Speaker 1: My name is Danny, and I've been a bigfoot enthusiast
since i was a teenager when I saw the Patterson
Gimlin film. I'm now sixty nine years old and still
just as enthusiastic. My first encounter was from my father.
I never thought he would admit to seeing a bigfoot
because he always said there was a reasonable explanation for
things that you think you see. One day, when the
subject of bigfoot came up, I expected to hear him
say that he didn't believe in them. He then shared
a story of something that happened to him, either before
he left for World War Two or after he came home.
He was at home on my grandfather's farm. A large
field out in front of the house had been plowed
and worked up ready to plant. That field and pasture
was separated by a creek that ran between them. Part
of the pasture was also woodland and hills. He was
on his way to the pasture, and as he crossed
the yard, he heard a loud roar and then a scream,
as if something had attacked a woman. He wondered what
it was and began to walk the path to the
creek to get a better look at the area of
the field. The entire field was now in view, and
he saw a big black thing that looked like a
man crossing. It walked to the fence line at the
edge of the field and stepped over the fence like
it was stepping over a doorway threshold. It then had
to step over the bank to the creek and cross
over it, and then up the bank to the other side.
He said he watched it cross the pasture and walked
into the woods. I was surprised that he even admitted
to all this. This is my first encounter as a teenager.
I grew up on a small forty acre farm that
sat between two hills, otherwise known as a holler. My
home was at the lower part of the farm, and
in the narrow part between the hills. Dad had built
a pond for fishing. He charged money for the people
to fish there, so it was a source of income
and a source of water for our gardens. In the summer,
I spent my youth roaming those hills, hunting and camping
and wandering like farm boys do. One evening I was fishing,
and just as it began to get dark, my sixth
sense kicked in and I realized that something wasn't right.
There were no frogs, singing birds, and bugs were silent.
I realized that something was going on when I heard
something walking through the leaves just inside the woodline. I
knew it wasn't a deer because at that time we
didn't have deer in our area, and I knew it
wasn't a bear because we didn't have them either. There
was a long pause between each step, and I could
tell it was stepping flat footed in the leaves. That
sixth sense told me that it was time to leave,
so I picked up my gear and I headed home.
The sound followed me until I got to the dam,
and then it just stopped. The next event happened in
two thousand and five. While I was working the evening
shift at our main post office here in Huntington, West Virginia.
I got off at eleven unless I had to work over.
It was during the summer, so the nights were warm,
and on this night, I arrived home at two am.
When I pulled into my driveway, I got out of
the car and I noticed that every dog for a
mile around was barking. I wondered what had them riled
up about? That time, on the hill above the creek,
I heard a huge roar that lasted for several seconds.
It echoed off the hills, and the instant it stopped,
every dog shut up. All I could do was smile
and say, there's a bigfoot for sure. I was watching
your channel on YouTube last night listening to a report
with the Lady Cat that's Cat Rabbit from Alabama, and
when you played the recording she had made, I told
my wife that's exactly what I heard out here, just
not as deep sounding. Well, there's something for your records
on West Virginia. I hope it was of some value.
Keep up the good work and all the best for
the coming year. I don't have the date on this,
but I think I don't think this one's too old.
But Danny, thanks for thanks for the well wishes on
the channel. I appreciate it. Your dad actually saw one,
and then you experienced something which you I think used
his experience and kind of came to the conclusion it
was probably a bigfoot tracking you out of the woods
when you were at that pond. Then you heard that
howl above your house when you came home at two
in the morning. I don't know what I would do
if I heard something like that. I heard something weird
out here. It was the weirdest sounding. It was an animal.
I'd like to imitate it, but I don't think I can.
But it was one of those sounds that, all right,
here's the truth. Sometimes I step out on my front
porch and I just peep. My wife gets real aggravated
with me. But the bathroom is way down the house,
and the front porch is just right there. And I
live right out in the middle of nowhere where nobody
can see me. We don't have any street lights. We
don't even have any lights outside unless you turn them on,
so it's dark. I go out there and pee in peace.
You know. Well, I'm standing out there doing my business,
and right in front of me the way I'm pointing,
I could hear this thing making some kind of call.
It was like a er er er, but it was
different than that. It had more base to it. It
kind of God. I don't think it was a bigfoot,
I'm just telling you that right now. But it had
more like of a vibrating kind of a voice. But
it sounded like it could either be a mile away
or it could be like right in front of me,
like out at my driveway, which is only a few yards,
maybe thirty yards, Like it was right in the woods.
I don't know. I don't know what it was. I
don't think it was bigfoot, but it was some kind
of animal making a noise that I had never heard.
Do you know what I mean when I say it.
You can't judge the sound because you've never heard that
sound before, so you can't really judge how far it was.
But it sounded close, but it could have been half
a mile away. I don't know. I don't know, but
I haven't heard it again. I went out later that night.
I went out the next two nights. It was dark
and the moon was out. There was some light I
could see, but I never heard it again. It's pretty interesting.
I don't think it was a bigfoot, but it was
a weird sound. You know, sometimes cows those weird sounds.
