Speaker 1: If you follow this podcast, you know that I've been
Speaker 1: uploading archived audio projects that I've done as far back
Speaker 1: as five or six years ago. I'm doing that because
Speaker 1: there are a lot of new followers on the podcast,
Speaker 1: and it's not normal for a new listener to search
Speaker 1: back into the history or library of any podcast and
Speaker 1: go back to the old stuff and listen to it.
Speaker 1: I know I don't do that. I don't know anyone
Speaker 1: else who does that. They stumble on a new podcast
Speaker 1: and they just keep listening to the new stuff. However,
Speaker 1: the stories that I did, especially in the first couple
Speaker 1: of years, they weren't presented very well as you're gonna
Speaker 1: hear in this podcast, but the stories are fantastic. I'm
Speaker 1: reaching way back in this episode one on one of
Speaker 1: the archive drops. Two of the stories in this podcast
Speaker 1: are from that era, and you'll look the audio horrible
Speaker 1: on them, and I've tried to improve it. The way
Speaker 1: I read them was not very good. It was pretty
Speaker 1: poor reading, and I've learned how to do it just
Speaker 1: a little bit better through the years. But if you
Speaker 1: can get by that and just listen to the story,
Speaker 1: I think you'll be entertained and intrigued. That's all I
Speaker 1: wanted to say, thanks for watching the first one hundred.
Speaker 1: I didn't announce it. I was going to do it
Speaker 1: back in May. I just made a decision and just
Speaker 1: did it that I was going to try my best
Speaker 1: to upload one hundred podcasts in one hundred days. I
Speaker 1: missed my mark, but I got a hundred up in
Speaker 1: about one hundred and six days. I believe it is
Speaker 1: so thank you for listening. I'm going to keep doing them.
Speaker 1: They're not going to drop every day from this point forward.
Speaker 1: Some might, but I'll probably drop a couple of archive
Speaker 1: podcasts per week along with the newer podcast that I do,
Speaker 1: so maybe you can expect two to three a week.
Speaker 1: I just want to get on and let you know
Speaker 1: how much I appreciate you listening and following this podcast,
Speaker 1: and I hope you continue to enjoy the stories, new
Speaker 1: and old. All right, here we go. There was an
Speaker 1: old hermit once. No one ever really knew his name
Speaker 1: or where he came from. He was as much a
Speaker 1: part of the landscape as the trees that grew around
Speaker 1: a shack he kept himself. Mostly. Sometimes he'd venture into
Speaker 1: town and pick up a bag of coffee beans or
Speaker 1: maybe a pound of flour. But when he did, he
Speaker 1: didn't speak much to anyone. Mostly he stayed out there
Speaker 1: by himself in the woods. He was such a quiet
Speaker 1: old man that no one ever gave him much thought.
Speaker 1: He was never invited to any parties, nor did he
Speaker 1: show up for the community dances. He was nowhere to
Speaker 1: be found when the fireworks the sky on the fourth
Speaker 1: of July. And well, it's highly unlikely that anyone ever
Speaker 1: thought to give him a Christmas present. He was just
Speaker 1: old Jake, and it may not have been his real name,
Speaker 1: but who could say. But someone started calling him that
Speaker 1: one day, and it stuck. Old Jake didn't live alone
Speaker 1: in his little one room shack. He had three companions
Speaker 1: who lived there too, and their names were I Know,
Speaker 1: you Know, and Kaliko. They were three of the finest
Speaker 1: redbone hounds a man could ask for. They hunted faithfully
Speaker 1: at his side and spent long hours lying on the
Speaker 1: banks of the river while Old Jake fished. Each morning,
Speaker 1: when Jake got up, those three dogs were at the
Speaker 1: door waiting to be let in, having spent a long
Speaker 1: night out chasing whatever animals inhabited the night. Each night
Speaker 1: before he went to bed, they were at the door again,
Speaker 1: waiting to be let out for another night of rolic.
