Speaker 1: There's a McDonald's that is four stories tall where I
grew up. It was pretty big news when it was built,
and the tall slides were a local landmark for a while.
Our middle school went there for field trips and our
track team would run to the tower and back for practice.
It was at the center of a square used for
car shows and pep rallies. The four story playground was
paradise for children and teenagers. The ballpit, the rope bridge,
the N sixty four games kept everyone entertained, while the
slides were the main attraction. It was quite the climb up,
but the payoff was sure worth it. The giant slide
was equivalent to the top thrilled dragster at Cedar Point.
It was a thrill ride, especially with our modification. We
would sneak the food trays up with us and Bob's
led them down the slide at super high speeds. We
were thrown out and chased out a couple of times
after some trays were broken. The evil Knievel stunts were
a blast, but there were nothing compared to what happened
one innocent summer morning. We walked from Southwick to the
McDonald's for some breakfast. I had hot cakes and sausage
with water. The boys ordered their meals and met me
in the back to eat. We played Madden on the
consoles and I enjoyed free refills or parade with their cups.
The place was fairly busy, but we pretty much had
free roama the entire back area, and that was our
hangout spot. It came time to watch them play and
I figured I would burn some time, and I started
wandering around looking for coins and dropped knickknacks. I was
inspecting around under a table when a kid tapped me
on the shoulder and said someone was looking for me.
I figured it was one of my buddies. I was confused,
but I climbed into the jungle gym and I began
crawling to the top. I didn't know what to expect.
Was one of my friends from school hanging out at
the top and watching us play all along? Was it
a girl that I knew? I moved slowly, checking every
corner as I sprawled through the cushion and wrote. There
was a strange feeling in the tube and I could
tell that something was up here with me. I arrived
at the top and I didn't see anyone, and I
retraced my steps and I felt something cold in the
center of the facility. I creeped closer, slowly, expecting someone
to jump out and scare me. And I heard some movement,
and I turned to the corner to a new section
of the playground that I never entered before. I must
have been oblivious to this bonus compartment all along. The
air was crisp, and it felt like I was outside.
I was in a new world, and I crawled on
my hands and knees and it opened up into a
larger chamber. I didn't know where I was, and I
rubbed my eyes to make sure that I wasn't dreaming.
And then I was startled when I heard a voice.
It was familiar, but I couldn't recognize the source. I
turned around, and to my surprise was my childhood friend Max.
I hadn't seen him in a decade when his family
moved away. He looked like he had an aged since
the day he moved. I asked him what was up,
what was going on? He just smiled and said that
he had fun at my birthday party and that he
missed playing soccer at recess together. I told him that
I hope he was doing well and that I tried
looking him up, and he breathed slow and softly said
that he was in a better place, and I gasped
and I connected the dots. Max smiled and said they
finally built the playground that we'd been calling for, the
slights that touched the sky. He laughed in replied that
we thought we had it good at Burger King. That
playground on Boston was the birthday party he was referencing.
I was excited to tell him about the tray trick
that we were using to get up speed. He said
he knew exactly what I was talking about, that he
had been watching. I told him to meet me up
at the top and I'd be right back. And I
crawled back down to reality and the light blinded my eyes,
and I snuck quickly and grabbed a tray, and I
scurried back up and was surprised when he was nowhere
to be found. I searched for a few minutes, but
I could feel that he was with me, and I
set up a tray and took off full throttle. Max
was with me the whole way. I could feel this
grip on my shoulders and we twisted and turned and laughed.
When I reached the end of the tunnel, Max's blanket
of energy was gone, but I was not sad we
completed our mission. I knew he was waiting for that moment,
and somewhere in my spirit I was too. Max was
my best friend. But in the days before cell phones,
when a friend moved away, you just wish you had
a chance to say goodbye. I had had my last chance.