Whether people have cattle around here all over the place,
and they make and mules are not mules, but donkeys,
these little donkeys that people keep. My son used to
have a couple of those. They make the freakiest sounds
I've ever heard. Could have been something like that. Anyway,
I'm just rambling on. Let's move on to another story.
Thanks Danny for the emails really good. I grew up
on a small mountain called Beechy Ridge in Clay County,
West Virginia. It's one of the tallest mountains in the region.
One afternoon in the summer of nineteen seventy seven, my
mother and I were sitting on our front porch when
all seven of our dogs went on alert. As we
looked around to find what had them on edge, a
large animal ran on two legs from round the side
of the house and crossed our front porch. It passed
the light my dad had mounted on an oak tree.
That light was seven feet off the ground, and the
animal was every bit as tall as that light, maybe taller.
It was reddish brown, with long hair on its shoulders
and arms. The dogs all began to chase after it,
but less than five minutes later they all came running
back with their tails tuck. Not long after that, we
had a visit at night. My dad worked at midnight
shift at a coal mine forty miles away and widen.
We kept two of our dogs inside with us. Dad
had already left for the night when they began barking
at the front and back doors. Something was walking around
the outside, and then bam, whatever was out there had
slapped the side of our house, and the dogs went silent.
The smaller one went under the bed, and the larger one,
pretty boy. He hopped up on the couch with my
younger brother. Go get the shotgun, my mother whispered as
she hung a blanket over the front door to cover
the multiple glass panes. When I came back with the gun,
she was lighting a fire in the stove. Summertime and hot,
and I gave her a strange look, and she said,
it'll keep them from getting on the roof. It was
the longest night of my life. We went around the
house and covered all the windows before joining my brother
on the couch. Mama read the Bible with the loaded
shotgun laying across her lap, and pointed at the door.
A commotion came from the chicken coop. My brother and
I looked helpless at our mother. Tears were welling up
in our eyes. We'll have to sacrifice some chickens tonight,
she said, with a calm voice that did nothing to
disguise the haunted look in her eyes. It's the price
we have to pay to save our own lives. She added.
The next morning, when Dad came home, we were missing
twenty four chickens. Something had ripped off the roof of
the coop. It looked like it had eaten at least
three of them right there. Dad said, there were six
chicken feet and some feathers there by the fence. The
rest of the chickens were gone. He said, the booger's
got them. Have you ever seen a booger before, my
mother asked. She told me about when she was a
little girl and lived in a small lumber mill boom
Town in Clay County. My mother was born during World
War Two. Her father worked in the mill, operating the
cris soak tanks for the railroad ties. They lived in
a house at the end of the road on top
of a hill. Mama and her sister walked through the
woods every day to and from school and up and
down that hill. One day, she and her sister had
dilly dialed around the mercantile score, buying a poke a
penny candy and playing with her friends after school. Suddenly
they realized the sun was beginning to set, and they
knew they had to get home quick. Their mom would
have supper on the table soon. They raced up the
hill toward home, and they decided to take the shortcut
through the woods to save time. They'd only gone a
few yards when they began to hear heavy footsteps behind them.
It was late summer, so the leaves were still on
the trees. It made the woods much darker than the
rest of the world, so they couldn't see who was
following them. We have candy and you can have it.
Just leave us alone, they yelled, thinking it might be
one of the older boys trying to prank them. Satisfied
that they sufficiently told off the older boy, they continued
walking a little faster now, and despite their bravado, they
were a little frightened. As they moved faster, so did
their stalker, and Mama's little sister panicked then and took
off running, leaving her standing in the woods, crying, you're
scaring me. Mama cried as she looked all around her.
Stop it, but the footsteps were getting closer. She took
off at a brisk pace, but the footsteps were keeping
up with her, and every once in a while, as
she made her way up the hill, she glanced back
over her shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of whoever
was back there. Finally, she reached the clearing in the
woods where a house had once been but had long
since burned down. She looked back again, and this time
she saw a massive black figure covered in hair. She
dropped her candy in books as she broke into a
dead run, with tears running down her cheeks and her
lungs felt as though they would burst, but she didn't
stop till she got to the front door of her
own house. My grandmother was standing there waiting for her
with a switch in her hand, but when she saw
the look on Mama's face, she pulled her into her arms.
What's wrong, honey, she asked, brushing away her tears. There's
a monster chasing me. Mamma, are you sure? Grandmother asked, yes.
It was big and black, and it was covered hair.
Mamma's words were coming in short blast between gulps of air.
I dropped my candy in books at the old barnt house,
she explained. My grandma thought to herself that Mama might
have seen a hobo. She wiped away her tears and
gave her a hug and sent her inside to clean
up for supper, and that night, after my grandfather got
home and the children were in bed, Grandma told him
what happened. Grandfather took his flashlight and pistol and walked
down to the old burnt house to have a look around,
and there he found my mother's books with three pieces
of candy set on top of them. The bag and
the rest of the candy were gone, and he saw
what he thought were bear tracks in the area. But
that was it. In nineteen fifty two, when my mother
was seven and her sister was five, there was no
information out there on Bigfoot. People here in West Virginia
had to go on what they knew. Back then, they
knew about bears and hoboes and buggers in the woods.