Speaker 1: Jake didn't have many possessions, and just a few pieces
Speaker 1: of furniture and his gun in his fishing pole, and
Speaker 1: the tools he needed to get through each day. In
Speaker 1: each spring, he'd put in a big garden and the
Speaker 1: food from which is what he lived on most of
Speaker 1: the year. He grew what he needed and canned and
Speaker 1: dried and put away as much as he could, along
Speaker 1: with the fish and the game he caught. It was
Speaker 1: usually enough to get him through the winter, and when
Speaker 1: it wasn't enough, Jake went hungry. It was one of
Speaker 1: those years when the garden hadn't produced like it should
Speaker 1: and the game had been a bit scarce, that Jake
Speaker 1: found himself deep into February with nothing left to eat.
Speaker 1: He went out each day and hunted for rabbits and
Speaker 1: squirrels or anything else he could find, but he wasn't
Speaker 1: having a lot of luck that year. Sometimes he'd go
Speaker 1: a whole week before he'd managed to catch something to
Speaker 1: fill his belly, and at his age, with his bones
Speaker 1: beginning to protest against the cold, Jake was miserable. One night,
Speaker 1: tired and hungry and with nothing to eat. He turned
Speaker 1: out the dogs and put up the biggest fire he
Speaker 1: could in the fireplace, and he crawled into bed under
Speaker 1: his old patchwork wilt. The wind blew hard that night,
Speaker 1: and the cabin creaked and shuddered under its force. Jake
Speaker 1: shivered in reply, and his belly was too empty and
Speaker 1: his body was too cold to allow for a good
Speaker 1: night's sleep. It's all he could do was lie there
Speaker 1: and listen. I know, you know, And Kaliko had come
Speaker 1: back from the woods early. He could hear him bedding
Speaker 1: down in the cross space under the floorboards. Ought to
Speaker 1: get up and let those dogs in, he told himself
Speaker 1: as he listened to them scratching around below him. But
Speaker 1: he was cold and hungry, and he was tired. Getting
Speaker 1: up and going to the door seemed like too big
Speaker 1: of a task, So he laid there and he listened.
Speaker 1: It wasn't long before he began to notice the But
Speaker 1: the noises he was hearing didn't sound like his dogs
Speaker 1: at all. This got his attention. He raised his head
Speaker 1: a little off the bed and concentrated. He heard scratching,
Speaker 1: long scratches and short scratches. That ain't my dog's, he said.
Speaker 1: The scratching grew louder and turned into a gnawing sound.
Speaker 1: What is that? He wondered. Feeling a little afraid, Jake
Speaker 1: sat up in his bed and he looked around the room.
Speaker 1: At that moment, something nibbled through the wall and popped
Speaker 1: its head through the hole. It was a tall, bony
Speaker 1: rat like creature with beady red eyes that watered with
Speaker 1: milky secretions, and long yellow teeth that drips sliva onto
Speaker 1: the floor. It raised its clawed hands up and began
Speaker 1: to inch toward Jake's bed. Panic down, afraid, Jake forgot
Speaker 1: all about his aching bones and his empty belly, and
Speaker 1: he thought only of how he was going to rid
Speaker 1: himself with this monster. He climbed out of bed and
Speaker 1: ran to grab something, anything, to defend himself from this
Speaker 1: creature that was moving ever closer. The first thing Jake
Speaker 1: got his hands on was a meat cleaver on the table.
Speaker 1: He turned and swung it at the fend and backed
Speaker 1: it into a corner where it had chewed the hole.
Speaker 1: It ducked and swayed, even pounced back as they fought,
Speaker 1: But little by little, Jake was winning until he found
Speaker 1: himself standing by the door of the cabin, and thinking quickly,
Speaker 1: he threw open the door and called for the dogs.
Speaker 1: Seconds later, they were barreling into the cabin. They were
Speaker 1: growling and barking at the strange, monstrous being, and together
Speaker 1: Jake and the dogs drove it back to the hole
Speaker 1: and out of the cabin. But before it could escape completely,
Speaker 1: Jake grabbed its tail and with one swing of the blade,
Speaker 1: he chopped it off. The animal gave out a horrifying
Speaker 1: scream that rattled Jake and sent three dogs cower back.
