Speaker 1: I have one story in this podcast that I think
it's going to blow you away. And I've said before
on this podcast over and over, there's no way for
me to verify that any story I've ever done is true.
There's no way I could verify it. There's no way
that you know if it's true. These are emails that
people send me, and we just have to trust that
they're telling the truth. But I have no way to
verify it, and you can't verify it either. I've had
a lot of people say, oh, story wasn't true. Well,
you don't know that. There's no way you can know that.
But this story was so good I'm putting it in
a podcast by itself. Again. I think it's gonna blow
your weave off. You might spit your dentures out in
your lap. If you do, just pick them up, stick
them back in your mouth, you'd be all right. All right,
here we go. My grandfather's brother, my great uncle, saved
a clan of sasquatch by killing a rogue of mail.
This is his story. I never met my uncle. I
may have seen him, but I was too young to
remember him. My grandfather only saw him twice after they
all left home. Granddaddy went into the timber business, and
his brother left the next year to go south to Texas.
He had heard there was good work in the oil fields,
and I suppose he was after an adventure. That is
the way people did in those days, and if a
child left the house and moved across the country, they
might not see their families again. Ever, these two men
and the rest of their brothers and sisters left home
around the time of the depression or sometime in the
nineteen thirties. Out of eight children, only one stayed home
to live on the family farm and help with the
small operation. The other seven went their own way. Uncle
John came home once, eight years after he left. He
stayed with his mother and father for a month, and
then he took a bus back to Texas. The Second
World War broke out, he joined the military, and after
the war he went straight back to Texas to resume
his job in the oil fields. My uncle stayed gone
another three decades until one day a car pulled in
front of the home place and he was back. He
had been injured doing whatever he was doing, and at
his age and with no wife or children, he needed
a place to stay while he recovered it was a
back injury, because Granddaddy told me that his brother probably
walked crooked the rest of his life. My uncle stayed
with my grandparents for several months until he was well
enough to leave and do office work for the company
he worked for. Andy had left the timber business and
built a house on the family land his parents, my
great grandparents, had passed on. There was one brother left
to take care of the farm, and he was my
grandfather's twin, and that would be Granddaddy's job for the
rest of his life. For the first three months, Uncle
John would not leave the house. He was in enough
pain just from the drive back to Tennessee that he
would just sit on the back porch and a rocking
chair my grandmother had bought for him, and it was
more comfortable than any chair they had. John would sit
and rock in that chair and read or woodle on
a stick of wood all day. He'd eat, and then
he'd go to his bedroom. My grandmother knew he was
bored out of his mind, and she knew if there
was any way he could, he would be out helping
his brothers with the farm work. She saw the guilt
and shame in his face every day, but he never
said anything. He just sat on that porch, rocking and healing.
Sometime around the first week of that fourth month, he
got up and walked off the porch. My grandmother watched
him from the big window. John walked down under the
canopy of maple trees that shaded the back porch, and
she washed him begin to stretch his back. The first day,
she said he couldn't hardly reach his knees bending over,
but by the week's in he was touching his toes.
He did a little walking too. He was trying to
build a strength back. There was a conversation at the
supper table about him starting to help around the farm,
but my grandfather refused to allow him to do any
of the heavy work because he was afraid that he
would aggravate his back. To meet Uncle John halfway, my
grandfather gave him an axe, a saw, and a kaiser
blade and put him to work clearing the edge of
a field not far from the barn. The summer had
been hot and they had had a lot of rain,
and my grandfather had not had time to keep up
with it. Uncle John was happy to have something to do,
and he took to that field the next morning. He
would make it until around dinner, which is what we
call lunch nowadays, and he would come back and eat
and quit for the day because he was still having
problems with his back. But after two weeks he was
working full days. My grandmother was glad to see him
feeling like a man again. One evening, while they ate,
a discussion started that alarm to my grandmother. Uncle John
started asking questions about strange animals in the woods behind
the barn. There were shadows that he could see in
the timber when the sun was right, and at first
he thought he was seeing things, but every day they
moved in those woods. Uncle John told my grandparents that
he thought these animals were watching him work. My grandfather
had seen them too, but the animals had never bothered him,
and he knew if he told anyone about it, they
would say that he was crazy. But now that Uncle
John was talking about it, he felt free to discuss it.
And this is how the truth came to my grandmother.
She had never seen anything like the animals they were
talking about, but she didn't spend any time on the land.
