Speaker 1: I never dreamt in a million years that I would
Speaker 1: ever have an experience, let alone speak of it. But
Speaker 1: I feel comfortable to tell it. The only ones who
Speaker 1: know about it are my mother, my son, my daughter,
Speaker 1: and myself and now you. I am a believer of
Speaker 1: many things. I believe in the paranormal. I believe that
Speaker 1: dreams come true. I believe people may have seen something,
Speaker 1: but a bigfoot. I wasn't sure what to think of this.
Speaker 1: I wasn't sure until twenty fifteen. That is. We moved
Speaker 1: from Houston to Central Texas, and the way best to
Speaker 1: describe it was it was a neighborhood, but it was
Speaker 1: a country version of a neighborhood, where each property was
Speaker 1: at least an acre, give or take. We had wildlife
Speaker 1: out there, and I was quite excited to see wild
Speaker 1: deer in our front yard. And of course we would
Speaker 1: hear a bobcat and hear codes occasionally. I am a
Speaker 1: single mom of two beautiful adult children. My youngest girl
Speaker 1: has a disability. It's like dealing with a giant four
Speaker 1: year old. I'm very close to my mother, and we
Speaker 1: all decided that we wanted to live together. We moved
Speaker 1: into a huge four bedroom manufactured home, and let's just
Speaker 1: say that we could meet in the kitchen and would
Speaker 1: be halfway through the house, and basically each side of
Speaker 1: the home had the privacy of a two bedroom apartment.
Speaker 1: One night, I was outside with my son walking one
Speaker 1: of our German shepherds. I adore German shepherds, and we
Speaker 1: have three of them and a pit bull puppy, and
Speaker 1: they're all rescues. We spend a lot of time outside.
Speaker 1: One of the gentlemen that used to live around the
Speaker 1: neighborhood stopped in the road and he told us that
Speaker 1: we shouldn't be out there in the night. In his words,
Speaker 1: there's a big animal that roams around here. We assumed
Speaker 1: that he was either messing with us or he was
Speaker 1: talking about a big coyote or even a mountain lion
Speaker 1: that had been seen in the town next to us.
Speaker 1: My son and I said, thank you, but I think
Speaker 1: we'll be okay. He said, trust me, you won't be
Speaker 1: if this thing comes out. At that point we knew
Speaker 1: he was being over dramatic. Maybe he was even drunk.
Speaker 1: One night, my son was out and I was in
Speaker 1: the kitchen having a cup of coffee with my mother
Speaker 1: and talking about some plans we had. The following day,
Speaker 1: my daughter came in and announced that she saw a
Speaker 1: big man looking in her window. We assumed that she
Speaker 1: had been dreaming, and we treated it like that. She said, no, Mom,
Speaker 1: it was a big man outside he was looking in.
Speaker 1: It's a monster man. My mother mentioned that my son
Speaker 1: had been allowing her to watch scary mo movies while
Speaker 1: he was supposed to be watching her, and now she
Speaker 1: was having nightmares. So I asked what did the monster
Speaker 1: look like, and she said that he had red eyes
Speaker 1: that glowed in long hair on his face, that he
Speaker 1: looked really scary. Well, none of that made sense, but
Speaker 1: she slept with her grandmother that night and all was quiet.
Speaker 1: My daughter attends the school for adults with disabilities. My
Speaker 1: mother had taken her there the next morning, and I
Speaker 1: asked my son if he had allowed his sister to
Speaker 1: watch a scary movie. He said, no, Mom, I would
Speaker 1: never do that. I told him what she said, and
Speaker 1: my son became concerned and looked around the house and
Speaker 1: under the window, but we found no evidence of anything
Speaker 1: being there. Four nights later, while my son was out
Speaker 1: walking our shepherd, he caught a horrible odor in the area.
Speaker 1: We assumed it was a septic tank, but my son
Speaker 1: said the odor was much worse than that. Suddenly, the
Speaker 1: dogs began to growl and pace around at the front door.
