Speaker 1: When I was nine, our family lived in Plumber, Idaho,
a small logging town in the Panhandle. We actually lived
on ten acres of land in the hills several miles
outside of town. My two older brothers were avid hunters
who would go on extended hunting trips, and they'd leave
from our house and head out to the middle of nowhere,
pick a spot where they wanted to hunt, and then
build a shelter out of fallen timber where they'd stay
for the duration of their hunt. One year, they asked
me if I wanted to go, I would get to
stay in one of their timber shelters. They would cook
for me over the campfire, and they'd even let me
shoot one of their rifles. They promised it would be
a lot of fun, and I asked my dad if
it'd be okay, and after they assured him that they
would take good care of me, he agreed to let
me go. We headed out on a Friday evening, and
I remember the day because it meant I would be
missing Saturday morning cartoons the next morning. Oh man, that, oh,
anything that interrupted Saturday morning cartoons was horrible for me
to brother. I agree with that, but I digress. For
a kid, that was a big deal, but this sounded
like more fun. Besides, I really wanted to fire my
brother's thirty thirty rifle, even if it would probably knock
me on my butt. We crammed into the front seat
of my brother's regular cab pickup and headed further into
the mountains. It seemed like it took forever, so I
think we must have been up there quite away. Of course,
I was still a kid, and so the distance may
have been exaggerated in my mind, but it seemed like
it took a really long time. We finally parked in
a clearing outside of the main tree line, and we
hiked the rest of the way in. We went far
enough in that one of my brothers had to carry
me on his back for the last half of the
walk to the campsite, and by the time we got
there it was getting late, at least it was for me.
So I sat on a log and watched as my
brother set up the camp and started a fire. Then
we went into the shelter, crawled into our sleeping bags,
and we fell asleep. The next morning, we got up
at the start of the day, but our food supply
was gone. My brothers had hung it in a large
pine tree the night before. I remember it looking impossibly
high to my juvenile mind. There were broken branches all
over the ground around that tree. These were big branches,
not just little branches, and they were broken off way
up the trunk. My older brother, who was six foot
five inches tall, remarked that he would have had to
use a ten foot ladder to get up there. My
oldest brother was sure it wasn't a bear because he
chosen a branch that stuck out from the tree, and
black bears would be too small to reach it. He
figured even a grizzly wouldn't have been able to get
up to that bag. They both looked pretty confused and angry.
Now we would have to leave the next day, which
meant that they would only have one day to hunt.
It was just sad, really, and I was looking forward
to having bacon and eggs cooked on the campfire. They
brought just enough jerky and snacks to get us through
the next morning. So my oldest brother went hunting, while
my other brother decided to stay in camp and teach
me how to fire the rifle. He really only stayed
because my legs were so sore from the long hike in,
even though he'd carried me halfway. That evening, my oldest
brother returned to camp empty handed. He told us that
it had been a very strange day while he was
out there. He didn't see any signs of anything. He
didn't see any of the usual small forest animals. He
didn't even see any birds. He couldn't find any deer
tracks when they were usually tons of them. Plus there
was a strange, horrible smell. My older brother mentioned that
he'd smell something weird the night before too well. Disappointed
that the trip had been a bus we crawled into
our sleeping bags that night with plans to pack up
and leave the next morning. But it wasn't long before
we heard branches breaking and knocking sounds just outside camp.
Then something started grunting, and we all sat up to listen.
At first, my brothers thought it was other hunters, but
the grunting got louder and it was accompanied by something
really big stomping around. My oldest brother grabbed his rifle
and stuck his head out to look around. He popped
right back in and yelled, grab the guns, we're leaving now.
My other brother started to pack, but my oldest brother
told him to leave everything else and to carry me
on his back the whole way. This point, I was
really scared and I had started crying. The last thing
I remember was a strange howling sound. It wasn't like
a dog or a coyote or a wolf. This was
deeper and louder. The height back to the truck took
what felt like hours. When we got there, my brother
threw me into the cab and we were gone. I
don't know what it was out there that night. I
never saw it, but neither of my brothers ever hunted
that area again, and over the years I've tried to
get my oldest brother to tell me what he saw,
and after all this time, he still won't talk about it.
