Speaker 1: So in the summer of nineteen ninety two, I was
wrapping up a full week of army maneuvers in the
swamps of Fort Polk, Louisiana. On my first breakaway, I
decided to drive ninety five miles to Angelina County in
East Texas to visit my family. My first thought was
to stay on the farm with my grandfather, but I
decided instead to stay with my aunt and uncle. My
cousin was there with his wife. They were about my
age and had the same interests as me. My cousin
owned a really nice bass boat that he kept there
at his mom and dad's, and that was what interested
me the most. I rolled in around eight o'clock that evening.
Everyone was glad to see me in. I was glad
to get a good meal. Afterward, we sat around the
living room and talked about all the fishing spots on
the lake where we'd be heading the next day. About
ten o'clock, my cousin's wife started pestering him to take
her out to the old saw mill to see who
was out there. I could tell my cousin was getting
frustrated with her. He wanted to get an early start
on fishing the next day. He need a good night
sleep for that, but she was insistent, and eventually he
gave in. Well, I grabbed my personal firearm and stuck
it down the small on my back and headed out
with them. The old saw mill was where the young
adults in our area liked to go and hang out.
Most nights, someone or other could be found out there
with their cooler, sitting around a campfire and telling stories
and cutting up, or just listening to the radio. Sometimes
someone would show up with a guitar and entertain us.
Mostly it was just a place we could go that
was far enough out of the way to keep us
out of trouble and out of the sheriff's There's no
straight route to the old saw Mill. We bounced down
the highway that ran alongside the lake to the next road,
and then to another that led to the blacktop that
led to another, until eventually we turned onto the dirt
road that dead ended at a grassy parking area where
everyone parked. From there, we had a short hike up
the trail to the mill. The first thing we noticed
was the absence of vehicles. There were two ways to
get to the sawmill, so it wasn't absolute that no
one was there. This just happened to be the main way.
The second route involved an eight mile walk from the
main road followed by a four mile hike through the woods.
If anyone was up there, they would probably have parked
their vehicles here. He got out of the truck, and
I noticed the moon was only half full. Of course,
none of us geniuses remembered to bring a flashlight. But
did we let that stop us? Of course not. We
headed down the hundred yard trail and came to the
first building of the old mill. The sawmill itself was
built in eighteen ninety nine and was made of solid concrete.
In total, there were four concrete buildings. As we'd walked
the trail, I couldn't help but notice that all the
normal night sounds were missing. But I didn't let that
bother me. I told you nobody would be here. My
cousin said to his wife, come on, let's go. We
all hesitated. Maybe we thought if we stood there long enough,
someone would show up. I really don't know. After about
a minute, we heard a rock hitt the front of
the building closest to us, and it landed close to us.
Stop throwing rocks, I told my cousin, I was a
little frustrated by our useless trip, and it showed in
my voice it wasn't me, he spat. By then I
looked at his wife, and she gave me a shrug
as if to say, wasn't me either. Just then a
second rock hit the building and landed even closer to us.
Stop fooling around, I demanded, can't you see you're upsetting
your wife. It isn't me. My cousin insisted, and he
pulled his wife into his arms, and she wrapped hers
tightly around him. I was watching them embrace when a
third rock hit the building, making us all jump. Okay,
so it clearly wasn't them. Somebody or something in the
woods directly behind us was throwing rocks. My cousin and
his wife were getting more and more nervous, but I
was trying to remain calm. I unholstered my gun and
prepared for action. Thanks for the training, Uncle Sam, I thought.
Even so, I was totally unprepared for what happened next.