Speaker 1: They wanted out. They did this when they knew deer
Speaker 1: were in the yard, and I was afraid they were
Speaker 1: going to start barking and annoy us for the next hour.
Speaker 1: But they never did bark. They acted different than when
Speaker 1: a deer was close. Their hackles were raised and they
Speaker 1: were all growling, a really strange growl. I had never
Speaker 1: heard them do this. I pushed past the dogs to
Speaker 1: look out the window, fully expecting to see deer in
Speaker 1: the yard, but instead I saw what looked like a
Speaker 1: giant man. It took a step forward, and it triggered
Speaker 1: the motion lights on the front of the house, and
Speaker 1: there it was fully illuminated in the glow of the
Speaker 1: security light. I could not speak or move. I think
Speaker 1: my mouth was hanging open trying to speak, but I
Speaker 1: couldn't form the words. My son was beside me, looking
Speaker 1: out the adjacent window. He immediately reached for me and
Speaker 1: pulled me away from the door and closed everything up,
Speaker 1: and then he checked all the locks. My mom yelled
Speaker 1: and said to call the police. And my response was, so,
Speaker 1: what are we gonna say? What do I say, mom?
Speaker 1: That a monster was in my front yard. My son
Speaker 1: had left the room, and soon he returned loading his
Speaker 1: grandfather's deer rifle, and then we heard a gunshot in
Speaker 1: the distance and everything got quiet. We never went out
Speaker 1: to investigate, and that night was a fitful night of sleep.
Speaker 1: Not much of us got any sleep at all. And
Speaker 1: I don't know what got into the dogs, but for
Speaker 1: the rest of the night they stayed away from the
Speaker 1: front door. Maybe they recognized the odor, or maybe they
Speaker 1: knew what this thing was, but they were not interested
Speaker 1: in going out. Still today they will not go out
Speaker 1: into the front yard, only out back, where they are
Speaker 1: inside a fence. The following day we ran into that
Speaker 1: strange neighbor. My son and I had seen that one
Speaker 1: night and had stopped by and he said, I told
Speaker 1: you that thing was big, didn't I? And I asked,
Speaker 1: what was that thing? And he said, you saw it,
Speaker 1: didn't you? You know what it was? And then he
Speaker 1: drove away. It was really weird. After that night, we
Speaker 1: never saw it again. There are times when I think
Speaker 1: it was near, though. The dogs always let us know
Speaker 1: when something was not right. News reports were on TV
Speaker 1: about bigfoot sightings in central Texas soon after this happened,
Speaker 1: and they continued sporadically for a year. Even after seeing
Speaker 1: the creature that night and then backed up by the
Speaker 1: strange man and the news reports, I still had a
Speaker 1: hard time believing that it was a bigfoot. I rationalized
Speaker 1: that it was a prank. We live in a college town,
Speaker 1: and maybe I thought some local kids were just playing
Speaker 1: a joe. But I remember how big this thing was,
Speaker 1: every bit of eight to nine feet tall, and it
Speaker 1: was very broad in the shoulders, and there were those
Speaker 1: red eyes. They were not fake, they were real. I
Speaker 1: don't know any college kids that are eight or nine
Speaker 1: feet tall, so I rule that out. The reports I
Speaker 1: saw on the local news and on the internet began
Speaker 1: to concern me, and I began to believe that it
Speaker 1: was a bigfoot. We have become believers since then. We
Speaker 1: didn't stay there much longer. Within a year, we moved away,
Speaker 1: not because of the bigfoot. We made the decision to
Speaker 1: get closer to the city for my daughter and my mother.
Speaker 1: I have not discussed this with anyone outside the family.