This is the story of how my fascination with sisquatch began,
and it comes right out of my book titled Revelations
the Humid Hominid Connection. I've always loved the great Northwest
Washington State is certainly one of the most beautiful. While
up in the Wanache National Forest in nineteen eighty four,
participating in an Army rotc field training exercise, I had
an extraordinary experience, one that changed my perspective on life forever.
This is a story of my first encounter, and it
set me on a path to be an independent researcher.
While the other cadets were sound asleep in their mummy
bags under the pine trees, I was pulling duty as
a sentry in fireguard, guarding the fire and keeping it going.
With standard operating procedure, if you wanted to keep all
the critters away and have something to start the coffee
in the morning, we also had to tend to the
fire to practice good fire safety. While in the forest.
We would all take turns and relieve each other every
hour on the hour throughout the night. My shift started
at two hundred and was almost over. After kicking my
replacement twice and trying to wake him up, I realized
that he was not up to the task, and since
it was already about three thirty now, I decided to
stay by the fire and keep it going until dawn.
I recalled with a chuckle a story by a few
ftx's before that, a herd of elk passed through the
camp and one stopped to lick the salt off the
face of one of the cadets. Up until then, who
would have guessed that a person could jump up and
run off, screaming into the night while still zipped up
in a sleeping bag, but somehow he did it. I
guess all you have to do is get one foot
out through the zipper and then you can run forever.
So there I was all along, keeping an eye on
the low burning campfire. I was sitting face to face
to the south with the fire in front of me
because the cool n eye air was drifting through the
pines from north to south and I wanted to keep
the smoke out of my eyes. Suddenly I heard something
coming through the woods. The sound was over my right
shoulder at about my five o'clock position. Whatever it was,
it had to be big and heavy, because limbs and
twigs were snapping and popping, and it was coming up
the hill right for our camp site. I was frozen
with excitement and anticipation, waiting to see another herd of
elks stroll through. And then everything went quiet, like I
had just fallen into a dead zone. It was a
strange and unusual silence, the kind where time even stands
still just before something bad happens. I couldn't see or
hear a thing only that within the glow of the
campfire and the rhythmic snoring of a few cadets. I
quickly started adding more sticks to the fire to increase
in signature in the range of its light. And that's
when I realized that I was not the only thing
awake in the forest. I sensed a presence of something
there standing next to a big pine tree at my
two o'clock, just on the edge of the firelight, about
thirty feet away. I could see it best only in
my peripheral view. At night, our vision relies on two
primary mechanisms receptors rods and cones in your eye, which
collect in sin light impulses to the brain. At night,
a blind spot is evident when looking straight ahead, so
your visual acuity is better at night when using your
peripheral view. This enabled me to definitely see the silhouette
of something dark and huge standing upright. Yes, it was vertical,
and it was no elk and it certainly was not
a bear standing on its hind legs. It took me
a few seconds to process what I was seeing, and
it was something that was not supposed to exist. It
was at that point when my blood ran cold and
the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
I still get chills now as I recount this part
of the story. I remember saying under my breath, Wow,
they really do exist. This creature was standing quietly and
very still, and it was checking us out. There was
no doubt about it. It was a side squatch and
it was a big one picture, a slimmer green hulk
type character with black skin covered in black hair. It
was standing there like a statue, all majestic, looking down
on me. Up until this experience, I was only aware
of the Patterson Gimlins story in the famous video from California,
and I also had seen the Boggy Creek Monster movie
with some friends around nineteen seventy three. I never gave
it much thought after that. I was neither a believer
nor a skeptic. But there it was. It strolled right
off the pages of myth, legend and folkal or straight
into our camp, confirming the stories to be true. It
was standing next to a pine tree, looking at us,
or at me. Since I was the only one awaken alert,
I could actually see the amber glint of the fire
reflecting in its big black eyes, and it was counting us,
sizing us up and taking in every detail. I think
it was going somewhere in a hurry, and we just
happened to be in its way. The fear that was
running through me was unlike anything that can be adequately described.
