Speaker 1: I was watching one of your YouTube episodes last night.
A coach told of his encounter on the Tom Bigbie
when he was younger. I had an encounter on the
ten Tom as well. He's talking about Coach Keller, who
lives down in Florida, who is a really good guy.
He's a good guy. He and I have kept in
touch since our interview and really enjoyed talking to him. Anyway,
Ricky says, my encounter was ten miles south of Columbus. Now.
I'm an avid croppie fisherman, and I liked to solo
fish a lot. During this period. We had a permanent
camper set up at one of the campgrounds. I worked
two weeks on and then two weeks off, so I
spent at least seven days at camp to fish. It
was mid February and I was fishing alone. It was
ten am, the temperatures were mild and it was a
bit overcast. There's an old cutoff five miles from camp.
I decided to go there. It's cut off where they
just straightened the river for barge traffic. The cutoff is
five miles long. The north end is filled in, but
the south end is open. Where I was planning to
start fishing was on the north end. Like Oxpos, the
lakes are typically shaped like a U. I arrived and
I shut the motor down and I started using the
trolling motor, kind of easing up to where I wanted
to be. That part is where the lake takes a
sharp turn to the right. I had pulled up to
turn and start fishing, and I heard a whoop to
my left out in the swamp. I didn't pay attention
to the noise, but after a while I realized what
it was. I fished the curb and was going straight
up the bank fishing, and then I heard another whoop.
As I moved along the bank fishing, I heard four
more whoops, and as I moved, it moved with me.
I started to a little more attention to it. Then
I fished the bank for another two hundred yards, and
whatever it was kept up with me the whole time.
I could never see anything, and I wasn't overly concerned.
At this time in my life, Bigfoot was not something
I thought about. I had seen the shows like Monster Quests,
but to me it was just something to watch. It
was entertainment. After I'd fished up the bank, a little more.
This thing kept up with me, and I decided to
move further, not because of the whoop, but I wasn't
getting any bites. I knew where a good top was
further on up, and I decided to start the big
motor and move, and I went a quarter of mile.
I stopped and got back on the trolling motor. As
I was trolling there, it was again another whoop that
was in line with me on the bank. I stopped
and I listened real close. I sat looking and listening
for ten minutes, and then it whooped a couple of
more times. I was getting real concerned now, and I sided, well,
I'll move all the way around to a spot closer
to the main channel. The main reason that I was
in the curve where I had started fishing, it was narrow,
and I was thinking that was my way out. I
headed to that area, which was two miles away. There's
an old lake back there that we call the prehistoric Lake.
I got around there and I got back on the
trolling motor, and it took five minutes to troll in
because the cut is so shallow that you can't use
your big motor. As I was getting my pole straight
out in front of me. I heard the same whoop
and I sat there listening, and seventy five yards to
the right, further down, there was another whoop. Apparently there
were more than one. This area is a mile as
the crow flies from where I was Originally, it's basically
a swampy island. Needless to say, I got out of
there quick. When I got back to the camper, some
people had arrived and I was telling them what happened,
and they laughed at me. I went online searching for
animal sounds to determine what it was, and I never
found anything that sounded like it until I came across
the Sierra Sounds video on YouTube. And if you play it,
it's a fast sounding whoop, but if you slow it
down into one whoop, that's exactly what I heard. There's
no doubt in my mind what it was. Now. At
the time, I was unsure, but after years of research,
I'm fully convinced and I know what it was, and
I believe. I am fifty one years old and I've
spent twenty years in the United States Army as a
military police officer. I retired in twenty twelve from the
Army and transitioned into a Department of Defense save law
enforcement job. I'm trained and observing my surroundings and noting
details at a glimpse. I live in Kansas, south of
a military post, in a rural agriculture area with rolling
limestone hills and lots of trees and native grasslands. When
I say small, I mean if you counted all the
stray cats and dogs together with the human population, you
might count one hundred and fifty in total. My friend
and I were heading back on this rural county two
lane road which was skirted on both sides by trees
limestone hills upward of thirty feet straight up. My friend
was looking down at her cell phone and I was
listening to music, thinking about the possibility of having a
deer or a black angus calf jump out onto the road.