Speaker 1: This is the first time that I have made the
Speaker 1: event known. It feels good to get it off my chest,
Speaker 1: but I will admit that as I type this, the
Speaker 1: memories and panic of that night are flooding back. My
Speaker 1: hands are shaking here on the keyboard. It was all
Speaker 1: so shocking, and then when I saw my son walking
Speaker 1: in the room loading that rifle, I knew things were serious.
Speaker 1: After careful thoult though I do not think the creature
Speaker 1: meant us any harm. It made no aggressive gestures towards us.
Speaker 1: I think it may have been passing through or just wandering,
Speaker 1: and our yard provoked its curiosity. Thanks for allowing me
Speaker 1: to share my story, Signed Angela. I spent my teenage
Speaker 1: years growing up in the nineteen seventies outside of New
Speaker 1: York City and the cement covered suburbs. As teenagers, me
Speaker 1: and my buddies were fascinated with anything to do with Bigfoot.
Speaker 1: The legend of Boggy Creek and the Leonard Knemoy Bigfoot
Speaker 1: documentaries with Patterson. Film was about all we had to
Speaker 1: learn about these creatures, and most of the time we
Speaker 1: had to go to Saturday Nay's to see a re
Speaker 1: release of these films. We didn't have YouTube in those days.
Speaker 1: From everything we knew Bigfoots inhabited the woods, mountains and
Speaker 1: forests that stretched from northern California to British Columbia, and
Speaker 1: that was their territory. Even Boggy Creek, a story from
Speaker 1: the swamps of Texas Counta, Arkansas, was told as a
Speaker 1: weird folk tale of a three toed creature, and it
Speaker 1: was never identified as a bigfoot. It was only when
Speaker 1: I started college that I would learn this was incorrect.
Speaker 1: Bigfoots live a lot closer to my New York home,
Speaker 1: something that haunts me to this day. My encounter took
Speaker 1: place in nineteen eighty and I need to provide some
Speaker 1: background to the encounter. The group of us that grew
Speaker 1: up together were what you would call city slicker, good
Speaker 1: old boys. We lived in the city, but were all
Speaker 1: born with a longing for the the country in the woods.
Speaker 1: We were commuter and community college brethren. We all had
Speaker 1: CBE radios in our cars with handles and everything. This
Speaker 1: was during the Burt Reynolds phase of male bonding, and
Speaker 1: it kept the group of four of us pretty much
Speaker 1: tight together during our college years. One of our group, NICKI,
Speaker 1: was a seasoned deer hunter and had been hunting his
Speaker 1: family's upstate property since he was twelve. His parents owned
Speaker 1: a two bedroom hunter's cabin set on thirty five acres
Speaker 1: in the Catskill Mountains, one hundred and twenty miles north
Speaker 1: of New York City. We would visit Nicky's cabin on
Speaker 1: occasion when deer season had ended and get away from civilization.
Speaker 1: We had fun initiating other New York friends to nature
Speaker 1: by taking tough talking city folk up there and seeing
Speaker 1: if we could scare them enough so the tough guys
Speaker 1: would wet their pants. One easy way that we would
Speaker 1: scare the tough guys and see what they were made of.
Speaker 1: We would hike up the mountain just behind the cabin,
Speaker 1: and on the way down, one of us at the
Speaker 1: end of the line would tossh rock sideways into the
Speaker 1: woods adjacent to the trail, giving the impression that we
Speaker 1: were being stalked by a mountain lion. We lost a
Speaker 1: lot of city slickers that way. Most would never make
Speaker 1: a return trip, and we had many lives over this.
Speaker 1: Imagine Rocky Balboa in a leather jacket walking the woods,
Speaker 1: imagining he's about to be attacked by a mountain lion,
Speaker 1: and then asking to go home. You get the picture.
