Speaker 1: This is an email from a woman named Shelley, and
she's from the Pacific Northwest. And this is a really
interesting kind of violent story. It's pretty scary. She begins
the email. She tells me she's a seventy year old
retired nurse. She's a twenty seven year veteran of the
Navy and the Army. She was in from nineteen sixty
seven to nineteen ninety four. She's been to Japan and
Saudi Arabia, and she deals with veterans who suffer from PTSD.
She's also a disabled combat veteran due to exposures to
environmental contaminants in the area that her unit was in
in nineteen ninety one. Gustin, that was kuwait. But here's
what she writes. I grew up in Oregon and frequently
went hunting and fishing with my father every year since
I could hold a fishing pole or legally hunt with him.
I guess you might say that I knew most of
the animals that are normally found in the area near
where I lived and hunted during these expeditions into the wilds.
I've never seen, heard, or smelled anything that might be
evidence of a sasquatch that lived in the areas where
we hunted. I've also been skeptical that such a creature
existed even after the Patterson film was released. While I
was on active duty, I came home on leave for
hunting season, which occurs around my dad and my own
birthday every year. The last hunting seasons that I went
with my father before he could no longer hunt. This
last hunt trip was near the area where my encounter
would occur, and we've seen bears and big cats and
elk and deer in that area. I have three cats,
and I've always kept three since I left active duty.
My cat's age and pass on, and I take them
and bury them in the same area that all of
our pets have been buried over the years. Since there
are bears in the area of our little pet cemetery,
I carry a side arm when I'm up there. I
also remain alert to the sounds around me because of
bearing big cats. My big time cat, I'm going to
try to pronounce his name, Shot in Yeger. Shot in Yeger.
It's a German name. I'd spell it for you, but
just suffice it to say Shot in Yeger passed away
the day before the encounter. On June eighteenth of twenty nineteen,
the afternoon of the nineteenth, I took him up to
the little pet Cemetery below Harness Mountain, which is located
in Douglas County in Oregon. I was digging the small
grave and was nearly done when I heard what I
thought was a bear moving through their brush on the
small hill above the pond. The breeze shifted and I
got a whiff of a strong musky smell, and I
thought I had a bear, either stalking me or passing
close by. I drew my pistol and I chambered around,
and what happened next caught me totally by surprise. There
was a loud grunt and something started to stomp through
the trees, and it was snapping branches as it went.
The dry ground made the stomping sound like hollow drum beats. Well,
I finished digging the grave while the creature circled me,
stomping and grunning, And when it was the opposite of
me across the pond, it picked up a big rock
about the size of a medium Hermiston watermelon and threw
it across the pine toward me. It landed a short
distance from the bank, and it splashed water up to
where I was digging. Well. This was disconcerting, so I
finished the burial without any ceremony, and I stacked some
large rocks on the grave that I had hauled up
with me to protect it, and then I I got
ready to leave. While I was still there, I heard
branches being snapped, and at one point I saw a
large snag maybe twenty feet tall and a good eighteen
inches thick get pushed over. I finished up, and then
I loaded my tools back into the pickup and I
got ready to drive off, and I heard another loud
grunt from the hill behind me. I got in and
pulled out onto the main road and started to drive away.
As I passed through a clump of brush near the
swampy area, a rock came flying from the brush and
hit my windshield, knocking a big round chip out of
it down the road a bit. A long piece of
branch hit the pickup and landed in the bed. So
I sped up and I got out of there. The
rock that hit the windshield had dropped down into the
opening between the windshield and under the rear edge of
the hood and The rock was larger than a soft ball,
and the branch measured eight feet long and four inches
thick along the length. It was too large and heavy
to have been easily thrown by a human. After reflecting
on this encounter, there must have been more than one
of them, based on the distance between where the rock
was thrown and where the branch was thrown. I went
back up there a couple of weeks later to check
on the fresh grave to be sure that it had
not been dug up by a wild predator, and I
planted some native iris. The new grave was untouched, but
on top of the three little graves, I found that
some large flat river rocks had been placed on top.