Speaker 1: Jake looked quickly around the room and found a piece
Speaker 1: of cloth to shove into the hole. Then he piled
Speaker 1: some of his firewood in front of it, and then
Speaker 1: he turned to the dogs and gave each one a
Speaker 1: pat on the head before letting them back out into
Speaker 1: the night. Jake looked at the long tail in his hand,
Speaker 1: and he wondered what he should do with it. His
Speaker 1: stomach rumbled and hunger then, and so he decided to
Speaker 1: cook it into his suit. An hour later, with his
Speaker 1: belly full for the first time in a week, Jake
Speaker 1: tired and crawled into bed and fell asleep. It wasn't
Speaker 1: long though, until that scratching sound began again, and Jake
Speaker 1: found himself sitting up in bed, facing the corner where
Speaker 1: he had secured the hole. A second later, the pile
Speaker 1: of firewood erupted and the rat creature was standing in
Speaker 1: front of him again. Where's my taily poe, it growled
Speaker 1: at him. I want my taily poe. I don't have,
Speaker 1: Jake cried, his voice wavering in fear. Go away. I
Speaker 1: want my taily pole, the thing replied. Jake sprang from
Speaker 1: the bed and ran to the front door. I know
Speaker 1: you know, Caaliico? He called, Come in here, boys, and
Speaker 1: once again the three dogs came. Running together. Jake and
Speaker 1: his dogs forced the beasts back into the hole. Once again,
Speaker 1: Jake covered it with bits of cloth and firewood. He
Speaker 1: was exhausted beyond measure now and he crawled back into
Speaker 1: the bed within seconds, and he was snoring. When Jake
Speaker 1: awoke again, the monster was already inside the cabin. It
Speaker 1: was towering over his bed and croaking out the words
Speaker 1: where is my taily pole? Again. Jake sprang for the
Speaker 1: door and he threw it open. I know you know, Caalico,
Speaker 1: he called, but the dogs didn't come. I know, Come on, boy,
Speaker 1: he yelled again, you know where you at, Kalko. Come on, boy,
Speaker 1: come on. No matter how many times he called, the
Speaker 1: dogs didn't come. He turned and faced the monstrous rat,
Speaker 1: who demanded in its leathery voice, I want my tailey pole.
Speaker 1: And Jake ran for his bed and jumped in and
Speaker 1: threw the covers over his head. I don't have it,
Speaker 1: he screamed. I cooked it and ate it for supper.
Speaker 1: In an instant, the rat jumped onto the bed and
Speaker 1: began to claw at the old quilt, and Jake screamed
Speaker 1: and cried out for help, and the rat gnawed through
Speaker 1: the covers and into Jake's shirt. Help me, help me,
Speaker 1: he screamed, but no one was around to hear him,
Speaker 1: and then it began to claw its way into Jake's stomach.
Speaker 1: It was later that spring when someone finally noticed that
Speaker 1: Jake hadn't been to town for quite some time, and
Speaker 1: for the first time in memory, Old Jake was the
Speaker 1: center of conversation. You don't suppose he's hurt out there
Speaker 1: in that cabin, Someone asked, well, maybe he died out there.
Speaker 1: He's getting old, you know. Another suggested, do you think
Speaker 1: we ought to go check on him? Yet another wondered.
Speaker 1: The town gathered up a group of men and they
Speaker 1: headed out to the cabin where Old Jake lived, and
Speaker 1: when they got there, they found the place had been
Speaker 1: torn to pieces. The only thing standing was the fireplace chimney.
Speaker 1: They found a skull that looked like it probably belonged
Speaker 1: to one of Jake's hound dogs, and there were bits
Speaker 1: of material that might have been covered in blood. But
Speaker 1: Jake was gone. He was never seen again. These days,
Speaker 1: if you head out to the woods where Old Jake's
Speaker 1: cabin once stood, don't be surprised if you hear screaming
Speaker 1: on the wind in a scratchy, growling voice, demanding to
Speaker 1: know where's my daily pole. In April of twenty ten,
Speaker 1: my husband was assigned a contract to work in Germany.
Speaker 1: We decided that it would be a good experience for
Speaker 1: our son, Jake, then eighteen and a senior in high school,
Speaker 1: to go for a senior trip. We discussed the plans
Speaker 1: with his school principal and was met with the resounding yes,
Speaker 1: he's excused. This is a trip of a lifetime. Go
Speaker 1: with lots of instructions on how to navigate the airport's
Speaker 1: use of passport finding a US embassy and movement through customs.
Speaker 1: We sent our one hundred and seventy five pound, six
Speaker 1: foot tall wrestler alone to Germany to meet his dad.