What a great, heartwarming story. That's all I can say
about that. I'm kind of awe struck and at how
sweet this story was. Thank you to the writer for
sending it. I really really enjoyed it and appreciate them
sending it to me and for everyone to hear. Thank
you very much. I recently discovered your Dixie Crypti channel
on YouTube, and I have enjoyed it immensely ever since.
But I can't tell you how relieved I was when
I found out that you actually let people tell about
their squatch experiences. And boy, have I got a story
for you since you live right down the road for me.
I'm sure you've heard the rumors about all the squatch
sightings in South recently, Soaltillo is a little community just
north of Tupelo here in North Mississippi, right up on
forty five Highway. He didn't write that. I'm just telling
you that several residents in the more rural areas of
Saltillo have been giving the mayor pure hell about some large,
shaggy hoboes that had been seen raiding their gardens at
night and eating up all their corn and okra and tomatoes.
A Miss Bobby Gene Campbell was the last one to report,
during a city hall town meeting two tuesdays ago, that
she wanted more police to patrol her neighborhood at night
so they could run off those dirty hobos to keep
stealing vegetables from her garden. Well. In typical political fashion,
the mayor assured her that the police would be doing
extra patrols in her area and that she had nothing
to worry about, and then swiftly moved on to the
matter of giving himself a raise at the taxpayer's expense
and speaking no more about her problem. There's a saying
that comes to mind about Bobby Jean's problem, misery loves company.
After doing a little digging of my own, I found
out that multiple families are up in arms because something
similar was happening at their homes. More and more husbands,
wives and children were calling the local police and county
sheriff about large, hairy teenagers trespassing on their property and
stealing the vegetables. Seeing as I had only just moved
to South till Oh and started working in IT at
a local bank, I just dismissed the ramblings of over
excitable moonshiners that tried too much of their own product.
But I can't tell you how wrong I was. Camp.
I have four apple trees in my backyard, each a
different variety, but all of them are sweet and crunchy.
I was looking forward to enjoying the harvest this summer
and making all my favorite desserts. Every tree was heavy
with apples, and I had made up my mind to
start picking them that Friday night, about two weekends ago.
I had just closed my eyes. Friday night. I was
about to get some well deserved rest, because working for
a bank in the IT department is not a walk
in the park. And that's when I heard something shuffling
around my backyard that woke me up well. I leaned
over the drapes and pulled them over a little so
I could peek out the window, and that's when I
saw them, Cam, I actually saw them. At first, I
only saw two of them abusing the tree closest to
the house, pulling on the base of the tree and
letting it snap back to its erect position. But then
I started seeing more become visible as each of the
remaining three started making their way into the light of
my yard after crossing through the yards of my neighbors.
Now I know for a fact that of my neighbors
have dogs that loved to bark at the slightest noise
or movement. But for some reason, they all took a
vote and decided they would remain silent for the night
while those squatches beat my apples trees like they owed
them money. Now, I'm not a cowardly man, Cam, but
the idea of charging out there to confront those things
in hand to hand combat made my stomach turn. Now
I own a few guns, but nothing in a caliber
that would do more than piss those things off. So
I picked up the phone and called the Saltillo Police
Department for help. The phone rang for a good five
minutes before I gave up and called the Lee County
Sheriff's department. They actually answered the phone, and I told
the nice woman that answered about what I was seeing,
and I asked her to send help as soon as possible.
She replied that I was the seventh call she received
about this, and that the reason the police department hadn't
answered my call it was because they were all out
on patrol looking for the young men they thought were
doing these vegetable raids. I explained to her what I saw,
and it didn't look like teenagers, but it was dark outside,
so maybe it was a trick of the moonlight. She
took down my dress in the neighborhood behind the big
blue water tower that says Welcome to Saltillo, and begged
her to send someone in a hurry, and she said
someone would be there shortly and that I should remain
inside my home and I followed her instructions and I
hung up the phone. About that time, I heard what
sounded like a small war breaking out in my tiny
neighborhood and immediately dropped to the floor to avoid getting
hit by any stray gunfire. But just as fast as
it started it was over. I pulled the curtain to
the side again to get a peek at what was happening,
and I saw two men in my backyard chopping off
the heads of those young squatches and loudly boasting about
getting paid. I found the whole situation beyond strange, but
I was happy to see that law enforcement finally got
those things. It wasn't until the next morning, when I
drove to the Saltillo Police Department to see if there
was any paperworker sworn affidavits that I needed to sign
that I found out from one of the officers that
he had no idea what I was talking about, and
that no one from the police department or Sheriff's office
had been deployed to my house the last night. I
asked the officer, if it wasn't them or the Sheriff's men,
then who were those men and where did the bodies go?