The nearest source for those type of rocks was fifteen
miles away. As I was leaving on this trip, another
rock was thrown at my pickup. It was as I
drove away, and this one landed in the bed, doing
no damage. The rock was close to the same type
and size as those being used on the newer logging
roads in the area. In the summer of twenty nineteen,
it was a dry year and many of the springs
had dried up. In the pond was probably the only
source of water near These creatures may have been trying
to drive me so that they could access the water.
I never saw the creatures that I encountered, but one
thing is for sure. Bears don't stomp, nor can they
throw rocks or sticks. I've heard later that when sisquatch
throws rocks, they lobbed them underhanded. But the rocks that
were thrown at me were thrown with a flat trajectory,
like a baseball. I didn't take time to search for
the tracks or any other evidence of what had been
trying to intimidate me. I felt that I was not
welcome in that area, at least when I was there.
There has been elkin deer hunting since my encounter, so
many of these creatures have moved on. It has now
been a year since I've been up there last, but
I will be going back when my elderly cat passes on.
Since this encounter, I have a video camera set up
in my pickup and I now explore the back roads
in the area where I live, and when I record
the intro to each video, I jokingly say, maybe I'll
catch the big Harry Goull on this trip. Well, I
guess maybe I'm looking to catch one of these creatures
on video, but I enjoy the videos of wildlife, wildflowers, mountains,
waterfalls and whatever I do find. And she signs off
as Shelley of the PNW, and she reminds me that
PNW means Pacific Northwest. I actually knew that one. Can
you believe that that's one of them? I actually knew,
But I thought this was a crazy story. I mean,
you've got a pet cemetery. I don't know. Whenever we
have pets die, we just kind of we just bury
them in the yard, or you know, if it's not
a real close pet, or if it's a chicken or something,
we just throw them out in the woods and let
the predators get them or scavengers. But the pet cemetery thing,
that's kind of a neat idea to find a place
out in the middle of nowhere and bury your pets.
I like that idea. I've never thought of that. To
be there saying goodbye to a treasured pet and then
be harassed by bigfoot is And I know people say, well,
you're in their area, blah blah blah. If they're as
smart as people think they are, then they know what
this woman's doing. She's carrying a dead cat. She's digging
a hole to bury the cat. She's not coming in
moving in on their territory. And if they're as smart
as people think they are, they should know that. And
I don't. It kind of bothers me that they harass
people that are just not doing much of anything but
walking or whatever. I mean, I'm not really mad about it.
I'm just like, I don't know. I guess I have
a bit of a heart for this woman because she's
bearing a pet. We have a lot of pets, and
I love them. And I don't know. I'm just rambling on,
but I thought it was a great story. You know,
obviously they can be dangerous. One of those rocks could
have come through the windshield and hit her in the
head and killed her. Come on, that stick four inches
round and eight feet long. That's a dangerous weapon. That's
the way it went. And she doesn't seem to be
too scared, so she says she's going back out there.
I think that's pretty cool. I think that's pretty cool.
So thanks Shelly for sending the story. In nineteen eighty two,
when I was in the Air Force and stationed at
Fairchild Air Force Base and spoke in Washington. I was
training to be a survival instructor, so I spent a
great deal of time in the Connects, Sue, I don't
know Ka, n IKSU connect Sioux National Forests. I've always
loved the piece I feel when I'm out in nature.
I've never hunted, but did a lot of camping and fishing.
While I was in training. I had to learn to
set traps and field dress game and tan hides. Also
learned to make jerky and smoked fish and a smoker
that we made in camp. I know how to live
out in the middle of nowhere. In nineteen eighty two,
my ex husband and I drove from spoke In to
the West Coast Beach outside of Seattle to spend the
day and have some fun. It was off season, so
we had the beach to ourselves. The drive back was
long and we started late for home. We were both exhausted,
so we decided to make camp. On the way back.
