Speaker 1: This encounter happened just a short time ago. I was
Speaker 1: out in the National Forest. I was searching for a
Speaker 1: good hunting spot for the upcoming deer season, and I
Speaker 1: parked my truck in a small stone lot and proceeded
Speaker 1: into the woods. I'm kind of a knucklehead because when
Speaker 1: I'm hunting, I don't follow man made trails. By the way,
Speaker 1: let me tell you this takes place in Alaska. I'll
Speaker 1: cut through the bush until I find a game trail,
Speaker 1: and then I'll try to follow it further away from civilization. Anyway,
Speaker 1: this day was no different. I walked through the woods
Speaker 1: and hit a promising looking trail, and I took off.
Speaker 1: After two hours, I stopped for a break. My back
Speaker 1: was starting to hurt because I spent most of that
Speaker 1: time been overlooking for tracks. I picked a small boulder
Speaker 1: to sit against. It was warm, and I was tired,
Speaker 1: and I naturally fell asleep. I have no idea how
Speaker 1: long I was out, but a loud thrashing in the
Speaker 1: woods behind the boulder startled me awake. I've been in combat,
Speaker 1: I've learned to wake up instantly and quietly. Whatever was
Speaker 1: thrashing around behind me had to be big, and I
Speaker 1: slowly started to peep over the rock, hoping to see
Speaker 1: a huge buck tearing the crap out of a tree.
Speaker 1: But just before my head cleared the boulder, everything stopped.
Speaker 1: I froze, and everything got quiet, the kind of quiet
Speaker 1: just before the chainsaw starts in a horror movie. Two
Speaker 1: things happened. I heard a sneeze and instinctively said God,
Speaker 1: bless you. As soon as the words left my mouth,
Speaker 1: I regretted it, but there was an instantaneous rushing of
Speaker 1: something large through the woods. I stood up quickly and
Speaker 1: looked for the deer, and I'm sure I had spooked it.
Speaker 1: I was surprised not to see one, but two hairy
Speaker 1: creatures running away from me at a rapid clip. They
Speaker 1: weren't at all muscular, but they were both six or
Speaker 1: seven feet tall. They have the same hair color as
Speaker 1: the male my daughter had seen earlier. They didn't stop,
Speaker 1: and I soon lost sight of them. Going around the boulder,
Speaker 1: I saw the ground torn up in an area twelve
Speaker 1: feet across, and there were footprints that measured fifteen inches.
Speaker 1: My guess is that after I fell asleep, two juveniles
Speaker 1: had wandered into the area had decided to have themselves
Speaker 1: a wrestling match. I regret that I did not take
Speaker 1: my phone into the woods that day because pictures of
Speaker 1: the prints in the area they tore up would at
Speaker 1: least somewhat corroborate my story. I have contemplated writing you
Speaker 1: for quite a while, but the more of your videos
Speaker 1: I've listened to, the more I know. I didn't imagine
Speaker 1: or dream the events that have happened to me over
Speaker 1: the past fifty seven years, so I decided to go
Speaker 1: and send them. It is difficult to understand why why me.
Speaker 1: Northeastern Oklahoma is what the locals call green Country. It's
Speaker 1: a rural and woodsy place that rolls into the Ozarks
Speaker 1: of northwest Arkansas. It was here, when I was seven
Speaker 1: that it all began. I was a bed wetter. Fear
Speaker 1: of punishment for this made me somewhat restless at night.
