Speaker 1: I've spent most of my life in the western North
Speaker 1: Carolina Mountains. My encounter happened in the early nineteen nineties.
Speaker 1: My kids and I would spend our weekends and evenings
Speaker 1: hunting the North Carolina Mountains for Gensen. It's a beautiful
Speaker 1: plant that grows in the hollers in our local area.
Speaker 1: The children enjoyed this activity, searching the forest floor for
Speaker 1: the distinct five leaf plant that gave proof the gen
Speaker 1: seen route would be found in the rich, dark soil below.
Speaker 1: We did this every September in October. Digging and searching,
Speaker 1: we could earn several thousand dollars once the roots were
Speaker 1: dried and sold. A lot of mountain folks would make
Speaker 1: extra money this way, the children would get to keep
Speaker 1: any money they made for their efforts. That was a
Speaker 1: huge motivation. Particular year, we found a real honey hole
Speaker 1: in a place called Greenville Watershed. It is a restricted
Speaker 1: nineteen thousand acre reserve. A highway passes through the area
Speaker 1: with signs visible all along that warned you not to trespass.
Speaker 1: Looking back, I have to ask myself why on earth
Speaker 1: we went in there, because we could have gotten in
Speaker 1: a lot of trouble. If we had been caught. This
Speaker 1: forest was completely untouched by humans and it was isolated.
Speaker 1: Needless to say, there was an abundant plant life. One evening,
Speaker 1: after my husband got off work, we went to our
Speaker 1: honey hole to dig. The fall evening was perfect, The
Speaker 1: air was crisp, and the sky was blue, and we
Speaker 1: had been blessed with our diggings. In fact, we were
Speaker 1: so successful that we went further into the forest than usual.
Speaker 1: The day had gotten away from us and darkness was
Speaker 1: setting in Under the tree canopy, we made our way
Speaker 1: back toward our which was parked in a discreete area
Speaker 1: along a narrow road. We were still in the darkness
Speaker 1: of the woods, but we could see the last of
Speaker 1: the day's light where the trees were cleared along the road.
Speaker 1: My husband was in front and our kids were in
Speaker 1: the middle, and I was bringing up the rear. We
Speaker 1: approached the light, we heard a huge noise. At first,
Speaker 1: I thought it was rocks falling from the high peak
Speaker 1: of the adjacent mountain, and I looked up in that direction,
Speaker 1: thinking I would see a commotion. When we all stopped
Speaker 1: and listened, I realized it wasn't rocks crashing. It was
Speaker 1: a huge, growling breath way too close to us. We froze.
Speaker 1: No one spoke for several seconds. The children started to
Speaker 1: whimper as the reality of what we heard set in.
Speaker 1: When we took a step forward, the creature released another long,
Speaker 1: rolling growl. It was so loud and long that it
Speaker 1: shook my insides, and I knew then that it was
Speaker 1: watching us. We had no choice but to walk forward
Speaker 1: toward the car and out of the dark woods. I
Speaker 1: did not want the children to start running, so I
Speaker 1: held my youngest hand and instructed the other two not
Speaker 1: to run, but to walk slowly and steadily to the car.
Speaker 1: We took several more steps forward, and the creature once
Speaker 1: again released that warning breath, sending tremors of fear through
Speaker 1: my body, but we didn't stop. We all held steady
Speaker 1: and made it to our vehicle, and as soon as
Speaker 1: we were in the car, we took off, the children
Speaker 1: crying and all of us questioning what on earth was
Speaker 1: in the woods with us. We never went back to
Speaker 1: that area again. We still retell that event, and we
Speaker 1: all agreed that the creature that warned us away that
Speaker 1: day was a big one. I now live in a
Speaker 1: small town in the area known as Forest City. We
Speaker 1: bought a sixty eight acre piece of property that is
Speaker 1: partially pasture and part forest. I have seen evidence that
Speaker 1: Bigfoot passes through occasionally. I see twisted off trees and
Speaker 1: it leaves a horrible odor. It calls and makes tree
Speaker 1: knocks too. Now I haven't seen it, and I'm not
Speaker 1: looking for it. I'm satisfied to know that they are
Speaker 1: living peacefully nearby, and that's enough for me. Okay, here's
Speaker 1: a fun little piece of Steve Lily fan fiction. I
Speaker 1: told people that you're feel free to write Steve Lily's
Speaker 1: stories and I would put them on the podcast. I
Speaker 1: don't know the name of this writer. I think it's
Speaker 1: a woman from Charleston, South Carolina. This is really good.