We found a stretch of woods between the road and
the river. It was pretty far back in there, but
the state or county had set up a little camping
area with brick grills and stone picnic tables. Because it
was late in the year, it was getting chilly. No
one else was around, which meant it would be quiet
and peaceful. We set up our tent and we made
a fire and ate dinner, and then we went to bed.
And something woke me up at two am, but I
didn't know what it was. I lay there listening, thinking
maybe an animal of some sort was walking around the campsite.
I was wide awake now, but I couldn't hear anything now.
I didn't notice before we went to sleep, but now
I was aware that there were no sounds of insects, birds,
or any other animals. It was just too quiet. I
tried to convince myself that it was because it was
so cold out, and I tried to go back to sleep,
and the longer I laid there, the more antsy I got.
I didn't know why, but I was uncomfortable and I
was scared. It got so bad that I had to
get up and see if there was anything going on outside.
I climbed out of the tent, doing my best not
to wake my husband. He had a way of making
me feel like an idiot and laughing at me about
these things. Since I was already upset, I didn't feel
like I needed the extra burden of him picking at me.
And I sat there at the picnic table, watching and listening,
but I couldn't find anything wrong. Even so, this uneasy
feeling I had was getting worse. After thirty minutes with
nothing going on, I kicked myself in the butt for
being so silly, and I crawled back in the tent.
I still couldn't go back to sleep. In fact, I
was growing more and more afraid. Finally I decided to
get back out. For some reason, I knew there was
something out there that was dangerous and I couldn't see it.
More than anything, I wanted to leave, but I was
worried about waking my husband up for something that I
couldn't explain. The terror built until I began to cry,
even though I still didn't know why. When I couldn't
take it anymore, I woke him up, and when I
tried to explain what I was feeling, I was astonished
to find that he didn't make fun of me or
get mad. He just got up and started packing. We
loaded up the car, and we left, without ever knowing
the reason for my terror. Now i've thought about it
often over the years, and I've tried to work out
why the whole thing happened. Then, in twenty eleven, I
learned about the capture of Geary Ridgeway, the Green River Killer.
The river we can't buy was the Green River, and
we could see the bridge where he'd dumped one of
his victims from where we camp. I've often pondered what
I was so afraid of that night, and could it
have been something to do with him or his victims.
I've never had the gift of discernment that my little
sister has, nor have I ever had a supernatural experience.
I don't know why I would have been so afraid
of something that I couldn't see. After listening to your storytelling,
I have to wonder if that uncomfortable feeling was because
a sasquatch was nearby. It seems that others have felt
that way when they've had their experiences. I'll never know why.
Was it a serial killer, was it a sasquatch or
was it just me? Gary Ridgeway was caught due in
part to the assistance of Ted Bundy. Bundy offered his help,
and ultimately because of his advice, they caught Ridgeway. It
was nearly twelve years after Bundy died, but it was
by acting on Bundy's intricate knowledge and understanding of his
own kind that they were eventually able to arrest and
convict Ridgeway. Here's a story about a bigfoot in Virginia.
This is really good and it's got some interesting twists
and a little bit of trivia with it. The writer
gives the story a title, The Danville wild Man, and
he actually writes it's a true experience by Posey Gilbert.
Now I don't know if he's the author or what.
But I don't know, but I'm gonna read the story
he sent it. So when people send me a story,
I assume they wanted on the podcast. So that's what
I'm doing here. In nineteen fifty eight, my parents and
my siblings and I went to visit my grandmother's parents
who lived back in the mountains and rolling hills of Danville, Virginia.
