Speaker 1: If you enjoy strange stories from the unknown, stick around.
Speaker 1: You have found your people. Welcome to the Dixie Cryptid Podcast.
Speaker 1: All right, here we go. I do a lot of fishing,
Speaker 1: and occasionally I get out there overnight for some full
Speaker 1: moon action. One night, I was the only boat on
Speaker 1: the lake when at four am, a long and loud
Speaker 1: bigfoot call came from the woods quite a distance away.
Speaker 1: What idiot would be out here at four am making
Speaker 1: bigfoot calls? I thought, And then I smiled. What idiot
Speaker 1: would be here fishing at four am to hear it,
Speaker 1: I thought, chuckling out myself. Another afternoon, on the same lake,
Speaker 1: I heard a scream from the woods, coming from a
Speaker 1: young deer in pain, and not long after I heard
Speaker 1: the deer running full blast toward me, and I watched
Speaker 1: it launch itself off the bluff at full speed from
Speaker 1: eight feet above the water level and hit the water
Speaker 1: with a big splash. It swam to a thick growth
Speaker 1: of reeds along the bank, squeezed into them, and it
Speaker 1: laid down to hide. I never did see what was
Speaker 1: after the deer, but it spooked me just the same.
Speaker 1: My son loves archery deer hunting. He got a stand
Speaker 1: set up in a brand new area, and arrived preed
Speaker 1: on for his very first hunt. A few mornings later.
Speaker 1: He was there all alone and excited to hopefully get
Speaker 1: close to one of the monster bucks that had been
Speaker 1: gracing his trail cans. After a good track from his pickup,
Speaker 1: he reached the stand. The forest was totally silent, but
Speaker 1: when he raised his foot to take the first step up,
Speaker 1: that silence was broken by a sudden, shocking scream from
Speaker 1: something close by. It caught him so off guard that
Speaker 1: he nearly wet himself and briefly considered running back to
Speaker 1: his truck, but he realized it was too far, and
Speaker 1: he quickly climbed the fifteen feet up to the seat
Speaker 1: of his stand. Instead, he sat there with his heart
Speaker 1: pounding so hard that he thought it would rip out
Speaker 1: of his chest, all the while worried about the next
Speaker 1: ninety minutes, where he would have to sit in complete
Speaker 1: darkness until the sun came up. In the mercy of
Speaker 1: whatever beast was lurking nearby, he described the scream as
Speaker 1: that of a desperate woman being murdered. It only lasted
Speaker 1: a few seconds, but it was so intense that the
Speaker 1: sound of it reverberated through his whole body and shook
Speaker 1: him to his core. Well nothing happened after that, but
Speaker 1: that sort of experience makes a guy think twice about
Speaker 1: wanting to go hunting out there again. One evening, I
Speaker 1: was with a group of bass fishermen sitting around the
Speaker 1: fire pit at a fishing lodge. At gatherings like that,
Speaker 1: topics of conversation could range from UFOs to sports to
Speaker 1: solving the world's problems, but that evening the topic was bigfoot.
Speaker 1: About a dozen guys were there, and each of them
Speaker 1: was open minded enough that, even though none of them
Speaker 1: had encountered one, they each believed in the possibility of
Speaker 1: these creatures existing. After a while of listening but not
Speaker 1: saying a word on the subject, I finally decided to
Speaker 1: tell my story. So I cleared my throat and I
Speaker 1: leaned forward. In response. The group of men went quiet,
Speaker 1: the way you do when the silent reserve type speak up,
Speaker 1: knowing that if they're going to open their mouths, it's
Speaker 1: for a good reason. I should have taken that as
Speaker 1: a compliment by their demeanor, but I didn't. I felt
Speaker 1: sick remembering what happened, but I wanted these men to
Speaker 1: know what I saw. I wanted them to be prepared.
Speaker 1: I have been a lifelong outdoorsman, hunting and fishing all
Speaker 1: over the country. I had never seen or heard anything
Speaker 1: remotely like a bigfoot, and I was one hundred percent
Speaker 1: sure there was no such thing. One morning I arrived
Speaker 1: at my stand in the Midwest for an archery deer hunt.