Speaker 1: He stayed a week and then he returned home. Jake
Speaker 1: returned to an airport where I had never driven. Monday,
Speaker 1: May third, twenty ten, my twelve year old daughter, Journey
Speaker 1: and I picked up my son at Dulles International Airport
Speaker 1: in Virginia at nine forty five pm. I used a
Speaker 1: map quest to find the shortest route and printed a copy,
Speaker 1: which took us down country roads in the daylight hours.
Speaker 1: It was easy, peasy. We arrived at the airport without
Speaker 1: a hitch. I proceeded south on Route twenty eight with
Speaker 1: both of my kids heading home. My daughter rode in
Speaker 1: the front seat to navigate the printed directions in reverse
Speaker 1: and in the dark. My son rode in the back
Speaker 1: seat with his head down. I became disoriented and missed
Speaker 1: our left turn on to Aiden Road. To make matters worse,
Speaker 1: the fuel gauge was on empty. I had less than
Speaker 1: three gallons in the tank. I was afraid that we'd
Speaker 1: run out of gas in the middle of nowhere. This
Speaker 1: was compounded by the fact that the local news was
Speaker 1: plastered with stories of a mass murderer in the Manassas area.
Speaker 1: His mo was stabbing victims with screwdrivers or bash with
Speaker 1: a hammer and leaving them for dead. I didn't tell
Speaker 1: the kids. I'm not one to shield my kids from gore,
Speaker 1: but they sensed my urgency and the tension was high.
Speaker 1: I saw a dimly lit gas station on the side
Speaker 1: of the road. I pulled in, swiped my card. It authorized.
Speaker 1: I pulled the handle to start the flow of gas
Speaker 1: into my tank, and one cent dispensed and clunked the
Speaker 1: gas pump stop. I got three cents worth of gas
Speaker 1: over three tries when I noticed a large, brownish tan
Speaker 1: suv sitting at the stop sign with its hazard lights on.
Speaker 1: The feeling of relief that I had found a gas
Speaker 1: station changed from annoyance with the pumps to an undeniable
Speaker 1: fear something wasn't right about the vehicle. I got in
Speaker 1: the car, locked the doors, and drove out of the
Speaker 1: gas station parking lot. As I approached the stop sign
Speaker 1: where the suv was parked, a dark haired man wait
Speaker 1: for us to stop. To OH. I was terrified and
Speaker 1: didn't know why. My son said, Mom I think this
Speaker 1: guy needs some help. No one needs more help than
Speaker 1: us right now. He's a grown man. He can figure
Speaker 1: it out. I blew through the stop sign. We drove
Speaker 1: down roads with unfamiliar names that were unmarked by lines
Speaker 1: and narrowed ominously into what looked like a tree lined tunnel.
Speaker 1: Upon reaching a dead end, we backtracked, finding that we
Speaker 1: had to navigate around obstacles that were not there earlier.
Speaker 1: We approached part of a large broken pine tree laying
Speaker 1: in the middle of the road and drove around it.
Speaker 1: It was as if someone had thrown a broken pine
Speaker 1: tree randomly in the yard. We backtracked to find Fitzwater Drive.
Speaker 1: It passed an open well liit convenience store, where I
Speaker 1: stopped and filled up with gas. The tension calm because
Speaker 1: we had a full tank of gas and this road
Speaker 1: would eventually lead us home. My cars old dim yellow
Speaker 1: tinted lights illuminated something beside the road. Crouched and bent
Speaker 1: over in the corner ditch was a large reddish brown figure.
Speaker 1: Its back was toward the road, so I saw no face.
Speaker 1: The fur texture, shape, and lay were like a wet
Speaker 1: brown bear. You knew how you see bears exiting a
Speaker 1: river on TV. The fur was auburn with a thick undercoat,
Speaker 1: and the outside hairs laid downward in points like fresh
Speaker 1: out of the water hair groomed with a wide toothed comb.
Speaker 1: I saw the animal but said nothing. My daughter immediately said,
Speaker 1: did you see that? What was it poking fun? I said,
Speaker 1: I don't know, maybe it was a bigfoot. My son
Speaker 1: said he was looking forward and only saw a reddish
Speaker 1: brown colored difference in the peripheral vision. The time was
Speaker 1: approximately eleven PM. I asked if I should turn around
Speaker 1: and go back to see The kid said to keep
Speaker 1: because they were already rattled by being lost late at night,
Speaker 1: they didn't want to waste any more time getting home.