As for my mother, until the day she died at
age seventy one, she never went in those woods alone again.
My name is Julie and I went to Yellowstone in
nineteen eighty eight with my father to celebrate my high
school graduation. We went to a picnic spot right behind
the Yellowstone Lodge. There was a grill to the left
and a picnic table to the right. We started to
put out the food and the utensils and started the
grill to have a bite to eat. All of a
sudden we felt threatened. A rock came flying at my head.
I poured water on the grill and ran to the
car and we left everything there. I snapped one photo
and then rock too hit the car and I looked
up on the ridge and standing there was a giant,
ten foot mucky, chocolate brown bipedal creature growling at us.
I could see small eyes, a brow ridge, a cone head,
and a flat gorilla nose, huge canines top and bottom,
bigger than a gorilla's. Long arms reached down to the knees,
and I could see hands, not poles. I could see
the feet, and the big toe was sticking out, but
the feet looked like ours, except when he walked. He
did so picking up the front of the foot and
put it down. Legs were thick and looked like tree trunks,
very muscular and short, round eyes, and they were brown
in color. The scream was primate or a tiger scream
that filled the whole area, and I could feel it
in my chest. And there was that awful smell, like
a dead dog or garbage rotting in the sun. It
would make you sick. Oh man, these smells just cracked
me up. Okay, I'm sorry I did that, y'all. It
just hits me when I read them. I think back
on all the funny descriptions of smells. This girl had
a traumatic experience. And I'm not trying not to laugh
at the story. But the smell descriptions, you have to admit,
they're pretty good. They're pretty good. When it ran, the
knees were at a ninety degree angle, and they were
bigger than ours, and I could see the fir just
coming off the body. When we got to the car
and started to leave, this huge creature chased us down
the road. It chased us seventy five hundred feet down
the road. Dad told me to keep going, and I
was trying to go faster. I look behind us, and
there he was. Now. I put the car in faster
gear and we got away, and then he turned off
into the woods. We drove all the way back to Jackson,
and we got on a plane and we left. We
made it home, and we left all the gear there
on the ground. We didn't care the bigfoots could have it.
I felt that we were food and that he wanted
to do serious damage. Maybe he wanted it a side
of the area. What I saw was another creature hiding
behind a tree, and all I saw all was eyes.
I've studied wildlife conservation, animal science, birds, fire science, and virology.
I don't know if that's a virology v I R
L O G Y. I'm not sure what that is.
This was no bear, because when a bear stands up,
the paws are up in front of the body. This
had no ears. The fur was stick and long, it
had two legs, and it knew how to throw rocks.
I'm sorry that many say these things are gentle, because
they are not. I feel like David Pilates is right.
The people who go missing go missing because these creatures
are taking them. They do not want us in their
area of the woods. To me being chased away, mints,
stay out, you're not wanted, Go away. I got the
message loud and clear. I refuse to ever step in
the woods again. The nightmares have not stopped, and I
feel stuck in the woods and I see this thing
come after me, and it was the scariest face I've
ever seen. And now reading what I've written on paper,
it makes it more real. Leave them alone. And stay
out of the woods. For me, I love the woods,
but now I know the best thing to do is
to stay in the city parks where I'm safe. I
would hate to think if this happened at night, that
it would have been fatal. I understand the park not
saying anything, but I feel people should know for their safety.
If you go in the woods, do so at your
own risk. This is my story and I'm not lying
or trying to get attention. This really happened. This is
what I saw. You can believe it or not. Many
say that they're not real and then explain the DNA
Prince scat Hare's vocal calls. They are real and they
are out there, and what are they. I don't understand.
Some kind of link between man and us is presented.
We will not know. She signs off. Julie, that story
is one that I did not edit for, you know,
to polish it up and make it sound real good.
And you can you can kind of feel how kind
of choppy it is. There's very little punctuation. And I'm
not criticizing Julie. Probably ninety percent of the stories I
get are like that, are written like this, and that's
why when I say, we edit these. We edit them
for a good listening experience for you, and so bring
on the bring on the criticisms. I know it's coming
that all these are fake stories, but they're not. They're
not fake stories. They're actually emails that people send me,
and we clean them up and we make them sound good.
But back to this story, I y'all, Stone Park, nineteen
eighty eight. They stopped for a picnic. Something throws a
rock at them. It spooks the Julie and her father.
They douse the fire, get in the car, and then
this thing throws another rock and hits the car and
then chases them down the road. That's pretty that's pretty spooky.
I mean, but you know what, I don't have many
stories where people actually run into these things in Yellowstone.
This may be one of the very few, if not
the only story that I can remember, that has an
event in Yellowstone. And that's kind of interesting. Yellowstone's quite
the beautiful remote area. All I know is grizzly bears.
I want to ride my motorcycle through Yellowstone and I wonder,
I wonder if a grizzly bear could chase me down
on a motorcycle. I bet he could. I bet he could.
And boy, if you slip in the gravel, they got you.
They got you. Maybe I'm just a scaredy cat.