Speaker 1: My stand was set up within range of a game
Speaker 1: trail that emptied out into the open meadow. I sat
Speaker 1: there in total silence, and, as hunting sometimes goes, this
Speaker 1: morning had no activity at all. The sun rose on
Speaker 1: that crisp, clear fall day, and though it took all
Speaker 1: my patients, I stayed there till nine thirty am. I
Speaker 1: was five seconds from packing up and heading back to
Speaker 1: the truck when my ears picked up a twig snap
Speaker 1: from up the trail. Okay, I thought, maybe my patience
Speaker 1: is about to pay off. I settled back into my
Speaker 1: stand ready to watch what must have been a monster
Speaker 1: buck coming my way, judging by the heavy thudding of
Speaker 1: its feet, And a few minutes later my quarry finally
Speaker 1: came into view. What in the world I thought it
Speaker 1: wasn't a deer. It was the biggest, hairiest musclebound son
Speaker 1: of a bitch I had ever seen, walking on two legs,
Speaker 1: and he was coming my way. The creature that I
Speaker 1: was one hundred percent sure did not exist was coming
Speaker 1: right at me, and there was no denying its existence.
Speaker 1: At that point. I imagine the thousands of painful things
Speaker 1: it was capable of doing to me, and I thought
Speaker 1: about what a blessing, a quick, miserable death would be
Speaker 1: if this thing caught me. I sat as silent and
Speaker 1: as unmoving as I could, grasping my shaking hands together
Speaker 1: and praying it would not look my way. And when
Speaker 1: it turned away from me, I realized I had been
Speaker 1: holding my breath, and I gasped for air. Then I
Speaker 1: watched in horror as this thing stopped in its tracks
Speaker 1: and turned its head slightly in my direction. I put
Speaker 1: my hands over my mouth, and I felt my stomach sink,
Speaker 1: and by an act of God, it lost interest, and
Speaker 1: it walked into the open meadow ahead of me. It
Speaker 1: sat down on the ground and began digging up roots
Speaker 1: and eating them. And it did that for about an hour,
Speaker 1: with me helplessly watching on, afraid to move, afraid to breathe,
Speaker 1: and afraid to make the slightest sound. Finally it got
Speaker 1: up and continued walking away from me, never giving any
Speaker 1: indication that it knew I was there. And when it
Speaker 1: finally disappeared from sight, I climbed out of that stand
Speaker 1: and set an Olympic record in the quarter mile back
Speaker 1: to my truck. I never went back, not even to
Speaker 1: get my dear stand. When I finished my story, the
Speaker 1: men around the campfire stared at me in silence for
Speaker 1: a long minute, trying to process what I had told them.
Speaker 1: It must have been the look of fear on my
Speaker 1: face as I told the story, because the demeanor of
Speaker 1: the group had changed, and I could tell they believed me.
Speaker 1: It took a few more minutes before someone was brave
Speaker 1: enough to break that silence and carry on with a
Speaker 1: lighter topic. But their like banter turned to white noise.
Speaker 1: I knew they were talking, but I couldn't hear the words.
Speaker 1: The sounds of twigs snapping in the heat of the
Speaker 1: flames took me back to my deer stand, and there
Speaker 1: I was again, looking at that impossible creature with my
Speaker 1: own two eyes, knowing the experience had changed me for
Speaker 1: the worse, Knowing that my life of hunting would never
Speaker 1: be the same. I live up in British Columbia, Canada.
Speaker 1: When my youngest granddaughter was seven, she wanted a pet,
Speaker 1: of all things. Her parents let her get a pot
Speaker 1: bellied pig, but the pig became quickly a handful for
Speaker 1: my daughter, and when she and her husband started talking
Speaker 1: about surrendering the pig to a petting farm, I decided
Speaker 1: it was time for a little Piggy to move in
Speaker 1: with me. On a clear and cold Canadian night, when
Speaker 1: the temperature outside was a blistering minus thirty five degrees celsius,
Speaker 1: which means minus thirty one degrees fahrenheit, Piggy and I
Speaker 1: were inside enjoying the warmth of the house when a
Speaker 1: terrible racket sounded in my backyard. The pig was so
Speaker 1: startled that he started screaming and grunting like he was
Speaker 1: afraid for his life. Nothing I did could calm him down,
Speaker 1: and the thought of something being in the woods and
Speaker 1: the deadly cold temperatures was unsettling. My backyard backs up
Speaker 1: to a thick stand of trees, mostly pines and cottonwood,
Speaker 1: but also birch, which has a very hard trunk, and
Speaker 1: in the middle of that pig's commotion came a loud
Speaker 1: slap like a giant hit his hand against the birch's trunk.