Speaker 1: On this particular night, I was dreaming that I was
Speaker 1: on the toilet. Quickly and unconsciously, I told myself to
Speaker 1: wake up. The thought of a fresh green sapling switch
Speaker 1: on my rear end and legs jolted me into an
Speaker 1: upright position. As soon as I sat up, I had
Speaker 1: an odd feeling like I was being watched. The bed
Speaker 1: that I shared with my little sister Nita sat against
Speaker 1: the wall perpendicular to a large double window that looked
Speaker 1: out onto a long cement porch that ran the entire
Speaker 1: length of the front of our house. The moonlight coming
Speaker 1: through the window lit up the room well enough that
Speaker 1: I could see that Nita had rolled off the bed
Speaker 1: and was pressed up against it in a deep sleep
Speaker 1: on the floor. I looked down and slowly placed my
Speaker 1: foot over her to get out of bed, and that's
Speaker 1: when I heard a tapping sound at the window, which
Speaker 1: was now behind me. I glanced back over my shoulder,
Speaker 1: and I got the shock of my life. He was
Speaker 1: looking right at me. The moon was shining behind him,
Speaker 1: and it gave an almost halo effect to the head
Speaker 1: and shoulders of this man. His dark eyes seemed to
Speaker 1: sparkle as he smiled at me. It was more like
Speaker 1: a grimace. He had a wide mouth with not much limp,
Speaker 1: but it was enough to show his teeth. They were
Speaker 1: like mine, but they were only larger. His hair was
Speaker 1: long and silvery, mixed with some black and brown. Except
Speaker 1: for the roots, they were almost white. His beard and
Speaker 1: the hair on his shoulders shone silvery in the dim light.
Speaker 1: I was confused. I had never seen such a hairy
Speaker 1: man before. As far as I could tell, he wasn't
Speaker 1: wearing a shirt. His nose was flat, and his head
Speaker 1: was a little pointy. I thought that was weird, and
Speaker 1: I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was still sleeping and
Speaker 1: this was a dream. And then I felt Nita move
Speaker 1: at my feet, and I looked down and I realized
Speaker 1: this was no dream. I heard it grunt then, and
Speaker 1: it sounded like the hogs my uncle kept down by
Speaker 1: the barn. I looked back at the hairy man in
Speaker 1: the window, and I thought how short he was. Until
Speaker 1: he stood up, all I could see were legs. I
Speaker 1: never moved so fast in my life. I left over
Speaker 1: Nita and I hit the floor, crawling as fast as
Speaker 1: I could to reach the doorway to the hall. We
Speaker 1: didn't have an actual door yet, the house was still
Speaker 1: on under construction, but I knew once I reached the
Speaker 1: hallway the hairyman couldn't see me anymore. My heart was
Speaker 1: beating in my ears, and I asked myself, was this
Speaker 1: really happening. I sat there with my back pressed against
Speaker 1: the wall and gathering my courage to peep back around
Speaker 1: into the bedroom. The window was empty. He was gone.
Speaker 1: I was on the fence about whether or not to
Speaker 1: tell my aunt and uncle who I lived with, about
Speaker 1: what I had seen. Having been somewhat of a victim
Speaker 1: of child abuse, I decided not to wake them for
Speaker 1: fear that I would receive a beating of my life. Unfortunately,
Speaker 1: I had that kind of childhood. The next morning, I
Speaker 1: went out to the porch to see where the hairy
Speaker 1: man had first kneeled and then stood on the brick
Speaker 1: ledge of the window sill. There were three rocks. I
Speaker 1: thought nothing of it at the time, but now I
Speaker 1: wonder if there were some kind of gift. I think
Speaker 1: of this series of events in my life as the following,
Speaker 1: so that's what I call it. It seems like that's
Speaker 1: what happened. Whatever it is, it seems to have followed
Speaker 1: me throughout my life. The encounter that was shared with
Speaker 1: me is one that sticks with me, not only because
Speaker 1: of the experience, but because of who told it to me.
Speaker 1: I've not told this story very many times, but after
Speaker 1: listening to several of your videos, I decided to try
Speaker 1: and share it as best that I can remember it.
Speaker 1: Back in the late eighties and early nineties, I became
Speaker 1: very good friends with a Southern Baptist preacher. He led
Speaker 1: me to the Lord during this time and we became
Speaker 1: great friends. We're the same age, and we both shared
Speaker 1: a love of outdoors. We cone hunted and we trapped,
Speaker 1: and we fished together, as well as doing outreach for
Speaker 1: the church where he was a pastor that I attended.
Speaker 1: October evening, he called me after I got home from
Speaker 1: work and asked me if I would drive him so
Speaker 1: that he could finish preaching the last night of a
Speaker 1: revival at a church about an hour and a half
Speaker 1: to the west of the community where we lived. He'd
Speaker 1: been fighting a fierce cold all week and had taken
Speaker 1: some pretty strong medication. He didn't want to be a
Speaker 1: hazard to himself or anyone else by trying to drive.