Speaker 1: I live at the trailer park. It ain't a bad
Speaker 1: place if you learn who to avoid and who to ignore,
Speaker 1: and mind your business. One of my favorite things to
Speaker 1: do is people watch from my little deck just to
Speaker 1: the right of the front door, and it gets the
Speaker 1: best son. Our trailer backs up to the woods and
Speaker 1: all the trails and forts that the park kids built.
Speaker 1: I know all the kids here and I try to
Speaker 1: watch out for them. There's a lot of them that
Speaker 1: are latch key kids with working parents. Well there I
Speaker 1: was one afternoon on my porch, laying low in minding
Speaker 1: my business, when I heard the kids coming up from
Speaker 1: the woods at the back of the trailer park talking excitedly. Hey,
Speaker 1: it's not my fault. One of them said, it's not
Speaker 1: my fault either, said another one. Well, she's your sister.
Speaker 1: Which one of you was playing with her? Was it? Me? On?
Speaker 1: These kids went bickering at each other, and I tune
Speaker 1: most of it out until I heard something that piqued
Speaker 1: my interest. I'm hiding out over at your house. One
Speaker 1: of the kids said, my mom is gonna whoop my
Speaker 1: butt good if she don't show up. I told her
Speaker 1: not to go running after the baby monkey. Another said,
Speaker 1: there's no monkeys Mississippi, dummy. It wasn't that, And you
Speaker 1: know it what I thought to myself, realizing they left
Speaker 1: someone's little sister out in the woods chasing monkeys. I
Speaker 1: took off to the back of the trailer and set
Speaker 1: off in the woods. It wouldn't be long before dark,
Speaker 1: and luckily I knew those woods better than anyone, having
Speaker 1: lived there most of my life. The kid's trail was
Speaker 1: easy to follow on the sandy path. There were lots
Speaker 1: of footprints and broken sticks and leaves. So far, so good,
Speaker 1: I thought, though I had to go deeper into the
Speaker 1: woods than usual. I finally veered off the path and
Speaker 1: I saw two sets of small, barefoot tracks. Those idiot
Speaker 1: kids let the little sister out here with no shoes on,
Speaker 1: I thought. I shook my head. Then I saw another
Speaker 1: small set of tracks, which was a bit suspicious. Was
Speaker 1: I looking for one lost kid or two? Well? On
Speaker 1: I went for over an hour, knowing that this little
Speaker 1: girl was certainly lost by now, and then I smelled something.
Speaker 1: Oh oh, I thought, it's a pole cat. It's gone.
Speaker 1: What on earth was making that god awful smell. I
Speaker 1: got closer and it got stronger and stronger. There was
Speaker 1: something familiar about it. I had smelled it before, and
Speaker 1: then it hit me, sisquatch. It had to be. Is
Speaker 1: that what that little girl was chasing? A baby? Sisquatch?
Speaker 1: This wasn't looking good. I knew I had to hurry
Speaker 1: up and find her before mama squatched it. Well. Not
Speaker 1: long after that, I heard pitiful crying sounds. Thank goodness,
Speaker 1: I thought, I found the girl and I spread it
Speaker 1: in the direction of the sound, I stopped to look around,
Speaker 1: and in an instant I got the scare of my lifetime.