Speaker 1: We arrived home around midnight or twelve thirty am. The
Speaker 1: kids went to bed with no further conversation about our adventure.
Speaker 1: The next day, Tuesday, May the fourth, I began research
Speaker 1: on grizzly brown bears in Virginia. I found a Virginia
Speaker 1: Department of Game in Inland Fisheries pdf link saying that
Speaker 1: grizzly bears do not live in Virginia. Virginia is home
Speaker 1: only to black bears. After finding this article, and without
Speaker 1: making any comments to bias a reaction. I showed my son.
Speaker 1: He read in silence, his eyes widened, fear washed over
Speaker 1: his face, and the colored drain. Mom, you've got to
Speaker 1: report this. That was a bigfoot. I told Jake, wait here,
Speaker 1: don't talk, don't say anything. I immediately walked to my
Speaker 1: daughter's room. I asked, Journey, do you think you could
Speaker 1: draw a picture of what you saw last night? Sure,
Speaker 1: and went to work on a sketch in another room,
Speaker 1: away from prying eyes. I made my own drawing. When
Speaker 1: Journey completed her sketch, we compared pictures. My drawing showed
Speaker 1: the back of a squatting, crouched, hairy figure. The animal's
Speaker 1: head bent low as if to hide, exposing only the
Speaker 1: massive hairy's shoulders to its waistline. My daughter's drawing was
Speaker 1: from a different perspective. She caught sight of the animal
Speaker 1: as we rounded the corner, placing her at an angle
Speaker 1: to see its profile. Her drawing depicted the curve of
Speaker 1: the ditch with a large, hunched being sitting in the depression.
Speaker 1: It was leaning forward as though to make itself look smaller,
Speaker 1: with arms outstretched to support its weight against the rise
Speaker 1: of the ditch's embankment. On the other side, there was
Speaker 1: no mistaking that she drew massive shoulders, lack of neck,
Speaker 1: and a conical head file that transitioned into a heavy,
Speaker 1: sloping brow. With the pieces of evidence, I filled an
Speaker 1: online report with two of the leading Bigfoot research organizations.
Speaker 1: I knew who to contact because Jake had completed an
Speaker 1: independent research project years earlier on the Bigfoot, Yetti sisquatch phenomenon.
Speaker 1: As I typed my response, Jake schooled me on what happened.
Speaker 1: It all makes sense, mom. The Native Americans believe he's
Speaker 1: a spirit being that orchestrates or is drawn by confusion, fear,
Speaker 1: or chaos. People report finding broken trees in the vicinity
Speaker 1: of Bigfoot. That's exactly what happened last night. Within an hour,
Speaker 1: both Bigfoot research organizations contacted me, one of which went
Speaker 1: to the site and conducted their own investigation. He considered
Speaker 1: me a Class B witness because there was no physical
Speaker 1: evidence or photographic evidence from the scene found. I was
Speaker 1: a credible witness because of my standing in the community
Speaker 1: as a teacher and a disability awareness advocate. He said
Speaker 1: that any other animal would flee like a bear or deer,
Speaker 1: not crouch and hide. I wasn't a whack job. The
Speaker 1: researcher found a blind of a bent tree secured by
Speaker 1: a large rock in the area, supporting the thought that
Speaker 1: this may be a bigfoot shelter. There was also a
Speaker 1: food source dumpsters in close proximity, with nearby woods for cover.
Speaker 1: I've shared my story with very few folks, only those
Speaker 1: I can trust. Sometimes a family member will say, tell
Speaker 1: so and so about the Aiden Road incident, like I'm
Speaker 1: a party novelty. Most would be satisfied with this being
Speaker 1: the conclusion of my bear turned Bigfoot sighting. But that
Speaker 1: is not the end. My husband calls me the unsolved
Speaker 1: mystery Lady because I love mystery shows on TV, and
Speaker 1: one day I hoped to unrival a mystery. After all
Speaker 1: the Bigfoot excitement had died down in our household, I
Speaker 1: had some quiet time on my hands. I recalled that
Speaker 1: about a month before the sighting, I had pondered Bigfoot
Speaker 1: and said, God, if you are the creator, certainly you
Speaker 1: made bigfoot, and certainly you can let me see one.