Speaker 1: In nineteen eighty, right after college midterms, it was just
Speaker 1: Nicky and I. We made the rounds of the local
Speaker 1: convenience stores and stocked the snow bank with some beer,
Speaker 1: coal cuts, and provisions. We lit up the Franklin stove
Speaker 1: and then had more than a few adult beverages before
Speaker 1: turning in. We each took a bedroom. I had the
Speaker 1: bedroom with the window facing the stream. I loved this
Speaker 1: room In the summer when I was lucky enough to
Speaker 1: get it. The sounds of the stream flowing came through
Speaker 1: the open window and would put me to sleep, like
Speaker 1: watching golf on TV. But April was still too chilly
Speaker 1: for open windows in the Catskulls. In the middle of
Speaker 1: the night, I felt myself being woken up by NICKI.
Speaker 1: He was saying that he was hearing some noise rustling
Speaker 1: on the cabin's porch. I didn't pay it any mine.
Speaker 1: I thought he was messing with me, which made him
Speaker 1: get a bit angry. When he finally had my attention,
Speaker 1: I listened, and I thought it was just raccoons. It
Speaker 1: wasn't unusual for raccoons to overlook the mothball snow bank
Speaker 1: and smell the food inside the cabin and look for
Speaker 1: a way to get in. So we clang two cast
Speaker 1: iron pots together and everything quieted down, and that was that.
Speaker 1: The next day we woke up together and found some
Speaker 1: raccoon tracks on the porch, proving my point. We ate
Speaker 1: breakfast and practiced our shooting skills in the pasture, knocking
Speaker 1: cans and bottles off the fence, and then joking how
Speaker 1: a raccoon didn't have a chance against us, But in
Speaker 1: reality I must say that the raccoon did have a
Speaker 1: great chance. And though we were familiar with firearms, where
Speaker 1: we lived didn't provide much opportunity for practice, and it
Speaker 1: showed because at the beginning of each gun outing I
Speaker 1: could not hit the side of a barn with a
Speaker 1: dead cat, and only improved to nicking a bottle at
Speaker 1: twenty yards with a twenty two after a few hours
Speaker 1: of practice. However, a twelve gage shotgun on improved cylinder
Speaker 1: choked could make anyone feel like Sergeant Yorke. The rest
Speaker 1: of the day was more of the same, and we
Speaker 1: settled in for a good meal, a pan of seer
Speaker 1: chicken and pasta and wine and one too many wild
Speaker 1: turkey shots for dessert. One thing Italian guys can do,
Speaker 1: even in the Sahara desert, is find a way to
Speaker 1: make some good pasta. That evening, in the middle of
Speaker 1: the night, Nikki woke me again to say the raccoon
Speaker 1: had returned. I was a bit tick, this time him
Speaker 1: being the deer hunter, suggesting he scared the raccoon off
Speaker 1: by himself. Forget the twenty two. He knows the drill.
Speaker 1: I didn't hear the pots, and then, thinking about it,
Speaker 1: the rifle option would lead to an unwanted cleaning of
Speaker 1: a raccoon drill. Thankfully, I didn't hear the twenty two
Speaker 1: or the port sounds, and I went back to sleep
Speaker 1: on my wild turkey. The next morning, I woke early
Speaker 1: and decided I would do one of my rituals. I
Speaker 1: would hike the trail behind the mountain alone, which I
Speaker 1: would often do in the summer to work off the
Speaker 1: pasta in the wild turkey, and then I would come
Speaker 1: back and make a mean ham and egg breakfast. This
Speaker 1: would be an apology for not helping with the raccoons.