Speaker 1: Something fell on top of me and wrapped its hairy
Speaker 1: little arms around my neck. Oh dear, I thought, realizing
Speaker 1: a baby sasque watch had wrapped her body around me
Speaker 1: like a monkey on a tree. I knew Mama would
Speaker 1: be looking for her, and she would be mad. What
Speaker 1: was I going to do? Now? I needed to return
Speaker 1: this thing and find the little girl. With the baby
Speaker 1: wrapped around my neck, I started going back the way
Speaker 1: I came. I followed my steps to the main trail
Speaker 1: and looked right and left, knowing Mama was gonna come
Speaker 1: any second and find me. And then I heard a
Speaker 1: growl from somewhere in the bushes. I backed up, knowing
Speaker 1: that running would have been a bad idea. I heard
Speaker 1: another growl behind me, and another one off to the side.
Speaker 1: The baby clumbed to my neck even tighter, afraid of
Speaker 1: whatever was in the bushes watching us. One of them
Speaker 1: darted between the trees and I got a glimpse of it.
Speaker 1: It was a pack of coyotes. To hell with this,
Speaker 1: I thought, feet don't fail me now with the pursuit
Speaker 1: on the coyotes yodled and yep. I ran as fast
Speaker 1: as I could, and the pack ran with me, more
Speaker 1: of them seeming to join in the faster I went.
Speaker 1: I had made a big mistake, and now I had
Speaker 1: no idea where I was. The woods had become so
Speaker 1: thick to see through, and I had become winded. I
Speaker 1: backed up against the large pine tree and coaxed the
Speaker 1: baby onto the nearest branch, knowing at least she would
Speaker 1: be safe. Climb on up, Baby, climb, I whispered. I
Speaker 1: watched her climb the tree, and I heard the dogs
Speaker 1: come to a sliding halt behind me. I knew then
Speaker 1: that I would not be going home tonight. When the
Speaker 1: first coyote lunged at me, I raised my arms over
Speaker 1: my head in a pitiful attempt to shield myself. Then
Speaker 1: a miracle happened. I heard it being launched into the
Speaker 1: side of the tree. When I heard a second one jump,
Speaker 1: I heard a smash into the tree too, and I
Speaker 1: heard them yipping and lunging, but none of them touched me.
Speaker 1: I got brave enough to take a look, and that's
Speaker 1: when I saw Mama Squatch. To say she was mad
Speaker 1: would have been an understatement. She was eight feet tall,
Speaker 1: no doubt. As she made her way to me, she
Speaker 1: snatched codies up by the tail and swung them headfirst
Speaker 1: into the nearest tree. Her eyes never lost my face.
Speaker 1: Her teeth were grimacing, and out came her tongue, and
Speaker 1: she inhaled deeply and screamed, bloody murder. The sound hit
Speaker 1: me like a bag of rocks and rang through me
Speaker 1: like a jackhammer. My chest hurt from the vibration. She
Speaker 1: inhaled again and screamed louder, probably having smelled her baby
Speaker 1: on me and letting me know that she was furious
Speaker 1: about it. The surviving codies ran in every direction, and
Speaker 1: as she approached me, she raised her large ham sized
Speaker 1: fist in the air. I closed my eyes. This wasn't
Speaker 1: the death I had figured earlier. Thump. The baby squatch
Speaker 1: landed on me again and wrapped her arms around my neck.
Speaker 1: She put her face next to mine and looked at
Speaker 1: her mama, who stopped in her tracks. I saw her
Speaker 1: face soften as she reached her long arms out to
Speaker 1: take her baby. After their touching reunion, the mama reached
Speaker 1: out and stroked my hair. It was a strange sort
Speaker 1: of thing. But knowing she wasn't going to kill me,
Speaker 1: I could at least breathe again. If only she had
Speaker 1: the neighbor's girl and we could swap, I thought, as
Speaker 1: if she had read my mind. She looked deep into
Speaker 1: my eyes and she softly whooped. Somehow I understood her.