Speaker 1: That was that. No hell, Mary's, no our fathers, no formalities,
Speaker 1: just a chat with God. I realized that God is
Speaker 1: the Creator allowed me and my children to see this
Speaker 1: marvelous creature. Then the news came out in the local newspapers,
Speaker 1: The Examiner and The Louden Times August tenth, twenty ten,
Speaker 1: and then in the Free Lance Star August twenty seventh,
Speaker 1: twenty ten. The headlines noted that a serial killer responsible
Speaker 1: for five deaths near Flint, Michigan, is one in the
Speaker 1: same hunting men in North Virginia, wounding a dozen since May.
Speaker 1: While the victims varied in ages, they included a fifteen
Speaker 1: year old boy, a nineteen year old man in the
Speaker 1: area close to the age of my son, and one
Speaker 1: in upwards of sixty seven years old. The report stated
Speaker 1: that the killer drove a nineteen ninety five to two
Speaker 1: thousand and six four door Chevy S ten Blazer GMC
Speaker 1: Jimmy or similar vehicle that may be green or gold.
Speaker 1: He feigned needing directions or help with his car. Only
Speaker 1: by the grace of God did we escape the evil
Speaker 1: that was the thirty three year old Elias of Wellasahm
Speaker 1: arrested on August eleventh, twenty ten. I kept the story
Speaker 1: to myself for years and only just started telling select
Speaker 1: people what happened. No one believes me, but I don't care.
Speaker 1: In nineteen seventy three, I was eleven years old. I
Speaker 1: stayed with my grain parents a lot. Back then. I
Speaker 1: loved being with both of them and would stay with
Speaker 1: them a lot during the summers and the holidays. They
Speaker 1: have both passed away and I missed them, which is
Speaker 1: one reason I'm able to tell the story. My grandfather
Speaker 1: forbid me from telling anyone, even telling my mother and father.
Speaker 1: The weekend before school started was Labor Day weekend, and
Speaker 1: of course I was spending the weekend at my grandmother's house. Traditionally,
Speaker 1: squirrel season opened on Labor Day weekend, and my grandfather
Speaker 1: started taking me with him when I was eight years old.
Speaker 1: It was a weekend I looked forward to every year.
Speaker 1: He had bought my first shotgun the year before, and
Speaker 1: living in the city, I never got to use it
Speaker 1: unless I was hunting with him. My mother had dropped
Speaker 1: me off at their house on Friday afternoon. Saturday morning,
Speaker 1: my grandfather woke me early to get ready to leave.
Speaker 1: My grandmother always had biscuits ready for us. When we left,
Speaker 1: my grandfather told me to stuff a couple in my
Speaker 1: vest pockets. And that I could eat them later. We
Speaker 1: had to get going. We loaded up his car and
Speaker 1: headed to the woods, about an hour away. My grandfather
Speaker 1: drank a lot. He had all his adult life, or
Speaker 1: since he returned from the war. He was a marine
Speaker 1: during World War Two. I never knew, nor did I care,
Speaker 1: what battles he fought in until I was older. He
Speaker 1: never talked about it. Now that I'm an adult and
Speaker 1: have read about these battles, I understand why he drank,
Speaker 1: and I do not hold it against him. I don't
Speaker 1: remember him not drinking, but it never seemed to cause
Speaker 1: a problem as far as a kid was concerned. He
Speaker 1: spent a lot of time with me, and I loved him.
Speaker 1: This morning was no exception. About halfway to the woods,
Speaker 1: he reached under his seat and pulled a pint bottle
Speaker 1: of some cheap whiskey and started taking swigs from the bottle.
Speaker 1: I never thought anything about it. We reached the area
Speaker 1: we were going to hunt, and as all, he sent
Speaker 1: me to a washed out ditch and told me to
Speaker 1: follow it until I reached a certain landmark, then to
Speaker 1: come out of the ditch and make my way back.