I still haven't got an answer for that question. Camp
yours truly a Steve Lilly fan. What a great email,
What a great email. I could wait to share that
with y'all. Kind of a surprise ending there, So I
guess you can all guess who owed up in his
backyard and killed those squatches and took their heads. Maybe
you know, maybe you don't. I'll put up an end
screen for a hint. How about that. I'll put up
an end screen at the end of this video, and
you can take a guess who showed up in Saltillo
in this man's backyard. My name is Bob, and this
is something that I witnessed forty seven years ago near Dallas, Texas.
I was living in Richardson and working at Texas Instruments
at the time. That day, when I got off work,
I picked up my wife and my two kids, and
I headed off to Allan, north of Plaino to visit relatives.
As we were driving along, I looked up in the
sky and I noticed a passenger plane that was coming
in really low. I thought that was odd because we
were nowhere near love feel. My wife wondered what I
was looking at, and I pointed it out to her
and I said, this thing doesn't have wings. She looked
it over and agreed. I slowed the car way down
and was mainly just watching this object with my wife
and daughter, who was about five at the time. I
finally stopped the car completely and I got out to
have a better look. My wife and daughter weren't very
happy about that, but I needed to try and figure
out what I was seeing. It came right up over us,
one hundred feet off the ground and maybe two hundred
feet out to the west of us. It had no
wings at all and made almost no sound. It just
hovered there for a little while. It was probably only
a few seconds, but it seemed longer. My wife and
daughter were both yelling for me to get back in
the car, and so I did, and they just wanted
us to get out of there, but the car wouldn't start.
I tried several times, and I knew I was going
to have to check under the hood to see what
was wrong. As I stepped back out of the car,
the object turned two hundred and seventy degrees, lifted up,
and it moved off to the west toward Addison. In
a matter of seconds, it was completely out of sight.
It scared the heck out of us. I got back
in the car, and this time it started right up
with no problem. At this point, we really just wanted
to go home, but our relatives were expecting us, so
we went on. We saw another one before we got there.
This one was round and flat. It was more like
the classic Saucers shape. I stopped again, and even though
my wife and daughter were crying for me to stay
in the car, I got out again. This time, though
I left the car running. This one came up over us,
just like the other one, but a lot closer. There
were houses along the road that we were on, and
people were out in their yards doing things, but no
one seemed to see this thing. After a minute, it
lifted up like the other one and left, going southwest.
Just like the other one, it was gone in seconds.
I remember this one making a little more noise. It
was an odd sound, like nothing I'd ever heard before.
Forty six years later, I've never seen nor heard another one,
and thank God for that. My wife and daughter wouldn't
talk about them at all for a long time. Even
now they don't like to. That night at home, we
watched the ten o'clock news to see if anyone had
reported anything. We didn't, but there were hundreds of sightings
reported all around the area. Chase planes were even sent
out three times because they were picked up on the
radar at love Field. Since that date, in November of
nineteen seventy three, I have told a few people what
we saw. Mostly they've reacted just like you might expect.
I probably should have followed my wife's advice and never
spoke of it again. But your program is a good thing.
I decided to send this because there are a lot
of things people are not aware of in this world,
and I believe all the governments are keeping them from us.
Thank you for your work. I hope this message finds
you well. I have a story I'd like to share.