Speaker 1: Of course I agreed to take him. We only lived
Speaker 1: a few miles apart on some back roads, and he
Speaker 1: felt he'd be okay to travel the short distance to
Speaker 1: my house and we would leave from there. We traveled
Speaker 1: to the church where he was preaching that night. I
Speaker 1: think between getting a little something to eat on the
Speaker 1: way over, the medicine he took and God giving him
Speaker 1: the strength. He went on to preach one of the
Speaker 1: best messages I'd ever heard him preach. After the service
Speaker 1: had ended and we set our goodbyes, we proceeded to
Speaker 1: travel back home. While traveling back home in my truck,
Speaker 1: we talked about a little of everything, starting out, especially
Speaker 1: about our excitement for the upcoming hunting and trapping season.
Speaker 1: I've always had an interest in Bigfoot encryptid type story
Speaker 1: since I was a kid, and to this day, I
Speaker 1: love to hear accounts of local legends and happenings that
Speaker 1: most every small community seemed to have. After a pause
Speaker 1: in our conversation, I had a random thought about a
Speaker 1: story that I heard as a kid. It's a well
Speaker 1: known and documented story about the Infield horror. The story
Speaker 1: made local and national news at the time it was
Speaker 1: happening in the early seventies. I won't go into detail
Speaker 1: about it here. There are plenty of stories online about this.
Speaker 1: I wanted to ask my pastor friend about it because
Speaker 1: he grew up not far from where all this occurred.
Speaker 1: I brought it up in a half joking manner. He
Speaker 1: laughed and said that it was a crazy time with
Speaker 1: the stories of sightings of the monster. He also commented
Speaker 1: that it was a dangerous time as well because of
Speaker 1: the truckloads of monster hunters riding around with firearms. Still
Speaker 1: half joking, I asked him if he believed that there
Speaker 1: was anything to it, or was it on the overdone side.
Speaker 1: My friend got real quiet and reflective for a moment.
Speaker 1: He said, I don't know about all the sightings that
Speaker 1: were going on in the early seventies, but I had
Speaker 1: something happen to me one night while I was coon
Speaker 1: hunting that still gives me the chills when I think
Speaker 1: about it. I could tell by the look on his
Speaker 1: face and the tone of his voice that he was
Speaker 1: being dead serious. I knew this was coming from a
Speaker 1: good man of God who'd always been leveled straight and
Speaker 1: never lied to me. So this is the story that
Speaker 1: he told me one night when he was a senior
Speaker 1: in high school. He got home from a date about
Speaker 1: eleven pm or so on a Friday night in mid November.
Speaker 1: He said it was coon season, so he thought they
Speaker 1: changed clothes and load the dogs up and go see
Speaker 1: if he could tree a coon. Yet, that night, the
Speaker 1: area that he was gonna hunt was on the backside
Speaker 1: of a state park. Where his family had ground that
Speaker 1: they farmed. Most parks and recreation areas have fire roads
Speaker 1: through them. These roads allow access for emergency vehicles in
Speaker 1: case of fires, and they are also used by farmers
Speaker 1: for access to their fields for spring planting and fall harvesting.
Speaker 1: It was here on this fire road my friend and
Speaker 1: his two eager hounds began their late night coon hunt.
Speaker 1: After parking the truck and turning the dogs loose, my
Speaker 1: friend said that he walked about one hundred to one
Speaker 1: hundred and twenty five yards down the fire road with
Speaker 1: the dogs out in front of him. Aways with the
Speaker 1: woods of the state park on his left and a
Speaker 1: broken wide fence road that bordered the agricultural fields on
Speaker 1: his right, he decided to stop and wait to listen
Speaker 1: for his dogs, so he turned off his night light
Speaker 1: and stood in the quiet, waiting for his hounds to
Speaker 1: strike a trail. He had been waiting for about ten
Speaker 1: minutes when he heard something running in the woods on
Speaker 1: his left. He turned his headlamp on to see the
Speaker 1: eyes of his dogs reflecting back at him as they
Speaker 1: came running out of the woods and back on to
Speaker 1: the fire road. They were running like their tails had
Speaker 1: caught fire, and they skidded to a halt, almost tripping
Speaker 1: him up in the process. He was annoyed at both
Speaker 1: of them, but realized that they were both trembling with fear,
Speaker 1: and they kept looking back where they'd run from while
Speaker 1: seeking reassurance from him. After about fifteen seconds or so
Speaker 1: after his dog's returned, he smelled the most putrid smell
Speaker 1: he thought he'd ever smelled in his life. He described
Speaker 1: it as rotting eggs with a stagnant, strong, musty, damp odor.