The kitchen in the house and the children had been
her responsibility. She told me shortly before she died that
she had never seen her husband so relieved to tell
her anything, and that he had wanted to tell her,
but like everyone else, he was afraid she would think
that he had a screw loose. She accepted what the
brothers had told her, and then she moved on with
her life. Have you ever had one come close, asked
my granddaddy. Now there's a distance they keep and they
never get any closer. Uncle John seemed at peace with
these things, I think, and I'm just guessing that he
enjoyed these things that lived on the family land, and
they were peaceful and had never been a threat to anyone.
Well after that night, there were many discussions on the
back porch after they had finished supper. Sometimes Grandmother would
sit out there with them and listen, and the more
she heard, the more she became interested. Granddaddy told them
of as many times as he could remember that he
had seen them, and he went as far as saying
that the more time passed, the more the animals would
trust Uncle John, and if it was anything like he
had experienced, they would come closer. And day after day,
the men worked the farm and Uncle John cleared a
good section of brush. The leaves had turned and were
falling from the trees, and the men were not wearing
jacket chip. But it wouldn't be long. Whatever they grew
had been harvested, so now the only chores they had
were maintaining the few pieces of farm equipment and taking
care of the cows that they read. And this would
go on all winter until spring broke and they planted again.
Uncle John had cleared most of the brush by this time. Grandaddy,
without much to do, started helping him gather the brush
that had been cut, and they started building burn piles.
They would stop a couple of hours before dark and
stand at the edge of the woods trying to see
these animals. And there were times where the animals would
come close enough that they could see them, and they
would assemble in a ragged order and look at the men.
And Grandaddy said that once Uncle John raised his hand
to wave at them, and it scared them and they
ran back into the woods, but they would be back
the next day. And in all this time Uncle John
would throw apple cores from his dinner pail and the
young ones would come close and grab it, and after
that he would bring an extra apple, and he'd cut
it in halves or quarters and throw it into the
woods to watch the young ones come close. Granddaddy said
that these creatures gave uncle John peace. A front had
come through and it had rained for a full day
and the temperature dropped several degrees. With the dry brush
now damp, it was time to burn the piles of trash,
and Granddaddy was not there that day when Uncle John
lit the fire, so he didn't see what happened. But
as the fires burned and smoked the woods, animals came
all the way in, almost into the field to watch
the piles of brush burn. It was early November and
Uncle John had been in this field for a few months,
and he knew by sight all the animals, and they're young.
He never saw any males and assumed that they were
more shy than the females, or they were out gathering
stores for their winter. We'll never know, but he thought
it was odd that no males ever showed themselves toward dark.
John heard something he had never heard just inside the woods.
His curiosity overcame him and he walked into the trees
and he found a female squatted holding on to a
tree and giving birth. Well, that settled it about the males.
She wouldn't be able to have a baby without a
male's contribution. He watched the baby slide out into the leaves,
and two other females came in beside the mother and
picked the baby up and they shook it, and he
assumed it was to get it breathing, and they helped
the mother down onto her back so that she could rest.
John was surprised to see this mother still in pain
after all that, because she was pushing and he thought
he'd see another baby appear, But then a large mass
exited the female and that wasn't a baby creature. We
know now that that was the afterbirth that she needed
to expel, but at the time he thought this mother
was dying, and so he moved closer. Another female stood
up between him and the female, and he knew he
needed to back away, and that's what he did, and
eventually the mother got up and took the baby, who
wasn't crying like a human child, it was just making
noises and they headed into the dark woods. The odor
of blood filled the air and he could smell it
all the way into the field, and he thought about
bears and wildcats, and that mass would probably be gone
by the next day, and he walked together as tools.
A scream came from the woods, and there was a commotion,
and then more screams from other animals, and John returned
to the edge of the trees, and he could see
that a big male had come into the group. It
was dark enough that he only saw shadows, but from
the sounds and the violence he heard, there was no
doubt that a male had come in. I remember my
granddaddy telling me this whole story. I sat across from
Granddaddy's chair, and a dark mood swept into the room
when he stopped telling me the story. At this point,
minutes passed, and I thought he had had a stroke,
because he stared out of the window and he didn't
even twitch. I wanted to ask if he was all right,
but I had a feeling that he was reflecting on
what he was about to tell me, so I sat
in silence with him. Finally, he raised himself out of
the chair and he went into the kitchen, and he
came back with a glass of water for both of us,
but he drank most of it. I think his mouth
was dry. What did you all do At that point, Granddaddy,
I asked. The silence was making me uncomfortable, so I
had to say something. So he took a deep breath
and he sat back in his chair and he told
me the rest of the story. He said, my brother
was not a big man, but he was strong, even
with his back broken like it was. He had a
temper though. Growing up we had to fight. It was
just a way of life up here in these mountains.