Speaker 1: She wanted me to follow. As in all unbelievable happy endings,
Speaker 1: Mama Squatch led me to a makeshift nest, and when
Speaker 1: I looked over the edge of the sticks and the twigs,
Speaker 1: I saw the little girl I had been looking for.
Speaker 1: She was sound asleep. Mama Squatch had probably looked out
Speaker 1: for her so the coo wouldn't get her. Mama looked
Speaker 1: behind her nervously, like there was something out there that
Speaker 1: still worried her. I had heard about sasquatch hunters and worse,
Speaker 1: and knowing this Mama had enough on her plate, I
Speaker 1: woke up the little girl and we got out of there.
Speaker 1: We ran a few paces, and then I stopped, wanting
Speaker 1: to thank the Mama Squatch, but when I turned around,
Speaker 1: her and the baby were gone. I let the little
Speaker 1: girl down the path through the woods, and when we
Speaker 1: came out from behind my trailer, she ran straight for home.
Speaker 1: Ahead of me, I saw my man home from work
Speaker 1: getting out of his car, and when he saw me,
Speaker 1: he waved his hand in front of his face, laughing. Phew,
Speaker 1: what you been doing girl, chasing skunks? He asked me.
Speaker 1: Lewis hurriedly walked over. Steve, don't you fuss at her.
Speaker 1: The neighbor's girl just told me that Lily found her
Speaker 1: in the woods and brought her home. She deserves a steak.
Speaker 1: Steve Lily nodded and shrugged. Now this was Steve Lily
Speaker 1: quote fan fiction, and it wasn't. It wasn't the normal
Speaker 1: circumstance that Steve Lily would be in. But he's in
Speaker 1: the story. So I want to tell this writer how
Speaker 1: much I appreciate them thinking enough of my Steve Lily
Speaker 1: stories that you would take the time to write a
Speaker 1: great story like this. This was really good. It was
Speaker 1: written almost in you know, the mint Southern vernaculars. Easy
Speaker 1: for me to read because I kind of got it.
Speaker 1: The woman who wrote it is from Charleston, South Carolina, Carolina.
Speaker 1: Apparently we talked pretty close. Charleston, South Carolina is one
Speaker 1: of my favorite places. It's one of the nicest, nicest
Speaker 1: people in the world on the east coast of South
Speaker 1: Carolina and North Carolina. Wilmington's that way, Outer Banks is
Speaker 1: that way. I love the East Coast. I'd love to
Speaker 1: live out there someday. Anyway, all that said, thank you
Speaker 1: for writing this, and that'll wind up this podcast. I've
Speaker 1: got quite a bit of work going on. It's hopefully
Speaker 1: it's my last job I'm gonna do for the year.
Speaker 1: When i'm done, i'll finish up Steve Lilly Number nineteen
Speaker 1: and it'll be published. And just be patient. Everybody's asking
Speaker 1: for Steve Lily. I'm not done writing Steve Lily. I've
Speaker 1: just hitting a I've just hit a phase where I
Speaker 1: don't know, I can't do two things at one time.
Speaker 1: I've been working so hard on this podcast for you know,
Speaker 1: about six or seven years, and I'm just backing away
Speaker 1: and I'm not working twelve fourteen hours a day. I'm
Speaker 1: just working maybe ten hours a day, and I'm skipping
Speaker 1: the podcast part. I come out about every third day
Speaker 1: early in the morning, and I record a couple of
Speaker 1: stories and I'm gonna be putting those out. But just
Speaker 1: hang on, I'm not done with this. I'm having so
Speaker 1: much fun with it. This next Steve Lily should be
Speaker 1: a ringer. It's pretty good. I think it's a good
Speaker 1: idea for a story. Hang on, thanks for listening to
Speaker 1: this podcast and I certainly do appreciate you, and we'll
Speaker 1: see you on the next week.