Speaker 1: He would meet me by a huge oak tree that
Speaker 1: was not far from where he parked the car. I
Speaker 1: cannot remember how far it was. I think it took
Speaker 1: me two hours to make the circle. The creek bed
Speaker 1: or ditch was always dry this time of year. It
Speaker 1: was perfect for walking because my footsteps made no noise
Speaker 1: in the sandy bottom, and though the ditch was deep,
Speaker 1: I still had a good view of the tree top
Speaker 1: so that I could pick out squirrel movement. I was
Speaker 1: never afraid, and I always had a great time hunting
Speaker 1: by myself. My grandfather had finished the pint bottle by
Speaker 1: the time we reached the woods, and I knew he
Speaker 1: would be asleep under that big oak when I returned.
Speaker 1: He always said he was hunting. But every year I
Speaker 1: would wind up back at that tree, and he would
Speaker 1: be leaned against the trunk, snoring so loud. I could
Speaker 1: hear him from one hundred yards away as I made
Speaker 1: the la last leg of the route, and he would
Speaker 1: never have any squirrels. I laugh about it now, and
Speaker 1: my brothers and I get a kick out of these
Speaker 1: stories about him. Go ahead and get into the woods,
Speaker 1: he would say, I'll meet you back here. Keep that
Speaker 1: shot gun pointed up and watch the treetops. These woods
Speaker 1: are full of squirrels on this day, I set off
Speaker 1: and was happy to be on my own. Against his advice,
Speaker 1: as soon as he was out of sight, I would
Speaker 1: click off my safety and get ready to shoot. I
Speaker 1: made my way down into that dry creek bed and
Speaker 1: started scanning the trees. I went on to kill three
Speaker 1: squirrels that morning, early right at daylight. Then all the
Speaker 1: movement seemed to stop in the trees. I walked on,
Speaker 1: looking and looking for any movement that would give a
Speaker 1: squirrel's location away. But after two hours or so of
Speaker 1: walking and backtracking, I saw nothing. I still had a
Speaker 1: ways to go, so I started walking faster. I was
Speaker 1: getting bored to an eleven year old kid. When the
Speaker 1: action stops, I reached a deeper part of the creek
Speaker 1: bed and the walls began to obscure my view of
Speaker 1: the tree tops. When I reached the lowest point, there
Speaker 1: was a pool of water still from the rain back
Speaker 1: in the summer. I could either wade through the shallow
Speaker 1: pool or go back, climb out of the ditch and
Speaker 1: walk around. I decided that I didn't want to get
Speaker 1: my shoes wet, so I backtracked to try to find
Speaker 1: a spot easy to climb out. As I turned around,
Speaker 1: I heard something walking in the woods above me. I
Speaker 1: first thought it was my grandfather because it was obviously
Speaker 1: a man walking, so I called out his name. No
Speaker 1: one answered, but I couldn't hear the footsteps anymore. I
Speaker 1: walked a little further and the footsteps started again, and
Speaker 1: I called his name again, no answer. I could not
Speaker 1: see anything. The walls of the creek were three or
Speaker 1: four feet above my head. I was in a hole.
Speaker 1: I kept walking and looking in the direct of the footsteps,
Speaker 1: and finally made it to a washout that I could
Speaker 1: climb out of. I grabbed a root ball in the
Speaker 1: ditch bank and started to pull myself out. As I
Speaker 1: reached the top, I laid my shotgun on the leaves
Speaker 1: so that I could pull myself over the top. As
Speaker 1: my line of sight broke the edge of the ditch bank,
Speaker 1: the first thing I saw was a large fur covered
Speaker 1: leg behind a tree trunk. The body of whatever this
Speaker 1: was was hidden behind the tree. I let go of
Speaker 1: the roots and fell back into the ditch. I was
Speaker 1: about to run like hell when as I got up,
Speaker 1: I saw a creature standing over me. At the top
Speaker 1: of the ditch bank. It was standing there just looking
Speaker 1: at me. I just stared at this thing. It was
Speaker 1: not making any threatening movements. It just looked at me.
Speaker 1: Then I got really afraid. I guess the shock of
Speaker 1: the moment was wearing off because I noticed the end
Speaker 1: of my gun laying halfway off the edge of the bank.