Whenever it started to get dark, Grannie would say, it's
time for y'all to come inside now, because the wild
Man would be coming out soon. How do you like
that voice? I'm practicing on doing some voices. Anyway, let's
move on. I was seven then and always imagined a skinny,
little unshaven cartoon cave man running around in the leopard
skin carrying a big club. I thought it was really
just another Boogeyman story to keep kids in line. At
least that's what my older brother Chuck said it was
when I asked him about it the next day. As
she often did, my Aunt Bella, to keep us from underfoot,
told her two oldest sons, Billy and Jimmy, to take
us with them into the woods when they went to
gather some firewood. As we scoured the forest floor for
kindling and dry broken branches, Billy and Jimmy took to
showing us the various wild berries and plants and roots
and mushrooms that we could eat and those that were
poison us and that we should not even touch. We
came on a clearing that was surrounded by tall trees,
and Jimmy said it would be better if we spread
out a bit and looked around. The truth is that
this was an adventure for Chuck and Ie, but this
was just another chore for them. Board they climbed the
two giant trees in the clearing and they watched Chuck
and Ie. As we did their work. I was assigned
the kindling, while Chuck was told to look for the
thicker branches. They knew that we wouldn't find anything in
that clearing, but that way they could keep us busy
in an eye on both of us at the same
time time. I was getting frustrated because I couldn't find anything.
And then I went to the edge of the clearing
and I saw that it dropped off on to the
lower level. I saw what I thought was a pile
of twigs and branches, and I jumped down and I
ran over to it. And as I neared the pile,
I found myself not standing before a mound of twigs
and branches, but in front of what looked like an
igloo of woven branches and sticks, or a big upside
down burd nest. I immediately started to call for Chuck,
and in a matter of seconds, he and my two
cousins were standing at the top of the bank. They
were all out of breath and pale with worry as
they looked down at me. What the hell are you
screaming like that for, Billy asked, I thought it was
a damn snake. It got a hold of you, Jimmy
scolded me. They had gotten there so fast that it
startled me. They must have started to run toward me
when they saw me jump down off the bank. What
did you come down here for, anyway, Chuck asked, between gasp.
Look look what I found, I said, happily, pointing to
my discovery. I ran over and started to crawl into
the opening. Boy, get your ass out of there, Jimmy
screamed to me. That could be a bear cave. That
ain't no bear cave, I encountered. You can look right
through the branches and you can see there's nothing in there. Yeah,
but the bear might be coming back. We need to go,
Billy said, ending the conversation. Let's go. I think we
got enough wood. Anyway. We never spoke about it again
after that, but it's like anything strange that happened to me,
and it never left my mind. What was that thing
and who had built it? For years afterwards, it would
cross my mind. And then last year on Monster Quest
they did a program on what they call the grass
people or the Grassman of Ohio, which was another name
used for Bigfoot like creatures. I was cooking and not
really watching it until they flashed a picture of the
thing I found that day out in the woods with Chuck,
Billy and Jimmy. There's also a documentary called Southern Fried Bigfoot,
and in it they talk about the fact that Bigfoot
has a lot of different names boogers, wildman, skunk apes,
depending on the locality it is being seen in, but
it is all the same or similar creatures. The name
they commonly use for it in Virginia is the wild Man.
In fact, when you enter Danville, there's a sign that says,
Welcome to Danville, Home of the Bigfoot. Well, shouldn't that
say home of the wild Man? If they use I
don't know. He gives a link for the Monster Quest
Ohio Grassman Part one video. I guess it's a YouTube video,
and there's also a Monster Quest Ohio Grassman Part two,
Legend of Boggie Creek. Now, how could it be The
Ohio Grassman Part two? The Legend of Boggy Creek Boggy
Creek in Arkansas. I don't know. There's a few things
in there that just kind of confuse me. However, it
was a good The meat of the whole thing was
a good story. The shelter that he found that. You know,
those things don't just build themselves out there in the wild.
So it's either a person going out there, I don't know,
maybe being creative, or it's some kind of animal that
is able to use its hands and actually build a structure,
because no other animal, save a monkey, can build those
kind of things because they don't have hands and arms
to manipulate things. I mean, raccoons do, but they're not
strong enough to bend those type of limbs. Let's see
what other animal has hands. Possums kind of do, but
I don't know that they use them for manipulate them.
I know raccoons do because they clean their food and
they you know, they feed themselves with their hands. Bears
have pauls, but they don't really use them to manipulate things.
They just use them to capture and climb and stuff
like that. Anyway, my mind is just wondering, and I'm
rambling on all that to say, this was a great
story and I really appreciate the man sending it. Thank you, sir.