Speaker 1: It was far too loud to be a human, and
Speaker 1: because of the pig's reaction, I was certain it was
Speaker 1: something I wanted nothing to do with. When I told
Speaker 1: my daughter about it, she laughed it off and said
Speaker 1: it was a bigfoot coming to get the pig for dinner.
Speaker 1: Based on that pig's reaction that night, she may have
Speaker 1: been right. Years before I had a sighting, people tried
Speaker 1: to convince me that it was a bear crossing the road.
Speaker 1: But I know what I saw and it was no bear. Now,
Speaker 1: after listening to your podcast and hearing about others' experiences,
Speaker 1: I am sure that is what I saw. Thank you
Speaker 1: for the stories. I loved listening to your channel. Cheers,
Speaker 1: Granny Linda. I grew up in the suburbs of Columbia,
Speaker 1: South Carolina. Since both of my parents worked full time,
Speaker 1: my days were spent with my grandparents, mainly my grandfather.
Speaker 1: He was not a blood relative, but a stepfather to
Speaker 1: my dad, and he was the only grandfather I ever knew,
Speaker 1: and he was my world. He was a World War
Speaker 1: two Korean War Vietnam War veteran and a full blooded
Speaker 1: Native Cadoan. He grew up in the Cato Indian Reservation
Speaker 1: in Oklahoma and passed along many of his stories to me.
Speaker 1: Now I'm not sure if my connection with him brought
Speaker 1: this on, but I had been sensitive to spirits and
Speaker 1: being since my first encounter at five years old. When
Speaker 1: I was five, my granddad got ill and was bedridden
Speaker 1: for a month. I was walking through the house and
Speaker 1: headed into his room when I almost ran into someone.
Speaker 1: I looked up and there stood a being taller than
Speaker 1: anyone I had ever seen before. He had the body
Speaker 1: of a man, but the head of a wolf. He
Speaker 1: was covered in fur from the waist down and had
Speaker 1: a broad chest with dark copper colored skin. He was
Speaker 1: a wolf man. He wasn't trying to hurt me, but
Speaker 1: as a small child, I instantly panicked, and when I
Speaker 1: started backing up, he stepped toward me and duck to
Speaker 1: pass through the doorway into the next room. I returned
Speaker 1: and ran crying to my grandmother. I don't think I
Speaker 1: ever explained to her what I saw. It's not that
Speaker 1: I could have at five years old anyway. My grandfather recovered,
Speaker 1: but fell ill again two years later. His health was
Speaker 1: up and down for a few years, and he was
Speaker 1: ultimately moved to assisted living about a year before his death.
Speaker 1: While at the assisted living facility, I would sometimes be
Speaker 1: dropped off for a few hours to visit with him.
Speaker 1: I was an exceptionally well behaved kid, and the management
Speaker 1: allowed me to be there unsupervised. One time, days before
Speaker 1: my eleventh birthday, I was dropped off to visit my
Speaker 1: grandfather and I stepped off the elevator onto his floor
Speaker 1: and I made my way down the hall to his room,
Speaker 1: and at the end of the hallway I saw that
Speaker 1: wolf man again. He was peering around the corner watching me,
Speaker 1: and the nurses and staff were passing right by him.
Speaker 1: That's when I realized that I was the only one
Speaker 1: who could see him. I tried to stay calm, ignored
Speaker 1: his presence, and went on to see my grandfather. When
Speaker 1: it was time for me to go home, I looked
Speaker 1: out for the wolf man at the end of the
Speaker 1: hall where I had seen him before, but he wasn't there.
Speaker 1: But as the elevator doors opened up, there he stood,
Speaker 1: so tall that his head was touching the ceiling. I
Speaker 1: gathered up all the courage I had, and I walked
Speaker 1: into the elevator, and I swear to you time slowed down.
Speaker 1: When the doors closed, he knelt down and placed a
Speaker 1: scary looking, clawed hand on my shoulder, and he began
Speaker 1: to speak to me in a native tongue that I
Speaker 1: didn't understand. I'm not sure what he said or how
Speaker 1: long I was there with him, but the next thing
Speaker 1: I knew, the doors opened on the ground floor and
Speaker 1: he was gone. The encounter gave me a safe and
Speaker 1: peaceful feeling, but sadly, my grandfather passed the following week.