It's an old story from my childhood that new information
was recently brought to light. This is the true account
of that event. You may share my story, and you
may use my name. My name is Jamie. She gives
her last name, but I'm not going to put that
out there. In southeast Ohio, there is an abandoned girl
scout camp deep in the forest, miles from nowhere, special
with just cornfields and cows as far as the eye
can see. Very few people know it's there, and even
less know what happened to cause the permanent closure. Why
Because I was there. I was a scrawny, little scrap
of a girl in the summer of nineteen seventy eight. Now,
don't get the mental picture of a sweet, innocent little
girl in pink ribbons, because that wasn't me. I was
wild and dirty, with hair that hadn't been brushed in
way too long, and I was covered in bruises and
scrapes from head to toe. I spent all my time
running the backwoods, and at this point I hadn't known
fear of anything. It was time for another Girl Scout
camping trip out to the falls, and this turned out
to be the last camping trip there. It was a
bit like boot camp. Our dedicated leader, Patty, was committed
to our education of the wiles and growing to be strong,
independent young ladies. I was always grateful for this. When
I got older and Patty insisted that we carry our
own gear to the campsite our selves from the parking field.
This was her rule from the very first camping trip,
and I swear she did this to weed out any
girly girls from ever coming back. Well it worked, and
many girls did not return for any other camping trips.
It was only two miles, but as a forty five
pound kid, it felt like forever. There was a hill
in the trail that went straight up for half the journey,
and I took this hill as my own personal challenge.
I was going to make it without a break ahead
of everyone else, even if it killed me. The other
girls whine and complained and had to set down their
packs for breaks. Several times. We were all supposed to
stop and wait if one stopped, but I refused. I
just kept walking. I was determined to conquer the hill.
As I reached the top, I saw a snake cross
the trail, and I sat down my pack and I
caught my breath, and I tiptoed up to the snake
and I grabbed them behind the head, the way I
had done one hundred times before, and I sat down
on a huge rock to wait for the other girls.
I could hear them still whining and trying to make
their way up the hill. I stroked and admired the
beautiful snake in my hands while tuning out the noise
of my friends. As they became visible, it struck me
how funny it would be if I scared them all
back down the hill using the snake. I smiled at
the thought of them having to climb the dreaded hill twice.
So that's exactly what I did. My best friend Tracy
was the first of this bunch of girls to clear
the top. I held the snake up to her, and
she just rolled her eyes and said, you're gonna get bit.
The other girls did not disappoint and I ran up
to them with the snake out stretched in my hands,
and they took off like a shot back down the hill, screaming, copperhead, copperhead.
I've never seen Patty so mad with her cheeks blazing red,
and sure enough it was a copperhead snake. I didn't
get bit, neither did any some one else, but I
did get in trouble. Once we got back to camp
and some of the color had left Patty's face, she
handed down my punishment. First I had to clean the outhouses.
Then I had to dig the trenches around the tents.
These tents didn't have floors in them, they were just
canvas a framed tents. If we didn't dig the trenches,
the tents would flood if it rained. We slept on
the dirt and I started digging the first trench. I
got about three feet in before I decided that I
would rather go swimming at the falls instead. They were
located a mile or so from where the campsite was.
When I was sure nobody was looking, I snuck off
by myself. I knew exactly where the falls were. I'd
been there many times before. I took off my shoes
and socks and waded in, just past my knees. I
was unsuccessfully trying to master the art of skipping stones,
and that was when I heard a large splash behind me.
I jerked around to see, but there was nothing there.
I stayed quiet and still, and I listened. I really
thought that I had got caught sneaking off and somebody
had found me. There was another splash right beside me,
bigger than the last, and someone was throwing rocks at me.
I remember that I was afraid. It was the first
time I ever felt like that, and my head got
that prickly feeling and I began to sweat. I was
frozen in one spot. I knew something or someone was
watching me, just out of sight. My eyes darted around,
searching for movement. I saw nothing and I heard nothing.