John never backed down from any fight. I think he
liked it a little, even when he was whipped. When
he moved off to Texas, something must have changed him.
Maybe it was the war. Maybe he just grew up
like the rest of us. But he had become a
gentle soul. While his back was mending and he sat
out on that porch, he'd feed hummingbirds from his hand.
He'd fill his hand with sugar from the kitchen and
cup his hand and put water in it and hold
it out when there was a burden near, and it
wouldn't be long before the tiny birds were lighting on
his thumb and drinking. He even fed squirrels and chipmunks
that lived behind the house. Those rodents would sit in
his lap and eat seeds and nuts. Your grandmother would
get frustrated with John for taking dinner scraps in a
napkin and throwing them out for animals. And while he
worked in the fields clearing the brush for me, that
field was full of cows, and that's where we kept him.
And one day my big old bull broke in there
to get to a heifer that was in heat. I
had never been able to get close to that bull,
and neither had anyone that I knew, but John made
friends with him. I walked out there one evening to
call him in for supper, and that big bull and
John stood in that field and John just to scratching
that bull's neck, and that big old bull followed John around.
It was the damnedest thing I've ever seen. Well, what
I'm saying is that he had a way of making
animals trust him. He was patient, I suppose, because he
had a lot of time on his hands while he
was hurt. He wasn't that way when we grew up.
But it was really something to see. But on the
day he saw that baby creature born and that male
come in, something changed. Granddaddy stopped again, but only for
a minute, and then he finished the story. My uncle
John was walking away from the woods at Efting. I
think in his mind there was nothing he could do
about that mean old male creature that was raising havoc
among the females. It was the way things were in nature,
and who was he to interfere? Eye from my mother
made him turn around and walk back into the trees.
Uncle John must have seen something terrifying or horrific. Granddaddy
says that that big Mail must have been a stranger
to this bunch of creatures, because there's no way he
was a daddy or one of the daddies to these
young ones. Because just like a lion'll do in Africa
to kill all the cubs and a pride that aren't
its bloodline, that Mail was walking through and killing all
the young creatures. John watched them chase down and snatch
up if you, and he cracked their necks and he
tossed them to the ground. But when John watched him
catch up to the new mother holding that small newborn
and kill that baby, John couldn't take it anymore. He
walked back to the field and he grabbed that long
handled kaiser blade that he had used for weeks chopping brush,
and he turned back into the woods. Now we don't
know what happened in those woods because no one was
there to see it. Grandaddy and grandmother had sat down
to eat, and we're waiting for John to join them
after work. It was not unusual that he would be
a few minutes late. Granddaddy had walked out into the
field with a light, thinking John may have been hurt
and couldn't get back to the house. But instead he
found his brother sitting by the barn with that bull
standing next to him, licking the back of John's head. John,
you okay there, Grandaddy said, y'all, I'm okay. Are you hurt?
Then the doll like Grandaddy could see blood on John's
hands and clothes, looked like he'd been slaughtering a pig
and hadn't stood back when he bled him out. I said,
I'm all right, I'll be to the house in a bit,
John said, John, walk that bull into the barn and
lock him up, so I'm come in there and check
on you. Well. John stood and that bull followed him
into the mainstall. And John came out of the wire
fence and he was covered in blood. And now Granddaddy
could see him in the good light. What in the
world happened, John, Grandaddy said, I'll show you in the morning.
It's too dark to see now. I had to kill
one of those hairy animals. I had to Jesse, I
had to well. Granddaddy didn't ask questions, and they walked
back to the house and John used a washpail on
the porch to clean the blood away, and he stripped
down to his underclothes and went to his room. And
he never spoke to anyone, and they didn't see him
until breakfast the next day. With a new light, John
walked his brother into the thick patch of woods, and
Granddaddy said he'd never seen anything like it. Scattered about
were several young creatures, dead and misshapen forms. One female
mother was dead holding her little newborn baby. They walked
further and found an enormous creature with several wounds, laying
dead in the leaves. Rain started to fall and they
both bundled their collars up to their ears in the
cool mountain air. I've never seen one this close, Granddaddy
said to John. In all the years he had been
seeing these things, he had never gotten close enough to
know what they really look like. I hadn't either until
last night. They almost look like people, don't they, said John?