Speaker 1: Twelve years later, I was twenty two and married, and
Speaker 1: I had one child, still a toddler. I was out
Speaker 1: one night on my back porch when I saw the
Speaker 1: wolfman at the back fence line, standing in the woods,
Speaker 1: and when I got up to greet him, he was gone.
Speaker 1: Within a week, my son became ill and was hospitalized.
Speaker 1: The doctors couldn't explain his condition, and they were preparing
Speaker 1: us for the worst. I did a lot of praying
Speaker 1: and begging to God, and my son made a recovery overnight.
Speaker 1: His condition was never explained medically. Three years passed and
Speaker 1: I worked as a mechanic on the second shift. Four
Speaker 1: pm to one am were crappy hours for a family
Speaker 1: man with two kids, but it was a government job
Speaker 1: with good benefits and a guaranteed paycheck. I was on
Speaker 1: my motorcycle going home from work to see my wife
Speaker 1: and kids for supper, and as I rode the two
Speaker 1: miles of rural road that led to my neighborhood, I
Speaker 1: saw the Wolfman again. The Wolfman was just off the
Speaker 1: road into the woodline, and he was pacing me at
Speaker 1: fifty miles per hour. He was running upright like a man,
Speaker 1: but with the stride that I couldn't explain. I paid
Speaker 1: him no attention, though, and I continued home. The next evening,
Speaker 1: I was on my way home again to eat with
Speaker 1: my family when I was hit by a truck that
Speaker 1: ran a red light. I was in bad shape, and
Speaker 1: I came close to dying with blood loss from the lacerations.
Speaker 1: I had two surgeries for all the broken bones, and
Speaker 1: I spent nearly two weeks in the hospital and had
Speaker 1: a six month recovery. I finally realized what this wolfman
Speaker 1: was there for, or what I think he was there for.
Speaker 1: I think this being is somehow connected to me and
Speaker 1: there to warn me of death or danger or illness.
Speaker 1: Twelve year years passed before I saw him again. My
Speaker 1: grandmother was turning ninety seven, but had recently endured some
Speaker 1: major medical setbacks. The weekend before her ninety seventh birthday,
Speaker 1: I was at the local lake out on a pontoon
Speaker 1: boat with the family. Late at night, I saw the
Speaker 1: Wolfman standing at the water's edge across the cove where
Speaker 1: we were camping. I knew what that meant, who he
Speaker 1: was there for. Well, I tried to shrug it off.
Speaker 1: I knew what was coming. My grandmother passed the next week,
Speaker 1: only a day after her ninety seventh birthday. And while
Speaker 1: the Wolfman isn't the only supernatural encounter that I've had,
Speaker 1: it's the most prominent and most reoccurring one in my life.
Speaker 1: Feel free to use my story if you like, just
Speaker 1: not my name. Even in the world where the supernatural
Speaker 1: and aliens are now accepted, the people who speak up
Speaker 1: about them are not accepted. Many years ago, my friend
Speaker 1: Jim was a flight engineer for Pacific Southwest Airlines. This
Speaker 1: was the way back when a flight engineer was required
Speaker 1: on the earlier passenger jets. Jim flew on a regular
Speaker 1: schedule flight from San Diego to San Francisco, California, and
Speaker 1: back again each day. He'd been flying this schedule for
Speaker 1: many years with no difficulties. They always flew over land,
Speaker 1: although the safety advisor always included the statement that your
Speaker 1: seat cushion is a flotation device. Once, during one of
Speaker 1: his daytime flights north to San Francisco, he and the
Speaker 1: pilot had an interesting experience. Halfway through the northbound flight,
Speaker 1: the co pilot noticed a plane on the same course
Speaker 1: as them to the east. The problem was that it
Speaker 1: was much closer than the allowed five miles, which was
Speaker 1: dangerous and against regulations. The copolot informed the pilot and