Speaker 1: The animal was standing on top of it. Then I
Speaker 1: noticed it was a female. It made a grunting sound
Speaker 1: that again was not threatening, but it still scared me
Speaker 1: to death. It started grunting, not like a monkey, more
Speaker 1: like a human imitating a monkey. It raised its arms
Speaker 1: and pointed them at me, and then grunted again. Then
Speaker 1: the fear meter went up one hundred notches because it
Speaker 1: stepped off into the creek bed with me. I backed away,
Speaker 1: keeping a distance between us. It moved towards me. I
Speaker 1: backed up. It raised one of its arms again and grunted.
Speaker 1: I was terrified and was about to turn and run
Speaker 1: for my life. I wanted to slowly back up and
Speaker 1: get a little more distance between us before I turned
Speaker 1: and ran, and I backed into someone, another human. It
Speaker 1: was my grandfather. He put his hands on my shoulder
Speaker 1: and told me to be still. I know he could
Speaker 1: feel me shaking. I was about to burst out crying,
Speaker 1: but I held it together. I was so happy that
Speaker 1: he was there. Then he leaned down and softly told
Speaker 1: me to slowly move behind him. The creature just stood there,
Speaker 1: looking at us. It had stopped its forward movement. Once
Speaker 1: I was behind my grandfather, I felt more safe. He
Speaker 1: asked me if I had any squirrels in my vest palates,
Speaker 1: and I told him I had three. Hand them to
Speaker 1: me now, he said, I reached back and found the
Speaker 1: squirrels and handed them around his waist. My grandfather never
Speaker 1: stopped looking at the creature. He took two or three
Speaker 1: steps towards the animal and pitched the squirrels to the
Speaker 1: creature's feet. The distance was only maybe fifteen or twenty feet.
Speaker 1: The creature looked down at the dead game and looked
Speaker 1: back at us. Then it reached down and gathered them
Speaker 1: with one of its big hands. In a calm voice,
Speaker 1: my grandfather told me to start backing up. When I did,
Speaker 1: he was right with me, always keeping himself between me
Speaker 1: and the creature. I started to turn around and walk,
Speaker 1: and he squeezed my arm and said, don't turn your
Speaker 1: back on this thing. Just keep backing up so we
Speaker 1: can climb out of this ditch. I finally made it
Speaker 1: to the bank and turned around and started to climb out.
Speaker 1: As I was climbing out, he told me to get
Speaker 1: his shotgun, which was laying on top of the bank,
Speaker 1: to get ready to shoot if this thing came at us.
Speaker 1: He told me not to shoot the animal, but to
Speaker 1: shoot into the air. I found his gun and stood up,
Speaker 1: clicked the safety off, and got ready. He slowly made
Speaker 1: it up the bank. The creature still stood there with
Speaker 1: the squirrels in her hand. In a few seconds, she
Speaker 1: began to walk away down the creek bed. She walked
Speaker 1: through the pool of water I had tried to avoid,
Speaker 1: and then she disappeared around a bend ahead. Then we
Speaker 1: heard her climb out, and I could see a dark
Speaker 1: figure moving away from us through the woods until it
Speaker 1: was out of sight. My grandfather asked me where my
Speaker 1: shotgun was, and I pointed to it across the bank.
Speaker 1: He cussed and jumped back down and across the ditch
Speaker 1: to get it. Then we started walking out. He asked
Speaker 1: me several times on the way out if I was
Speaker 1: okay and had that thing done anything to me? I
Speaker 1: told him I was fine. Then I asked him what
Speaker 1: that thing was. He said he didn't know. We drove
Speaker 1: home that afternoon, talking about it the whole time. I
Speaker 1: finally asked him how he knew that I was in trouble.
Speaker 1: He told me that he felt like following me that
Speaker 1: day to see how good of a squirrel hunter I was.
Speaker 1: I told him that I was sure glad that he did.
Speaker 1: The rest of that Labor Day weekend was weird. On Monday,
Speaker 1: the whole family showed up for the holiday and we
Speaker 1: cooked fish outside. All the men were telling stories and
Speaker 1: laughing and drinking beer, while all the women gathered together
Speaker 1: and laughed all amongst themselves. Everything seemed back to normal,
Speaker 1: But I will never forget that thing I ran up
Speaker 1: on that day. I know what it was, but we
Speaker 1: never talked about it again. In my grandfather's house,