we had
Speaker 1: seen that day. I wasn't afraid. We looked at each
Speaker 1: other for a few seconds. I saw him open the
Speaker 1: bag and carefully remove the sleeve of fig newtons inside.
Speaker 1: He removed the plastic and began to eat them slowly.
Speaker 1: I swear I saw his lips curve into something like
Speaker 1: a smile. As he turned and started to walk back
Speaker 1: into the woods. I saw he had a white patch
Speaker 1: of fur on his left shoulder. I returned several days
Speaker 1: later to leave some more fig newtons for the booger
Speaker 1: in the spot where I had left my lunch the
Speaker 1: previous time. I saw something glittering on the crook of
Speaker 1: an old oak tree. When I got closer, I saw
Speaker 1: that it was a beautiful crystal quartz stone that had
Speaker 1: been polished to a high shine. When I held it
Speaker 1: in my hand, it felt heavy and warm, as if
Speaker 1: it carried the memory of thousands of days in the sun.
Speaker 1: It was a gift from the bugger. I whistled like
Speaker 1: a Bob white Well and added a little extra warble
Speaker 1: at the end, and then I waited, hoping for a response,
Speaker 1: and I was not disappointed. It's true what my pau
Speaker 1: Paul said about secrets being more special when they are kept.
Speaker 1: I've kept our secret for over fifty years until today.
Speaker 1: I think he would approve of my sharing it with
Speaker 1: you now. Until August of twenty twenty, I had really
Speaker 1: never paid attention to Bigfoot or necessarily bought into the
Speaker 1: fact that it's real. I've always liked the totem poles
Speaker 1: and the occasional tales, and of course the jerky commercials.
Speaker 1: Although I was never a non believer, I hadn't really
Speaker 1: given the subject much thought. That all changed last summer.
Speaker 1: I didn't have a sighting, but the event and circumstances
Speaker 1: are hard to make sense of without going down the
Speaker 1: Bigfoot path. Owned five acres and a getaway cabin on
Speaker 1: the sky Comish River. I'm sure I pronounced that wrong.
Speaker 1: Sky Commish River off Highway to just outside of gold Bar, Washington.
Speaker 1: It is a beautiful parcel of peace and quiet that's
Speaker 1: about forty five minute dry from the sprawling suburbs of Seattle.
Speaker 1: Last summer, my girlfriend and I were relaxing by the
Speaker 1: campfire next to the river bed just as dusk set in.
Speaker 1: We were watching the spawning salmon slap at the eddy
Speaker 1: on the other side of the river. It's a perfect
Speaker 1: holding point for the salmon and steelhead, as a huge
Speaker 1: spawning flat is the next thing waiting for them up
Speaker 1: the river from this pool. We were sitting there enjoying
Speaker 1: the evening when we heard a loud crack like a
Speaker 1: tree limb breaking about one hundred yards down stream and
Speaker 1: across the river. We didn't pay much attention to it.
Speaker 1: Occasionally a tree fall isn't that uncommon some of Only
Speaker 1: ten minutes later we heard another limb or a small
Speaker 1: tree break that was odd but not especially concerning. Somewhere
Speaker 1: around fifteen minutes after that, we heard a couple of
Speaker 1: heavy splashes in the Eddy that was distinctly different sounding
Speaker 1: than the fish jumping. These were rocks. They were big ones.
Speaker 1: I've been a competitive fisherman and outdoorsman my whole life,
Speaker 1: and I know the difference between a fish jumping and
Speaker 1: slapping the water and a heavy rock splash. A big
Speaker 1: enough rock will hit the bottom of the river bed,
Speaker 1: making a distinctive sound, and fish don't do that. They
Speaker 1: live to tell about it. The sounds were intermittent, and
Speaker 1: directly across the river from where we were sitting. We'd
Speaker 1: hear fish slaut, and then a heavy rock or two
Speaker 1: plunge in right on top of the school of salmon.
Speaker 1: Our gaze was now fixed on that spot. We were
Speaker 1: asking ourselves what the heck was going on. Suddenly we
Speaker 1: saw a rock that was at least as big as
Speaker 1: a grapefruit, but probably more like a bowling ball, fly
Speaker 1: out of the trees and hit where the fish were jumping.
Speaker 1: We first thought, who would be over there heaving small
Speaker 1: boulders at salmon just before dark? And then it occurred
Speaker 1: to me to wonder how they would have gotten there.
Speaker 1: I could see half a mile up and down the river.
Speaker 1: If anyone had crossed, I would have seen them, even
Speaker 1: if I'd missed them. The terrain is next to impossible
Speaker 1: to stand in, let alone walk through for that distance.