Speaker 1: contacted air traffic control. Traffic control acknowledged the other plane's
Speaker 1: unsafe distance and tried to contact them. They received no response,
Speaker 1: which was unusual. After several unsuccessful attempts to contact the
Speaker 1: other aircraft, Jim's plane was directed to turn slightly to
Speaker 1: the west, moving to a safer distance, But once his
Speaker 1: plane did this, the other aircraft moved toward them again,
Speaker 1: flying much too close. There were more attempts to contact
Speaker 1: the other aircraft, but they got no response. Air traffic
Speaker 1: control told Jim's plane that it was most likely a
Speaker 1: private plane with radio trouble, and then instructed them to
Speaker 1: move west again to gain that safe distance. They did this,
Speaker 1: but once again the other aircraft moved with them, only
Speaker 1: this time it came even closer than before. This continued
Speaker 1: until Jim's plane was forced to fly over the ocean,
Speaker 1: and in the meantime, the other aircraft had gotten close
Speaker 1: enough to Jim's plane that they had a clear visual
Speaker 1: of it. That's when they saw that it was not
Speaker 1: an airplane at all. It was a cigar shaped object
Speaker 1: that slowly but surely was getting closer to them. Jim's
Speaker 1: plane received instructions to move ten miles out over the
Speaker 1: ocean way off course. It was finally able to continue
Speaker 1: on its way, arriving just a few minutes later than
Speaker 1: scheduled and without further incident. Simultaneously, the US Navy scrambled
Speaker 1: a fighter jets to try to identify and move the
Speaker 1: UFO out of the way and hopefully force it to land.
Speaker 1: The three Navy fighters surrounded the UFO, one on either
Speaker 1: side and one behind it, and as they attempted to
Speaker 1: move it in the direction they wanted it to go,
Speaker 1: the UFO instantly sped up, reaching speeds unachievable by the fighters,
Speaker 1: and then just as quickly it flew vertically into the
Speaker 1: air and was out of sight and ran our detection
Speaker 1: in seconds. That story never made the news. There's no
Speaker 1: surprise there, and Jim never mentioned if they spoke about
Speaker 1: it again after that. What's interesting to me is the
Speaker 1: way Jim relaid the tone of the air traffic control.
Speaker 1: It was all very standards. If they had dealt with
Speaker 1: this situation countless times before. It's a good story to remember.
Speaker 1: The next time you fly, keep your eyes open, you
Speaker 1: may have company. My name is Rick and I was
Speaker 1: born and raised in Virginia Beach. Growing up, I remember
Speaker 1: listening to the Little Caesar's commercial advertising the bigfoot sized
Speaker 1: pizza with a bigfoot puppet. The reason I bring that
Speaker 1: up I will get to. In nineteen ninety seven, I
Speaker 1: was thirteen years old. Now I was visiting my cousins
Speaker 1: at my uncle's place in Pungo, Virginia Beach. His trailer
Speaker 1: was adjacent to some corn fields where they frequent Lee
Speaker 1: saw deer. Directly east of his trailer was a north
Speaker 1: Landing River Natural Area Preserve which connects to the Great
Speaker 1: Dismal Swamp. My uncle was a marine, and being in
Speaker 1: the country, he taught us about muzzle awareness, firearms safety,
Speaker 1: and of course how to shoot at a young age.
Speaker 1: One day, my cousins and I wanted to explore the
Speaker 1: woods and swamp around his trailer and try to make
Speaker 1: it to the river. That's all us kids ever wanted
Speaker 1: to do. Back then, explore the swamp and woods. We
Speaker 1: carried on through about halfway to the river, and then
Speaker 1: stopped to look at some snakes and a couple of turkeys,
Speaker 1: and out of nowhere I smelled something rotten. It's just
Speaker 1: fart rocks. My cousin Charles said, well, I shook my head. No, man,
Speaker 1: that's coming from down wind. It's way worse than a
Speaker 1: fart rock, I said, almost dizzy from the sharp, stinging smell.