Everything was completely silent, and once my legs caught up
to my brain and would move, I ran out, almost
forgetting my shoes and leaving my socks behind. I ran
all the way back to the camp. I didn't bother
to be sneaky coming back in my absence wasn't noticed.
I couldn't say anything about what happened without getting myself
in trouble, and the rest of the day passed without issue,
Thank goodness. There was just that tense sense of being
watched that lingered. The girls were all packed in tents
like sardines. There were five girls in my tent, and
my best friend was sleeping in a different tent with
her mom since she came as an extra chaperone. I
wasn't welcome in that tent because well, Tracy's mom knew
that I was a demon child and she was having
none of it. Well, I was okay with it since
there was no chaperone in my tent and I could
get up to born mischief. I told crazy ghost stories
and tried to scare the other girls, thinking it was funny,
and at some point we all fell asleep to the
rumble of thunder in the distance. I was woken by
something pressing on my throat and bumping my chin. I
was disoriented as I reached up with my hands, but
I couldn't touch my neck or face. I was frantically
trying to figure out where I was and why I
couldn't get through whatever was blocking my hands, and then
I realized that I was freezing and soaking wet. My
mind caught up enough for me to understand that it
was raining. No, it was storming like a hurricane. It
was pitch black, and my head was stuck inside something,
and my body was wet, but my head was dry.
It took a few moments for me to comprehend what
was going on. My fingers found purchase under the edge
of the tent and I wiggled my way back inside
where my head was. Somehow I was pulled out of
the tent feet first, and my head was too big
to fit under the bottom. My chin was keeping my
head inside the tent. The pressing I felt was at
the bottom of the tent on my throat. The bumping
on my chin I felt was the tent wall. As
something was pulling me out. I crawled all over on
my hands and knees, searching for my sleeping bag, and
I woke up the girls asking for help, only to
be completely ignored. I was shaking hard with my teeth chattering,
and I began to cry. Patty, Patty, and I cried
until I got an answer. Finally she came with a flashlight.
I told her what had happened, and she went looking
for the sleeping bag. She made a large radius around
the tent and it was nowhere to be seen. She
asked me if I took it someplace. I haven't been anywhere.
I said, my hair is dry. See Patty didn't know
what to do other than to put me in a
sleeping bag with another girl. I was still soaking wet,
and that girl was angry with having to share her
sleeping bag with me. The next day, we got up
and Patty was gone. Tracy's mom was visibly upset as
she sat smoking. After an hour or so, Patty returned,
dragging my sleeping bag in shreds. Pack it up, girls,
It's time to go home, is all Patty would say.
When ask what happened. Our parents were told that we
came home early due to the storm the night before.
We never went camping again at this campground to this day,
Tracy is still my best friend. Two weeks ago, her
mom was visiting my farm. She mentioned that she isn't
comfortable in the woods, and I said, yeah, I remember,
you were very much of a camper. She clarified, not
since that camping trip with you girls during scouts. You
know the trip I mean, she said, well, this took
me off guard. I was surprised she remembered that trip,
and I was confused as to why it affected her
so strongly. I asked her what she remembered. She told
me that when they got up in the morning, Patty
went to look for my sleeping bag. She found tracks
in the mud. There were huge tracks. Patty had followed
the tracks up the mountain three miles and that's where
she found my sleeping bag and it was ripped to shreds.
That is why they closed the camp. None of the
parents were ever told. I'm guessing the owner of the
footprints thought I was sleeping in the sleeping bag. With
the extra weight from the rain, the bag would have
felt occupied. The rain saved me in that aspect, and
I believe some kind of creature had been watching me
from the time we arrived at the camp. It had
followed me to the falls and it threw rocks at me.
I think it waited for everyone to fall asleep, and
it tried to pull me out by the sleeping bag.
I imagine it was upset to find my sleeping bag empty.
Once it got up the mountain. I didn't let this
experience affect my love of the woods, but of course
I just recently found out about the footprints. I will
be much more cautious with my grandkids in the wilderness.
M