Speaker 1: That side of the river is extremely steep, nor is
Speaker 1: there any reasonable access from behind. There's just miles and
Speaker 1: miles of mountains, evergreens and undergrowth. As this continued, my
Speaker 1: curiosity got the better of me, so I walked out
Speaker 1: across the dry portion of the river bed to see
Speaker 1: what was up. You got your gun, my girlfriend asked nervously. Well,
Speaker 1: of course I did. I'm never without it these days.
Speaker 1: It's about one hundred yards to the edge of the
Speaker 1: river bed from my property during the summer, and about
Speaker 1: another twenty yards across the river to where the rocks
Speaker 1: were flying. I got there and fixed my eyes on
Speaker 1: a spot where the rocks were being catapulted. Everything ceased,
Speaker 1: even the birds went quiet, total silence. There was only
Speaker 1: the sound of running water. Well. I stood there for
Speaker 1: a good twenty minutes or more. Nothing happened other than
Speaker 1: the occasional salmon jumping. I walked up and down the
Speaker 1: river bank, changing my levels and vantage point to see
Speaker 1: if I could get a glimpse of what or who
Speaker 1: was doing this. I never saw anything. After ten minutes
Speaker 1: or so, I turned and walked back to the campfire.
Speaker 1: My girlfriend and I were dumbfounded. We thought it was
Speaker 1: weird and somewhat freaky, but we couldn't figure out what
Speaker 1: had thrown the rocks. A few minutes later it started again.
Speaker 1: The rocks weren't massive, but they weren't small all baseball
Speaker 1: sized rocks either. I estimated them to be the size
Speaker 1: of grapefruits and bowling balls, and they were being thrown
Speaker 1: with velocity. I started thinking, how could anybody be that strong?
Speaker 1: Earlier that year, I had been on the bank of
Speaker 1: the river with my two sons. They're nineteen and twenty one,
Speaker 1: and we were throwing big rocks, a sort of a
Speaker 1: macho man competition. None of us could heave rocks like that.
Speaker 1: My sons are six foot five and six foot eight,
Speaker 1: the latter being a four A All Conference defensive end
Speaker 1: and a four A All Conference offensive lineman with Division
Speaker 1: Ie offers. Yes, he played both sides of the ball
Speaker 1: and never took a playoff. He's been referred to as
Speaker 1: a gorilla in a man suit. I tell you this
Speaker 1: because even he could not throw rocks as big as
Speaker 1: bowling balls. The rock throwing went on for a few
Speaker 1: more minutes, and then it stopped, just like that, went
Speaker 1: back to nothing but salmon slapping the pool. I spoke
Speaker 1: with a couple of different people in the area about it,
Speaker 1: and someone suggested that it was a tweaker over there
Speaker 1: doing what tweakers do. That sounded plausible, so I just
Speaker 1: went with it, even though my instincts told me otherwise.
Speaker 1: Of the countless days and hours we've spent there over
Speaker 1: the last few years, we've seen only one questionable person
Speaker 1: on the riverbed. They were on our side and acting
Speaker 1: as if they might be high. To get to the
Speaker 1: other side, then maneuver to the spot where the incident
Speaker 1: occurred would take a superhuman feet, and then to get
Speaker 1: back in the dark, there's a slim chance of survival
Speaker 1: doing that. And the following days it really began to
Speaker 1: sink in just how much strength would be required to
Speaker 1: do what we saw that night. That's when I began
Speaker 1: to think, could this be Bigfoot? Thus my journey into
Speaker 1: research began. Several things jumped out at me while studying
Speaker 1: the subject. River slash, creek beds, salmon dusk, tree brakes,
Speaker 1: and rocks thrown with velocity. These were all tail tail
Speaker 1: signs of bigfoot. I now realize how easily things can
Speaker 1: be rationalized and explained away, even when you know better.
Speaker 1: That sixth sense told me that it wasn't a tweaker,
Speaker 1: Even though I was first willing to accept that explanation.
Speaker 1: I know now that it wasn't. This was not Captain
Speaker 1: Tweaker America. So what could a bigfoot have been doing
Speaker 1: trying to bonk salmon on the head with rocks? And
Speaker 1: how could he get them? If he did? A short
Speaker 1: way down river it flattens and widens to an area
Speaker 1: of thirty yards wide and only about two feet deep.
Speaker 1: Could he have had help down stream? Waiting for the
Speaker 1: fish to float by the current certainly lends itself to
Speaker 1: that they are intelligent creatures? Are they not. Finally, earlier
Speaker 1: in the summer, on two separate occasions, I checked the
Speaker 1: trail cams I've set up around my property for security
Speaker 1: and captured a strange and very distinctive orb of light
Speaker 1: the size of a softball. These orbs could not have
Speaker 1: been lens flair because the sun was behind the camera
Speaker 1: at the time. I never gave it much thought until
Speaker 1: I discovered that it is an occurrence possibly related to Bigfoot.