Why'd you kill all these creatures? Asked Grandaddy. I only
killed him, said John. He pointed at the big one
laying on the ground. He killed the babies, and I
couldn't let him keep killing them. I understand, said Grandaddy.
I think Granddaddy must have put his hand on John's
back or something to let him know that he did
believe him. We need to do something with these things,
said John. They'll be stinking in a day or so. Well,
my horses lame right now. We don't have a way
to move this big one. Let's let the scavengers take him.
Should be cool enough to keep the smell down. And
they started back out of the woods, and John had
the Kaiser blade over his shoulder after picking it up
from where he dropped it. A brief noisee behind them
made them turn in look and a few of the
creatures stood barely in view in the woods, and that
was the first time John ever saw males in the group.
Granddaddy and Uncle John watched from a distance as the
group gathered the dead from their clan and disappeared back
into the forest. You killed that monster with that kaiser blade,
Granddaddy said as they walked. It's all I had said John.
Now I keep wondering where the males were. Where were
they Jesse? Thanksgiving came and went, and the days got colder.
There was not much work to do other than feeding
the animals, and Uncle John and Granddaddy and some of
the brothers hunted and took a few deer. John would
see ghostly shadows just at dark at the edge of
the woods now and then, and they always came for
the deer scraps after one had been dressed and butchered,
but he never got close to them again. Christmas Day
was nice, with the whole family gathering at Granddaddy and
Grandmother's house. We drove from North Carolina that year. I
don't remember it because I was so young, but Grandaddy
says I talked Gibberish to Uncle John for a long
time while he held me in his lap. I wish
I could remember this man, but so much information leaves
us as we grow old. We spent several Christmases at
Grandaddy and Grandmother's place, and I remember some of those,
but John was not there. On New Year's Day, John
packed his car. Granddaddy said he headed back to Texas.
He said that one or two of the brothers and
the sister came to see him off, and he left
that day, and they never saw Uncle John again. He
went back to Texas and he never came back. And
that is the way things were in those days. A
grandmother died more than thirty years ago, and two years
after that, Granddaddy came to live with us, and this
is when he told me this story. A granddaddy read
books all the time, book after book, sitting in that
chair that we'd brought from his house. We had great
conversations when i'd go to mom and Daddy's to see him.
His mind was sound, and he could hear good, and
he could talk in coherent sentences, just like anyone else.
He wasn't crazy. It's pretty good for a man his age.
I believe his story about Uncle John. He had no
reason to make something like that up at his age.
He never used the word bigfoot or sosquatch. He just
called them animals or creatures. He said those things didn't
have a name that he knew of. Eventually, Granddaddy would
succumb to slight dementia in the last years of his life,
and when he left the house one day and walked
two miles in his drawers looking for grandmother, my parents
figured it would be better if he were in a
nursing home. Well, he didn't. Objeck and his family members
that lived near us were with him when he died.
He was a good man and he lived a good life.
As of today. This is all I know about my
granddaddy's brother John, other than what you've read in this story.
I know that he never married, and I know he
had no children. I guess he built a life in
Texas that he liked and that's where he stayed. Now
I'm old and my husband and I don't travel anymore.
We were in Texas several years ago and we thought
about going to see Uncle John's grave, but it was
hours out of our way, and we agreed that we
would look for it the next time we were back
down that way. But we never did go back to Texas.
And if I could, I would make a special trip
to Texas and leave some flys. A grave should be
visited by family. I doubt that anyone visits Uncle John's
grave though, and I don't suppose there's anything that anyone
can do about that. The land that my granddaddy inherited
from his family stayed in our family for many years.
Each time a generation would die off, the land would
be equally divided among the heirs. And at some point
the parcels got so small that the family decided to
sell it all in one shot, and that's what we did. Now,
I have wonderful memories of Granddaddy's farm. I never knew
about the animals that lived there while my husband and
I owned a small piece of it. Our family sold
the land before Granddaddy ever told me this story, and
I have no access or permission to go see if
the creatures still live there. And I wonder how many
generations of Tennessee ssquatch have been born since my uncle
John say that klan. I doubt anyone will ever know