Speaker 1: It made his gut wrench, he said. While trying to
Speaker 1: calm his dogs down, he heard heavy footfall coming from
Speaker 1: the broken fence row side of the fire road. Now
Speaker 1: I'm an outdoorsman too, and I can relate to what
Speaker 1: he said. Next, he said, those footsteps I heard were
Speaker 1: not a deer or somebody's cow that was loose. They
Speaker 1: were too loud to belong to a smaller, four legged animal.
Speaker 1: Whatever was making that noise was big, and it was
Speaker 1: on two legs of that, I have no doubt. He
Speaker 1: was scared and yet a little angry because he thought
Speaker 1: maybe somebody was sneaking up on him at night to
Speaker 1: scare him as a joke. While he was hunting by himself.
Speaker 1: He called out a couple of times for whoever this was,
Speaker 1: to knock it off, and to remember that he was
Speaker 1: carrying a firearm. He then said the firearm comment didn't
Speaker 1: give him much confidence because he was only carrying a
Speaker 1: twenty two rifle. There was no response, just to continued
Speaker 1: heavy footfalls, which had closed to within about thirty yards
Speaker 1: of his position, he said. He turned his headlamp onto
Speaker 1: full bam and shine the fence row side of the road,
Speaker 1: looking for whatever was making the sounds that he was hearing.
Speaker 1: He said he saw nothing, but he noticed the footsteps
Speaker 1: stopped after he started scanning his light. After not seeing anything,
Speaker 1: the flight response took over and he just wanted to
Speaker 1: get back to his truck and be away from whatever
Speaker 1: was happening as fast as he could. By now he
Speaker 1: was shaking with as much fear as the dogs were,
Speaker 1: and from the looks they gave him as he was
Speaker 1: snapping the leashes on their collars, it was like we're
Speaker 1: ready to ski daddle too. He retreated towards the direction
Speaker 1: of his truck at a fast walk, knowing they had
Speaker 1: some one hundred and twenty five yards or so to cover.
Speaker 1: He stopped dead still, and he listened to hear those
Speaker 1: same heavy footsteps stop a couple of seconds after his
Speaker 1: dead so he knew he was being sh from the
Speaker 1: fence row side. On his trip back to the truck,
Speaker 1: the futured smell increased and decreased, but was always present
Speaker 1: on his retreat. Finally, when he and the dogs were
Speaker 1: within about thirty yards of his truck, they broke into
Speaker 1: a full run to cover the last distance. The dogs
Speaker 1: were still trembling so bad he had to lift each
Speaker 1: one of them to the tailgate so they could get
Speaker 1: back in the dog box for the ride home. After
Speaker 1: loading the dogs, he was still trembling so bad that
Speaker 1: he dropped his keys once while trying to unlock the
Speaker 1: truck door, but once he did, everything went flying to
Speaker 1: the far side of the truck cab. In a rush
Speaker 1: to go, he slung grass and dirt with the tires
Speaker 1: until he hit the gravel road to head home. Pausing
Speaker 1: for a minute after he finished his story, he said,
Speaker 1: now take your fingers and touch my forearm. I gave
Speaker 1: him a strange look. I didn't know what he was
Speaker 1: talking about. Just do it, he said, I ran my
Speaker 1: hand across his forearm, and I realized then why he
Speaker 1: wanted me to do that. Goosebumps covered him from shoulder
Speaker 1: to fingertip. That happens to me every time I tell
Speaker 1: that story with this much detail. He said, my friend
Speaker 1: did not actually see anything. He only heard and smelled it.
Speaker 1: He doesn't know for sure what it was, but something
Speaker 1: that was very scary happened to him on that coonut