Fifty yards away, there was a loud tapping sound, like
something hitting a hollow log. It wasn't random. It was
like some form of communication almost like Morse code, except
it wasn't any Morse code I knew, and I'm pretty
well trained in it. It went on for fifteen seconds
and then it stopped. The whole time I was scanning
the woods trying to locate the source. Then something answered
it from the opposite direction. This time it sounded like
two rocks being hit together. The feeling of being surrounded
kicked in, and my cousin muttered something like we got
to get out of here now, and as he and
his wife took off in a dead run back to
the truck, I was the only one armed, so I
took up the rear at a slightly slower pace, checking
our six as we moved. I didn't want whatever was
out there communicating to follow us and attack us from behind.
And I made one complete turnaround as we were heading
down the trail, and there where we had just been
standing were three extremely large shadowy figures staring down the
trail at us. The sound of the truck door slamming
motivated me to turn and run at full speed. My
cousin had it started and was already grinding gears in
his hurry to get out of there. I think he
would have left me there to face those things. If
I hadn't made a death defying leap into the bed
of his truck. I smacked my face hard on the
spare tire, but I made it. My cousin must have
been doing it eighty miles an hour driving out of there.
It wasn't until we hit the pavement that he finally
stopped and yelled for me to get inside. We didn't
say much at first when I got in there, but
I finally had to ask, what was that? I don't
want to talk about? It was his only response. Back
at my aunt and uncle's house, my cousin and his
wife went straight to bed, and I put my gun
away and I sat down in the living room with
my aunt and uncle, who were still up watching TV.
My aunt recognized right away that something was wrong, so
she asked me what had happened, and I didn't hold back.
I told them the whole story. Ah, it's just some
local kids up there messing with you, my uncle said.
But I told them there weren't any other cars, and
the other way in was a damn long hike in
the dark. No one in their right mind was going
to walk that far just to throw rocks at people.
It wasn't until twenty twelve that I finally pieced the
whole story together, and I took my brother and his
three kids up to the sawmill so they could see
the place for themselves. We walked around into the second
building and saw something that shocked me to my core.
There on the floor was something that looked like a
huge net with a really bad gamey smell to it.
That's when it hit me back in nineteen ninety two,
those things had probably moved in and set up house.
They were probably just trying to get us out of
there so that they could go to bed. And that's
the end of his email. That's a great story. I mean,
you know, I mean, and all these years later that
nest still being there or do they still live there?
One thing his uncle said, no, I can't remember who
said it, but nobody's going to walk through the dark
to prank you. The idea of people pranking other people
on these bigfoot stories, it's not happening. I said that
earlier in this podcast, but it's true. Okay, Thanks Steve
for sending this story. It was fantastic, great encounter. Appreciate
you sending the story. Man okay, I'd like to welcome
Matt from Short Stories by Matt. He has agreed to
do a guest nar a spot in this video. I
think he did a wonderful job. The name of his
channel is short Stories by Matt. I love his channel.
He tell some great stories. All right, let's go on
with it. Matt. Here's the story that you did for us.
Speaker 2: Thank you. This story is really really cool. It's thrilling,
to say the least. It's the title of the day.
I'll never forget. Thank you for giving me a voice
so that my story can be told. My name is Bill.
That life changing day was March eighth, nineteen seventy six.
I was visiting my aunt's property in Arkansas to care
for her home and animals while she traveled a little
rock for an operation. Her spread of property butted right
up to the Washita National Forest. That's right up my alley.
As I grew up on the doorstep of the Great Lakes,
surrounded by hundreds of acres of wetland. I was number
eight of chin children, and I was raised on the
water and in the woods, hunting, fishing, hiking, camping, you
name it. Every day was a new adventure. I was
so fortunate at such a young age to live in
and learn about the great outdoors and be taught the
ultimate lesson, you don't have to be rich to be wealthy.
Truth be told, This is the first time I've ever
mentioned this date, let alone, or wrote about the events.
I will tell you since they occurred. I'm sixty one
years old and have been through so many truly painful
things of my life, from being involved in deadly automobile accidents,
to being stabbed, to having my fingernails tore off and
my nail beds re formed. And yet none of that
ever made me shake or consume me with the pain
of fear. Well, as I recount this, I'm shaking. Forty
four years ago, my life was changed in the mere
one day it took for these events to play out.