Speaker 1: The next day I knew my other cousin, Marshall, and
Speaker 1: our friend Mark started yelling. A bear crouched down. Look,
Speaker 1: they shouted. We followed them closer to the bear to
Speaker 1: see for ourselves, and sure enough, there it was, just
Speaker 1: sitting there, hunched over behind a rock. We fell back
Speaker 1: about thirty yards to give it some space, all the
Speaker 1: while keeping our eyes on it. My cousin decided it
Speaker 1: would be a good idea to shoot at it, so
Speaker 1: he aimed his pellet rifle and he tried to take
Speaker 1: a shot. The rest of us told him there was
Speaker 1: no way he was going to take down that big
Speaker 1: old bear with that little rifle. The worst thing he'd
Speaker 1: do is provoke it, and then the rest of us
Speaker 1: would be in a world of trouble. So we talked
Speaker 1: him out of it and decided to go and get
Speaker 1: some real guns instead. Nothing was stopping us from getting
Speaker 1: to that river. We jogged back to my uncle's trailer
Speaker 1: and got a twenty two handgun and a four to
Speaker 1: ten shotgun. We never mentioned why we wanted them, probably
Speaker 1: because we knew he'd rail into us for going after
Speaker 1: a bear, and our thirteen year old selves weren't exactly
Speaker 1: eager to piss off an old salty marine. A while later,
Speaker 1: we made it back to the spot where we saw
Speaker 1: the bear, but when we didn't see anything, we decided
Speaker 1: to trek onward to the river. We made it there
Speaker 1: without any excitement, which was disappointing. We'd been looking around
Speaker 1: the whole time for that bear or any kind of
Speaker 1: a critter determined to shoot something, but the opportunity never came.
Speaker 1: After wandering around and playing with sticks, we headed home
Speaker 1: and halfway back that rancid smell hit us again. It
Speaker 1: was terrible. We started looking for a skunk, because at
Speaker 1: the time that's as wild as our imaginations went, as
Speaker 1: far as horrible stenches, though the smell of a skunk
Speaker 1: or even a dead riding animal would have been a
Speaker 1: sweet relief compared to this. We kept looking and there
Speaker 1: was the bear again. Immediately we pointed our guns at it,
Speaker 1: ready to take it down, but we never stood a chance.
Speaker 1: It stood upright over six feet tall, and it started
Speaker 1: charging at us on two legs, it's two long arms
Speaker 1: swinging at its side. That thing was not a bear.
Speaker 1: It had no ears like a bear, and its eyes
Speaker 1: were in front of its face. Its face was beige
Speaker 1: and its hair was shaggy and black. Basically a big, black,
Speaker 1: furry swamp thing was coming right at us. When we
Speaker 1: realized how big it was, we ran for our lives
Speaker 1: and high tailed it out of there. The only other
Speaker 1: time in my whole life that I ran that fast
Speaker 1: was when I ran from the police once in my
Speaker 1: later years. Well, we got back to the trailer. We
Speaker 1: found my dad and uncle out front drinking, and when
Speaker 1: I started yelling, they came off the porch to see
Speaker 1: what was going on and what we were running from.
Speaker 1: It's a foot, I shouted, well, how do you know that,
Speaker 1: one of them asked, because it looked like a bigfoot
Speaker 1: from the pizza commercial. That's how I yelled. They started
Speaker 1: to brush our story off and told us it was
Speaker 1: just a bear. But right then, in the distance behind us,
Speaker 1: we heard a loud and deep growl. You see you
Speaker 1: ever hear a bear sound like that? I asked them,
Speaker 1: knowing they sure as hell hadn't, but would call us
Speaker 1: crazy anyway, which is just what they did. They called
Speaker 1: us crazy, and they asked if we had smoked a joint,
Speaker 1: and they told us to stay around the house and
Speaker 1: that they would go looking for it later. I'm not
Speaker 1: sure if they ever did that, though. Fifteen years later,
Speaker 1: my cousins and I were out drinking when this story
Speaker 1: came up. Still today, we were all certain that it
Speaker 1: was a bigfoot or a swamp ape. I was researching
Speaker 1: bigfoot sightings the other night, and sure enough, there was
Speaker 1: a sighting reported just north of U at this location
Speaker 1: some years later right by my uncle's trailer. I sure
Speaker 1: hope my uncle, here's the story. Not too crazy after all,
Speaker 1: is it Uncle that's going to wind it up for
Speaker 1: this podcast. Thanks for listening all the way to this end.
Speaker 1: I'm sorry I didn't put any commentary with these stories.
Speaker 1: They were all so good. But again, I am busy
Speaker 1: at work and I'm in here early in the morning
Speaker 1: trying to crank these out because these stories are just
Speaker 1: too good not to put out there for you to hear.
Speaker 1: I hope you enjoyed it, and we'll see you guys
Speaker 1: on the next one. Thank you.