Speaker 1: It may be nothing, or it may be something. Also,
Speaker 1: on one of the bigfoot Facebook pages I belonged to,
Speaker 1: someone from the town of Skykamish, which is several miles
Speaker 1: up river from my property, posted pictures of possible footprints.
Speaker 1: When I asked them when the photos were taken, they
Speaker 1: answered last August. It was the exact same time of
Speaker 1: our incident. I have a theory on the tree breaks
Speaker 1: that we heard. Perhaps they are a warning to other
Speaker 1: predators that they're coming to a food source. It could
Speaker 1: make sense, and that it would be beneficial to warn
Speaker 1: other predators such as bears, that they're coming. Even though
Speaker 1: a black bear may be no match for a bigfoot.
Speaker 1: In nature, it is better to avoid any fight to
Speaker 1: risk injury. I look into the woods now with a
Speaker 1: different wonder than I had before. I know my story
Speaker 1: isn't exciting as many that you come across, but this
Speaker 1: is exactly what happened to me. Thank you for taking
Speaker 1: time to read it. Signed John Well John, this story
Speaker 1: was very exciting, man, What are you kidding me? And
Speaker 1: you've really thought this through and I would tend to
Speaker 1: agree with every conclusion you come to. I say on
Speaker 1: this channel a lot of times that I'm a skeptic
Speaker 1: and I question some of these things. I question just
Speaker 1: the whole theory of Bigfoot, but I believe Bigfoot exists.
Speaker 1: I really don't. I don't know why. I don't know
Speaker 1: unless you're like a total zealot for this topic. Some
Speaker 1: people think you're you're a non believer and they kind
Speaker 1: of brush you off, and you know, don't you appreciate
Speaker 1: your audience. I don't know where people get all that stuff.
Speaker 1: I'm just reading the stories lighting up. I mean, we
Speaker 1: just had another story earlier in this podcast of huge
Speaker 1: rocks being thrown in a creek where a man and
Speaker 1: his son's were on a hike. Now here's the same thing,
Speaker 1: that the rocks are not as big. What's fascinating to
Speaker 1: me is that you put together, Uh, he's throwing the
Speaker 1: rocks in the middle of a school of salmon or
Speaker 1: where they're congregated in a pool while the water's low
Speaker 1: and there's still a current. There's you know, the water's
Speaker 1: still moving, and could there be another one downstream collecting
Speaker 1: fish that he hit as they as they float down
Speaker 1: the strap And that's a brilliant way to think about that.
Speaker 1: I would have never come up with that. But all
Speaker 1: in all, this was an awesome story. It's very exciting
Speaker 1: and I love these stories, these anecdotal kind of evidence,
Speaker 1: especially when the writer does a lot of thinking and
Speaker 1: critical thinking and puts these things together, and now he
Speaker 1: walks into the woods with a wonder he had never
Speaker 1: had before. Did you guys hear that? And that's what
Speaker 1: the woods. Being a part of this story reading project
Speaker 1: and learning about everybody's experiences, how I look at the
Speaker 1: woods in a different way. Now. I'm not afraid of them.
Speaker 1: I don't ever carry a weapon unless I'm hunting, which
Speaker 1: I don't really hunt much anymore. But I'm not really
Speaker 1: afraid of anything out there. I just have a great
Speaker 1: time in the woods, my dogs and I and I
Speaker 1: don't live in the Pacific Northwest. I live in the
Speaker 1: southeastern United States, which is you know, we just don't
Speaker 1: have predators down here. Just car dogs or coyotes don't
Speaker 1: get after you. There's nothing here that will really, you know,
Speaker 1: big predators. And there's snakes, and you know, there's I
Speaker 1: don't even think there's any spiders. I ride through spider's
Speaker 1: nest every morning. I'm covered with spiders. When I get
Speaker 1: back to the house, my wife has to brush them
Speaker 1: all off of me. And some of them will bite you.
Speaker 1: I mean, they buy it, but they're not venomous. But
Speaker 1: there's really no big predators here, but I do when
Speaker 1: I go on rides and I, you know, we've been
Speaker 1: riding four wheelers on different trails and stuff and going
Speaker 1: deep into the Holly Springs National Forest and I look
Speaker 1: through the woods and I'm like this, man, I have
Speaker 1: a new sense of wonder after doing this for three years.
Speaker 1: And it's a good feeling. It's a it makes me
Speaker 1: feel like a kid again going through some of these
Speaker 1: woods and having those feelings. And so that's one benefit
Speaker 1: to doing this. It's kind of it's kind of changed
Speaker 1: the way I look at things and made things a
Speaker 1: lot more fun for me when I'm away from this microphone.
Speaker 1: But listen, I really appreciate you guys listening to this
Speaker 1: few And hopefully this week work will slow up a
Speaker 1: little bit and I can get a couple out. But
Speaker 1: I appreciate you listening, and we'll see you on the
Speaker 1: next podcast. Thank you.