Speaker 1: After all, that was his cabin and I wanted to
Speaker 1: come back to this play. I grabbed my walking stick
Speaker 1: and I told half sleeping Nikki that I was going
Speaker 1: to do my hike and that i'd be back in
Speaker 1: a while and he could make coffee, but leave the
Speaker 1: breakfast to me. I headed out to the porch and
Speaker 1: I found it covered not in raccoon prints, but lumps
Speaker 1: of sandy dirt. It was like someone squashed a few
Speaker 1: ant mounds on the porch. In retrospect, there weren't any
Speaker 1: signs of footprints or anything that would give me pauls
Speaker 1: to investigate. There were no bear tracks, though I knew
Speaker 1: enough that any black bear mama probably would not drag
Speaker 1: her cubs onto a porch with humans. Maybe a New
Speaker 1: Jersey black bear, but not one of the catskills. Still,
Speaker 1: I didn't see any bear or mountain lion tracks, and
Speaker 1: I had seen both in my travels to the cabin,
Speaker 1: So off I went on my height thirty minutes up
Speaker 1: the trail. Just over a mile up the mountain behind
Speaker 1: the cabin, I noticed a pile of wood occupying the trail.
Speaker 1: This struck me since the trail was maybe twenty or
Speaker 1: twenty five yards wide and the wood debris pile looks
Speaker 1: like it was deliberately placed there more In fact, they
Speaker 1: looked inder woven, like a nest of the way you
Speaker 1: would see a beaver dam. At this point, I looked
Speaker 1: at the stream on my right and I found it
Speaker 1: almost dry. I thought a beaver might have built a
Speaker 1: dam on the stream, and this could be a problem.
Speaker 1: If the dam were large enough and broke, it could
Speaker 1: reroute the stream directly toward the cabin below. So I
Speaker 1: slowly approached to investigate. I heard a water slapping sound
Speaker 1: like a beaver's tail on the water before diving. I
Speaker 1: was still walking uphill and where the beaver chose to
Speaker 1: build this dam was one of the only flat areas
Speaker 1: that the stream flows, but not typically wide enough for
Speaker 1: a dam in a pond. As I climbed, I saw
Speaker 1: a tough to fur over a mound, and then it disappeared.
Speaker 1: I climbed to investigate the level area. It was a
Speaker 1: modest dam and lodge. The pond could only have measured
Speaker 1: one hundred feet long and maybe forty feet wide, pretty
Speaker 1: small for a beaver. And even though I hadn't been
Speaker 1: there since last summer and Nicky was there during deer season,
Speaker 1: the dam could have been there a while, but it
Speaker 1: looked like new construction. It was the only extended flat
Speaker 1: spot on this trail until you reach the mountaintop. I
Speaker 1: was excited about the prospect of seeing a beaver build
Speaker 1: his dam and lodge, so I walked quietly and was
Speaker 1: able to walk around it. I watched it for some
Speaker 1: time while not disturbing anything, and suddenly, from deep off
Speaker 1: the side of the lodge, I heard a loud branch snap.
Speaker 1: I thought the beaver was at work and out of sight.
Speaker 1: I should let him be. After hiking further up the mountain,
Speaker 1: I visited an old abandoned cabin that I knew about,
Speaker 1: and I looked at the larger hilltop pond. It looked
Speaker 1: the same. It was two hundred feet wide, and I
Speaker 1: wondered why the beaver didn't build his lodge there, And
Speaker 1: then I decided to head back down. I approached the
Speaker 1: part of the trail and stream that leads to where
Speaker 1: the beaver pond was, and I began humming loudly, sounding
Speaker 1: out song words to make myself heard. I didn't want
Speaker 1: to mess with a beaver, even though they're slower on land.
Speaker 1: I knew that their territorial and could have a mean
Speaker 1: streak when you approach them or when they're surprised. When
Speaker 1: I was fifty yards away. My jaw dropped when I
Speaker 1: saw the outline of a black bear sniffing around the
Speaker 1: beaver lodge. I stopped and was gripping my walking stick,
Speaker 1: wishing I had the shotgun. I was worried. I stumbled
Speaker 1: on a mama black bear with some cubs nearby, so
Speaker 1: I looked around, but I didn't see any black bears.