Everything I learned to love about the outdoors, the hiking,
the camping, the joy of being out in God's country,
all ripped away, gone forever. Let me tell you now
about what happened to me and what saved my life.
It's early in the morning of March eighth, nineteen seventy six.
I woke up at about four am, excited to get
the day started not because it's my birthday, but because
it's a day for exploring in the National Forest. I
set off feeling great to get my necessary chores done.
I ended up heading for the forest at about six
forty five am. I was in the forest after about
forty five minutes. I can't put into words how exciting
it was and how beautiful the surroundings were. It was
quite overwhelming. The only way I could describe the feeling
I had would be the same feeling of being lost
without water for days and suddenly finding water and drinking up, happy, thankful,
nearly euphoric. I didn't need any trails or walkways because
I had my trusty Compass backpack of supplies and water
and my three fifty seven Colt Python I just got
as an early gift. Now. To be completely honest, I've
always been a go go go kind of person, even
from a young age. I was diagnosed with MANNIK as
a kid and had to learn techniques to slow down.
It made me a bit accident prone, so in my
head I kept saying Bill, slow down. Being in the
woods made me feel truly at beasts. It didn't matter
if it was hot, cold, rains, snow, or sunshine. Being
in the woods was my domain, and I absolutely loved it.
Little did I know at this point that it would
all change today, my birthday of all days. In my
excitement of being there, I was covering ground like a madman.
In just a short time, I had covered nearly four miles.
I heard what sounded like equipment coming off the distance
and cross what seemed to be a logging road. After
a couple more hours, the elevation had changed quite a
bit from being mostly uphill. I was fine with that
because my trip back would be easier. At this point,
it's about ten thirty a m and I had covered
a lot of ground. There were no trails that I
could see, so one might call my route in the
backwoods way. But I did find it a little strange
that I didn't see much wildlife. About half an hour
later I made it to the ridge. The view was incredible.
As I made my way to it, I spotted what
was making the equipment noise earlier. There was a logging
operation and several acres of timber were gone. I remember thinking,
how the heck are you allowed to do this in
a national forest. I found out later that there was
a fire that destroyed a lot of the area, and
for every tree the operation took, they planted three in
its place to preserve the forest. I decided to linger
on the ridge another half hour and then start the
t back down. As I took a few steps back,
I was stopped in my tracks by something that truly
shocked me. To my right, there was a ten point
buck lying dead in the crotch of a tree about
twelve feet up. Its head was twisted around and appeared
to barely stay attached. As I was trying to make
sense of what I was seeing, I heard someone in
the distance yell. The man was about a quarter mile away,
so I started making my way towards him. As I
was heading for the man that was yelling, I heard
another strange yell from the direction behind me. It was
a growl hoff scream mix. At this point I could
communicate with that man. The first thing out of his
mouth was what in blazes was that? I replied, my friend,
I have no clue. He asked if I spent much
time up here, and I told him no, this was,
in fact, my first time hiking up here. He retorted with,
here's that a fact? I said, yes, that's a fact.
I believe he was going to tear into me until
he saw my coat and the holster on my waist.
He asked if I was lost, since this was my
first time here, because I was hiking well over ten
miles from anyone. I was taken aback because I figured
I had only gone about six or seven turns out
I was actually thirteen miles deep in the forest. I
told him I arrived yesterday to Arkansas from Ohio. I
explained how I left my aunt's property earlier this morning
for an exploration hike because I'm an avid outdoorsman. He
apologized for acting the way he was when I got
to him. He explained that the operation had equipment that
was sabotaged, several thousand dollars in damages, and on top
of it all, his boss shot a ten point buck yesterday,
left it for a chainsaw, and when he got back
it was gone. He had already feel addressed, and there
were seven men there, and yet it still mysteriously disappeared.