It was downright paralyzing. It was like being at a
zoo looking at a ten foot eight hundred pound muscle
bound man beast that you didn't know existed, like a
new species on display, and you were seeing it for
the first time. The sheer size and manlike shape of
it filled you with fear, and it made a monstrous
thing to behold. It was dangerous too, because without a
retaining wall, fence or moat there to protect you, it
could easily take two steps and grab you by the
neck with one hand and pinch your head off. We
were in the wild and only thirty feet apart, and
the feeling of being completely exposed and vulnerable to this
forest giant was overwhelming. The revelation that this huge, wild
manlike creature is wandering around freely and thriving on the
fringe of human civilization since the dawn of time shocked
me to my core. As quick as the fear rushed
over me, it started to leave. My fear transformed into
the feeling of accepting my fate as I recognized the
fact that we just happened to occupy the same space
at the same time. He could have killed us all
if he wanted, but he didn't, and there was nothing
we could have done to stop him. So the best
I could do was sit there calmly and act like
it was no big deal. I'm calling it a he
because it is an alpha male thing. I just knew
it was a male from its posture and sheer size
and the feeling I got that he was the one
controlling the moment. He wasn't hunched over either. He was
standing up straight and proud. His right hand was on
the pine tree to his right, and the left arm
was relaxed and extended straight down to his left side,
the fingers ending just above the left knee. The size
of the left hand was amazingly large, as each finger
looked like the size of the biggest and longest banana
you could find, and it had fingernails, not claws. His
forearm appeared to be longer than his bicep, which was
freaking massive. After about a minute of staring at each other,
things started to get even more real. He moved. He
began to move counterclockwise around the campsite, from tree to
tree to a position directly behind me, and that's when
I got a good whiff of a sweaty, musky animal scent.
It wasn't offensive, just a wild, wet animal scent hanging
on the night air. And when he was behind me
about at my six o'clock position, I remember turning my
head to the side to let him know that I
was aware of where he was, and I tried to
act as disinterested as I could and not show any fear,
even though I was still somewhat petrified. I was bluffing
it with a cool, calm courage the best I could do.
I had to, as I couldn't even feel my legs,
so standing up and running away was completely out of
the question. And I sense that he respected the fact
that I recognized too or what he was, and accepted
his presence without freaking out and waking up the others.
We all carried a rubberized M sixteen for training purposes,
and I realized that mine was laying on the ground
next to me. I made sure not to reach for
it or even make a move in that general direction.
The last thing I wanted to do was appear threatening
in any way or to get this thing excited. So
I just sat there quietly while throwing more sticks on
the fire because I had to get a better look
at this man beast. My initial fear factor was now
fading into pure curiosity with a strange sense of calm
due to receiving a feeling or a message that he
had no intention of harming us. I can't explain this,
but this is when I first realized that I may
be a bit of a cognitive EmPATH and was susceptible
to some kind of mind speak telepathy ability. It was
like I could feel what it was feeling, and I
could hear what it was thinking. My research shows that
we are all born with this stability, but it takes
an active one to unlock a passive one. Without any doubt,
I was clearly being told that we just happened to
be in its way, and we're not in any real danger.
He also relayed to me a message that he wasn't
going to make any noise if I didn't. He even
demonstrated this by not making a sound. No howls, no growls, grunts,
or footfalls. He wanted to keep this encounter just between us.
Because of this connection, there was an unnatural sense of
admiration and respect that existed between us, and it was
totally enabled by him. After a few moments, I noticed
that he had moved again, back to my two o'clock
position next to the tree where I first noticed him.
Now with the fire burning a little brighter, I noticed
a knob where a limb had broken off on that tree,
just above his head. I registered that so I could
determine his height later. And then he moved again and
then again, always using the trees to mask his profile.
He would move only when I would break eye contact
and reach down to throw more sticks on the fire.