Speaker 1: And mountain lions are the most dangerous things in these parts,
Speaker 1: and black bears are more violent with people than grizzlies
Speaker 1: or brown bears. I did have the small pond separating
Speaker 1: me and the bear, but the bear looked strange in
Speaker 1: the shadows of the morning forest canopy. It acted uninterested
Speaker 1: in me and my noise, and more interested in the
Speaker 1: dam and pond. And then it stood up and it
Speaker 1: wasn't a bear. My mind drew a blank. I was
Speaker 1: looking at a seven foot broad shouldered monkey. I couldn't
Speaker 1: believe what my eyes were seeing. I am six foot
Speaker 1: one and the width of this thing was from my
Speaker 1: toes to my chest about three feet plus. I admit
Speaker 1: that I thought for one split second that Nicky had
Speaker 1: pulled the greatest prank on me, but This was a
Speaker 1: costume no one I knew could fit inside or mate.
Speaker 1: And the way the skin and muscles moved under its
Speaker 1: silky black fur, this was no costume. Whatever it was,
Speaker 1: it was definitely a male and well over seven feet tall.
Speaker 1: It probably weighed five hundred pounds. There was only two
Speaker 1: hundred feet between me and this thing. Now I could
Speaker 1: make out its face. It was a cross between a
Speaker 1: gorilla and a man. Its skin was gray, like a gorilla,
Speaker 1: protruding nostrils and mouth. There was a large brow ridge,
Speaker 1: and the lips were more like that of a human
Speaker 1: compared to a chimp. Well, I was half confused, since
Speaker 1: I thought bigfoots only lived in the Pacific Northwest. They
Speaker 1: weren't one hundred and twenty miles north of New York City.
Speaker 1: Well I stared at it for an eternity, and the
Speaker 1: creature raised its arm and grabbed a tree to its side,
Speaker 1: and I watched how it wrapped its fingers around the
Speaker 1: trunk of that tree. I didn't smell anything, and then
Speaker 1: the creature began slowly swaying side to side, always gripping
Speaker 1: the tree trunk and pulling himself closer to the tree
Speaker 1: with its right hand and then pushing out. Its eyes
Speaker 1: were on me the whole time. If it wanted to
Speaker 1: come at me, it would either breach the pond or
Speaker 1: move fast to get around it. So I never moved.
Speaker 1: My only defense was my three foot walking stick that
Speaker 1: I was clutching like the grim Reaper, and regretting that
Speaker 1: I didn't have my forty five or even my twelve gage.
Speaker 1: Looking at the size of this thing, I thought my
Speaker 1: forty five would have been suicide. This thing would get
Speaker 1: to me before the bullets did their final damage. I
Speaker 1: was calm, though now I began to sense that this
Speaker 1: thing didn't want to hurt me. It never growled or screamed.
Speaker 1: It just rocked back and forth into that one tree
Speaker 1: that it was grabbing. Suddenly, it pulled itself in one
Speaker 1: swinging twirl motion to the other side of the tree
Speaker 1: it was holding, turned its back to me, and it
Speaker 1: walked off. I slowly moved down the side of the
Speaker 1: pond opposite the side where I spotted the animal. I
Speaker 1: couldn't see it, and I didn't hear it. I didn't
Speaker 1: want to see it again, but I had to watch
Speaker 1: for it. I know. The only thought I had in
Speaker 1: my mind was to get the hell out of that
Speaker 1: place as soon as possible. Not just that trail, I
Speaker 1: had to get off that mountain and away from that cabin.
Speaker 1: I practically ran to the cabin, aided by the downhill slope.
Speaker 1: I nearly fell a few times, but I made it
Speaker 1: down in record time. When I got back, Nikki was
Speaker 1: still sleeping. I gathered my thoughts and I decided I
Speaker 1: wasn't saying anything about this, but I needed an escape plan.
Speaker 1: I cooked breakfast like nothing was wrong, but Nicky knew
Speaker 1: something was up. After breakfast, instead of shooting, I suggested
Speaker 1: we go into town and get something that I needed
Speaker 1: for dinner. We buzzed off and I went off to
Speaker 1: a payphone, and I came back with a story of
Speaker 1: a sick relative in the hospital and that I needed
Speaker 1: to head back. Well. He was bummed, but he understood.