I say, I'm sorry about your equipment, but I think
I can help with the deer. At that time, a
truck pulled into the clearing the loading area. I guess
He walked over and talked to the boss, and they
both looked at me and started walking my way. Hi there,
my name is Carl. I understand you may know something
about my deer that walked away. I said, I do,
but you'll have to follow me up to the ridge
line to see it for yourself. Well, he said, let's go.
We were chit chatting around the area in the equipment
damage and what not for about twenty minutes. As we
slowly made our way up, we got to the spot
where the deer was and I was completely shocked it
was gone. I think they both must have thought I
was full of beans. Just as we were heading back down,
the first fello I talked to said in a strange tone,
Oh my god, they're about twenty feet from us. Was
the buck about ten feet up in another tree. All
three of us were stunned. The fellow that shot the
deer could verify it was the actual deer he shot,
and the other tree I originally found it and had
blood in the crotch. No more than three minutes later,
we heard a strange noise about fifty feet away that
I will never forget. At the same time as the noise,
one of the men said he was glad I had
a pistol and exclaimed that we need to get the
heck out of here. Upon getting back to the area
where we had started from, the other workers gathered for
what appeared to be their lunch break. We all started
talking about the crazy things that took place. One of
the workers asked if I saw what made that horrific
scream we heard, and I told him I didn't. What
he said really caught my attention. He said, you wouldn't
catch me hiking in this area unless I was in
a tank. It was the way he said it that
made me realize he wasn't joking. I learned the contract
these folks had was with the state and was a
bit strange. The man running it said that four workers
had already walked off the job, and three other contractors
in the area wouldn't even place a bid. They had
traveled one hundred and forty five miles to take this contract.
With that being said, I was on my way now.
I had an uneasy failing, so I decided to take
the logging road.
Speaker 1: For a while.
Speaker 2: As I headed back down, the forest seemed eerily quiet,
but I was going a route I hadn't taken before
and was unfamiliar with the area, so I counted it
off as no big deal. About two miles down the
road there was a cutoff on the side of the
road used for loading logs. The left side had a
steep grade going up, and on the right side, after
the cutoff's edge it was just as steep. Heading down,
there was a giant stack of trees, about four or
five hundred that was ready to be loaded. A skid
was parked there ready to load them as well. I
knew there would be a great view from the top
of the stack if I set my backpack down, grabbed
my binoculars, and started climbing. As I was climbing, I
was thinking about the day's events and how I will
have an epic story to tell. Boy, oh boy, would
that be an understatement. Upon getting to the top, I
noticed immediately that I could see nothing at the rear
for support. Whoever stacked these must be good, because there
was a pretty darn steep drop. As I walked to
the rear of the pile, being ever so careful where
I stepped, I was shocked to find that there were
three trees growing there that were meant to serve as
a backstop for the timber. All three trees were pulled down.
I instantly knew three things. This was done on purpose,
it was not done by any logger, and I was
in extreme danger. I turned to go back carefully to
get off the timbers and heard some tree branches snap,
as if someone were walking down below to my right,
just out of sight. I was also hit at the
same time with an awful smell. I yelled out, hullo,
some one tore down your supports. Then I yelled, hey,
it's me Bill. No response. It hit me as I
started assessing the situation. Why would they approach from the
forest up a steep grade and not the logging road.
I was struck with a scared, uneasy feeling, so I
slowly unholstered my pistol. I could hear a pin drop,
it was so quiet. Then a loud, deep huffing sound
that absolutely did not come from any man ripped through
the silence. I knew I needed to safely get off
that stack and make my way quickly to a safer location.
I take about three steps forward when my leg goes
through an opening. That's when the true horror began. Suddenly
I was thrust into a life or death situation, being
caught on a fast paced landslide of tons of timber.