He was in stealth mode for sure. While he stood there,
I was able to detect a slight shimmer of firelight
off his hair, which was about four inches long and
longer around the head and the chin area. I could
also see a glint of fire light off the oily
dark skin of his cheekbone and bridge of his nose
and nostrils. I couldn't see any necker ears due to
the long black hair. The one thing that was so
impressive was how something that huge and heavy, could move
so fluid without making a sound. If I hadn't kept
an eye on him, I wouldn't have detected any movement
at all. Just as I was getting used to his presence,
I sensed that he was in a hurry and had
to be somewhere else before sunrise. It was like he
said goodbye shortly thereafter, the tension of the moment had
left and he was gone. All sensory input that I
was receiving had just dissipated, and the silence lifted. He
had departed on the same heading, arriving at my five
o'clock and leaving on my eleven o'clock, heading south southeast
to wherever he was going. Originally, later, after looking at
the map, that heading would have placed him down in
the valley just below before dawn, where all of the
forms and ranches were. The early morning light came as
I expected, and I started the coffee. I was still
in total awe of what had happened, and I felt
physically drained and emotionally numb, with a healthy dose of
euphoria mixed in for good measure. The others started to stir,
and while we had breakfast, someone asked how my night was.
After hearing that no one had relieved me from fireguard,
I simply said, without thinking, well, we had a visitor,
a big, two legged, hairy visitor. Yep, it was a sisquatch.
That's when the smirks and ridicule began and the cynics
started weighing in. In fact, following that event, one of
my fellow cadets pulled me aside to offer some advice.
He said, if you want to kill your military career
before it even gets started, then keep talking about what
you saw. Well. I got the message allowed and clear,
and I vowed never to share that story with anyone again,
at least until the time was right. As the sun
crested on the eastern horizon, I walked over to the
tree and tried to estimate the height from the ground
to the tree knob. I did this by tying a
stick to one end of a string of five point
fifty pair of cord, and then tossed it up over
the tree knob, pulling the stick tight into the notch.
When I tied the knot in the cord at the
bottom where it touched the ground, it would be tape
measured later. It measured out to be nine point four feet,
so he was a big one for sure. I also
noticed a trail of impressions in the soft pine duff.
They were big impressions, two inches deep, and they went
all around the camp perimeter. The prince measured out to
be almost twenty inches from heel to toe, with the
width being eight inches wide. It was difficult to get
an actual measurement due to the soft soul under the
pine duff, making none of it cast worthy, but you
could easily tell that something big and heavy had moved
through the area. The stride was impressive, as it measured
to be about six feet between impressions. I couldn't believe
my eyes when I realized that the tracks at my
backside my six o'clock position, had closed in and were
only fifteen feet away from me where I was sitting.
He actually took advantage of my blindside and moved in
for a closer look. I'm sure that is when I
could smell him, as it put him directly up when
from me. I consider myself fortunate to have been there
and awake that night. Maybe things would have ended differently
if someone else had been up watching the fire, experiencing
a myth, a legend, and an entity of folklore is
not something that someone asked for, as it can be
a frightening experience if you are receptive to new possibilities
and find yourself in the presence of one, remain calm
and respectful. In this case, seeing something that we are
told does not exist becomes a life changing, significant emotional event.
From that day forward, I began to question a lot
because I knew that most people didn't, and knowing the
truth is an amazing feeling. If you don't actively pursue
the truth in life, then you are destined to live
a lie. So if you want to see one, put
yourself out there in the wild and embrace your animal spirit,
enjoy nature and the great outdoors, and let them find you.
And that's the end of its email. Man, that's awesome.
I believe I just read a section from his book.
I'm not sure. I'm going to have to read the
book to find out. But again, this is written by TJ. Neely.
He is the author of Revelations the Human Hominism Connection. Again.
It was published about a year ago. I'm sure he'd
love it if you check his book out. I don't
know the man I have never talked to him. I'm
just this is all coming through an email that I
got sometime back. So this is a really good story though,
and I know everyone enjoyed it. So I want to
thank mister Neely for sending this. I really do appreciate it.
Thank you, sir,