Speaker 1: We packed up and left right after lunch. I never
Speaker 1: mentioned the pond or the beaver dam. I didn't want
Speaker 1: to go back and investigate. I never said anything about
Speaker 1: what I saw, and I never went back to that
Speaker 1: cabin again. A few days after getting back, Nicki and
Speaker 1: I talked and he apologized. He thought I wanted to
Speaker 1: get home because he was bugging me about the raccoons.
Speaker 1: A friend can always tell when a friend isn't right.
Speaker 1: We were good after that. During dear season, I would
Speaker 1: be asking Nicki for hunt stories, waiting to hopefully hear
Speaker 1: a story of a bigfoot sighting from a hunter. There
Speaker 1: were none. Instead, I was invited to get my license
Speaker 1: and join their hunting party. No thanks. In hindsight, in
Speaker 1: researching the creature, we've had an aggressive bigfoot living about
Speaker 1: two hundred miles north of my sighting in Whitehall Mountain
Speaker 1: near Lake George. Also, the one I saw, his side
Speaker 1: to side moving gesture looks somewhat playful, but it's a
Speaker 1: Semian act of agitation and aggression. So the bigfoot that
Speaker 1: I saw was annoyed. He wasn't swinging back and forth
Speaker 1: in playfulness. I think he was targeting and hunting the
Speaker 1: beaver that built the dam, and I was interfering with
Speaker 1: his hunt. I think the beaver chose that spot instead
Speaker 1: of the larger pond to avoid what was stalking him.
Speaker 1: I think the bigfoot I saw didn't growl or scream
Speaker 1: at me because it's since it was close to a
Speaker 1: meal of a beaver and its sounds might have signaled
Speaker 1: other creatures. I really don't know about that. When I
Speaker 1: heard the crack to the side on my hike up
Speaker 1: the mountain and passing the down, I think that was
Speaker 1: the bigfoot on the side woods trying to get rid
Speaker 1: of me. Maybe he was on the cabin porch that night.
Speaker 1: I'll never know, and we'll never tell. I will never
Speaker 1: go back to the woods alone and unarmed with anything
Speaker 1: less than a forty five. On at least three occasions
Speaker 1: since being married, this sighting has impacted me with a
Speaker 1: PTSD like night terror. I have had nightmares of a
Speaker 1: bigfoot stalking either me or my wife and kids. And
Speaker 1: this may sound insane, but it's true. I would make
Speaker 1: a growling animal attack noise, screaming at the bigfoot like
Speaker 1: an animal at the top of my lungs in a
Speaker 1: defensive posture, letting it know that I'm not choosing to flight,
Speaker 1: I'm choosing to fight, hoping that this will back the
Speaker 1: creature off. All of this was happening in my dreams,
Speaker 1: but my snarls and growls would increase in volume and
Speaker 1: grow until I would scream like a wild man, eventually
Speaker 1: scaring the crap out of my wife and She would
Speaker 1: shake me to snap me out of the dream. She
Speaker 1: thought I was turning into a wolfman in my growling antics.
Speaker 1: The last time this happened, I woke up the entire house,
Speaker 1: my wife and our six year old son and our
Speaker 1: nine year old daughter. We gave the kids a funny
Speaker 1: nightmare story, but my wife knows the real story. She
Speaker 1: encouraged me to share this as a form of therapy
Speaker 1: so she can sleep in peace without any wolfman dream visits.
Speaker 1: And I still live in the suburbs of the city,
Speaker 1: only now I'm the one who was scared by something
Speaker 1: that was actually very real. Thank you for the channel,
Speaker 1: and may God bless you for giving folks like me
Speaker 1: an anonymous outlet to get something off our minds.