I remember thinking I was tumbling down with the trees,
that if I just stayed on top, I'd survive. I
knew my wrist or arm was broken immediately and my
movement would be severely limited already. When I finally stopped rolling,
I thought how lucky I was, how God protected me
because my head wasn't crushed. I had to try to
reach my left arm because I had been torn open
and I was losing a lot of blood, but laying there,
I was unable to move. I clearly remember thinking to myself, Bill,
you are no stranger to injuries, but I've never been
pinned by trees before. This was life or death because
my injuries and blood loss. I was laying on my back,
facing up with three trees across my chest. The weight
and pressure was absolutely incredible. I didn't realize it at
the time, but from the point the tree started sliding
to the points I stopped was about thirty feet and
the steep incline made matters worse. Two of the trees
across me were about the size of a basketball, but
the other was about the size of a fifty five
gallon drum. They showed no mercy by kindly sliding off me.
Due to how I was pinned down, it wasn't apparent
to me how beat up I really was. This took
place about five miles from the logger site and about
seven miles from my aunt's property. I couldn't help but think,
why me? What could be worse than this? What happened
over the next eight hours would make this day once
in a lifetime. As I was laying there trying to
assess my situation, I realized immediately that I needed to
calm down and try to figure out how bad I
was injured, especially with how much I was bleeding. After
several minutes, I could tell the bleeding got under control,
but that my collar bone and wrists were broken. My
lower body was injured, but I couldn't tell how bad,
and I assumed I had broken ribs, but it was
hard to assess that being smashed in place by giant trees.
I knew I was in serious trouble. It needed to
get help fast. I had no supplies, water, first aid,
or gun. I was helpless. I knew it would only
be a couple of hours before the workers would be
headed down the road, so I was desperate to figure
out a way to get their attention. I remember hearing
someone or something just before I fell, so I listened
carefully for a while, but there was total silence. An
hour or so had passed and the pain setting in
was nearly unbearable, and to make matters even worse, I
could taste blood in my mouth. Now I began getting
nervous because I wasn't sure if I had a punctured
lung or not. I couldn't move and I couldn't take
a deep breath, so it was getting scary. Some more
time passed and I was startled by a tree branch cracking,
and at the same time I could hear a truck
making its way down the road. As the truck got closer,
I could hear brand just snapping all the way up.
Into the truck got right to where I was, I
thought to myself, Thank God, I might just make it
out of here. I could barely hear one of the
workers mention that the backpack laying up there was mine.
I attempted to yell, but the pain was too much
and I couldn't whistle because of how much blood was
running out of my mouth. Another worker yelled back to
someone that they had to mess here with all the
fallen timbers. Suddenly the worker yelled, oh my god, look look,
and after frantic scrambling, he yelled, go, go, go, as
the truck tore its way down the road. At this point,
I was very nervous, scared, and confused, trying to wrap
my head around what on earth he was yelling about. Suddenly,
another truck passed by, flying up the hill. Whoever was
driving was getting down on it as the engine was
screaming up the hill. I just tried to convince myself
to think positive. I hear more brain is breaking, about
four or five loud thuds. Then the same horrible smell
from earlier filled my nose. I nearly gagged and threw
up on myself from how strong it was. I could
move my head only a couple of inches, so I
did so to the left, facing the area I had
fallen from. When I did, I lost control of my
bodily functions and soiled myself. Not more than fifteen feet
from me was a massive, hairy creature, and I mean huge.
He had to be nearly five feet wide with a
huge head. I had heard of these creatures before, and
being my first instinct was to run, I felt so
helpless and completely terrified. I knew I was in serious
trouble because of how much I was bleeding and how
injured I was. I remember asking God what on earth
I did to deserve going out like this? Right then,
when I thought I couldn't get any worse, the beast
stood up. He had to be close to nine feet
tall and several several hundred pounds. He made noises that
I've never heard before. Keeping his balance on that slope
must have been difficult, but one thing was clear. He
was headed my direction. Between looking at the creature the
horrible smell, and realizing my injuries, I took as deep
a breath as I could and closed my eyes. I
prayed to God that I didn't know what I did
to deserve this, but what was happening seemed to be
a bit excessive. I guess that might sound a little humorous,
but I was dead serious. I felt it wouldn't be
long before I was dead. The monster made a strange sound,
and as I opened my eyes, he was lifting up
one of the smaller trees that was pinning me down
and threw it clear down the hill, and again with
a second small tree, he lifted it up and launched
it clear down the hill as well. The incredible strength
was astonishing. I now felt like the definition of a
cat two. I suddenly could breathe much better and move
my legs some, but now seemed to be on the
dinner menu. The beast could literally touch me now, and
I have never felt that kind of fear. The creature
then jumped down the slope with incredible speed, and the
distance he covered was shocking. He was doing something I
just couldn't tell what. I closed my eyes again and
laid there. Several seconds later, I felt gentle pressure on
my left shoulder. I opened my eyes to the creature
leaning over me with its massive hands, applying a bundle
of leaves to my injury. As scary as it was,
with a terrible smell, the matted hair, the leather face,
and chiseled teeth, it was his eyes. I was looking
into his eyes. I said, thank you, thank you. I
could tell he wasn't going to hurt me somehow, and
some strange oh hey, my fear was subsiding I felt
more at ease. Then, to my surprise, he stood back
up and reached down and wrapped his long, muscular arms
around the last large tree, pinning me down. In an
unbelievable display of pure strength, this thing lifted the tree
and hoisted onto its shoulder. The tree was long, so
most of it was dragging on the ground. It seemed
like he was standing there trying to decide what to
do with it. It had to weigh over one thousand pounds.
If he dropped it, it would have crushed me. Instantly,
the beast let out a loud moan and started stepping
down the hill, dragging the tree with it. I couldn't
believe my eyes. I then realized, after I could lean
up slightly, that it was a bigfoot. It's really a bigfoot.
I remember my father taking us kids to see the
Legend of Boggy Creek when I was maybe ten years old.
Here I am in the middle of a forest, virtually
face to face with bigfoot. I heard the beast coming
back my direction again, climbing over the trees right below me.
Before I knew it, he was standing on the tree
below me, looking right at me. It reached down with
its giant left hand took me by the vest and
lifted me up like a rag doll. It stepped into
the opening I had been laying in for so many hours,
and stretched all the way up and laid me down
on the very trees near the top of the pile
that almost killed me earlier. Then it disappeared below me
out of sight. Having the weight of the trees off
me and having some mobility, I rolled to my left
side so that I could breathe easier. Laying there just
waiting for the monster to reappear, I hear the sound
of vehicles from a distance. It turns out the truck
that stopped earlier ripped out of there because they saw bigfoot.
They went to get help, and the boss's high powered rifle.
Two trucks arrived with all seven men. They looked around
for me and spotted me. They all assisted as much
as possible to get me out of there. I was
eventually taken by life flight to Little Rock, where I
spent seven days in the ICU and another twenty two
days in a regular room before they released me. After
I was in the hospital for a few days, the
workers came to visit me. They found my colt which
they returned, and the blood all over where I was
pinned between the trees. They asked me how I ended
up with the injuries I had, and how I got unpinned,
and how I got to the top of the landing, basically,
who on earth helped me? I told them I remember
falling from the trees when they let loose, and then
getting pinned, but that I thought it was them that
saved me. Four of the workers stood there just staring
at me. When walking out of the room, the last
man paused, looked back at me and said, right, I've
never spoken about the situation that day, my haunting birthday
in the woods. This is the first time telling about it.
Since that day, I've learned how precious life is to
live it, live every day to the fullest. It may
be that there are always something that can't be explained,
or maybe shouldn't be explained, like the day Bigfoot saved
my life. To this day, there are nights that wake
up in a cold sweat seeing its face over me,
and I thank god I live to tell about it.