We weren't talking, we were just cruising home down this
dark county road. And then it happened. I was coming
around a curved to the right, and then in my
headlights I saw it. Now. I say it because for
the first time in years, I was at a total
loss for recognizing what I was approaching. I could see
this was not a deer or a bovine. I didn't
know what it was. My mind was racing through the
rolodex of images I had seen in my life, and
I was coming up with a big fat zero. Without
even realizing that I had said anything out loud, my
friend said, without looking up, holy crap. As she is
saying this, we were passing by a huge, reddish brown
thing standing in the middle of the road. This thing
was perfectly still, almost as if it was starting to
cross the road and realize I was closer than it thought,
so it waited for me to pass. As I passed,
I was so close to it that I could have
slapped it. It wasn't a cow or a horse. This
is what was racing through my mind. Apparently my brain
overload trying to get a hold of what my eyes
were looking at. I had said, holy crap out loud.
This entire process was twenty seconds from first sighting to passing.
Beyond seeing it in my rear view mirror. Now, let
me be clear, twenty seconds terrified me beyond anything I've
ever experienced in my life. Remember, I had served twenty years,
of which I was deployed six times in the combat zones.
I've had my share of being scared, but this terrified me.
I could see the eyes as I approached it. They
were blood red and glowing and the evilest things I've
ever seen. And again, my friend said, why are you saying,
holy crap, did you see a deer? Well? I finally
stuttered out, no, No, it wasn't a deer. She looked
over at me and she said, you're not making any sense.
What did you see? I don't know. I said it
was standing on two legs. I just don't know what
it was. He told me to turn around and let's
go get a look, and I immediately answered, heck no.
After getting home, I started digging on the internet and
I came across your podcast and I listened to some
of your stories. After getting a little time to process
all of this, I feel that I can share this. Finally,
I never did fully discuss what happened with my friend
who was in the truck that night. I know now
what I saw that night, and I know I'm not crazy.
Thank you for being a great sounding board. I grew
up in western North Carolina, two miles from the Blue
Ridge Parkway. I love camping and being as far away
from people as possible, so In the late fall of
nineteen ninety two, I talked a friend of mine into
going camping with me to a place called Graveyard Fields.
My car was in the shop at the time, so
he would have to drive. He said he had to work,
so he could only stay one night. Well. I ranged
to be picked up four days from the start of
our trip. This was in the days before cell phones,
and that meant when my friend left I would be
truly on my own, which was fine with me. The
day was cool and it was nice. The skies were
blue overhead. As we parked in the parking area and
prepared for the two to three mile hike in. With
all of our supplies, I had convinced my friend to
help me carry in a cooler full of drink that
we called PJ. This was corn liquor, fruit punch, citrus soda,
and whatever kind of fresh fruit was available. It was heavy,
but I kept telling my buddy that it would be
worth it. We didn't see but a couple of people
on our way in, and I knew the perfect well
secluded place to camp off the trail. We made it
to the Laurel Thicket and then had to find a
way to get through them without ripping ourselves to pieces.
And when we did, it opened up into a small
grassy area with a small feeder creek fifteen feet from
where the tent would be. We got the camp set
up and a fire started, and then we made ourselves
a cup of PJ. And when we started getting hungry,
I made us some tinfoil dinners, and I seasoned some
ground beef and cut up some potatoes and onions and carrots,
and I wrapped them tight and put them in the
coals to cook, and it was great. Around dark, we
were talking and wondering if anyone else was crazy enough
to camp in the temperatures dropping below freezing. When we
heard a woo hoo. I was pretty sure that it
was other campers aways off, so I answered back, woo hoo.
We did this several times until it got late. Then
we decided to turn in. It was an uneventful night.
The next morning we woke up with frost on our
sleeping bags, so we were in a hurry to stoke
the fire and get warm. Shortly after breakfast, my buddy
told me, man, I gotta go. Are you sure you're
gonna be okay? For three days? Way up here by yourself. Yeah,
I'll be fine. I told him my ride would be
there before noon. On the third day, he took off,
and I spent the day getting wood and then relaxing
at camp. Around dusk, I decided to make a small
pot of stew, not that can stuff, but some real
beef tips and vegetables cooked over the fire and some
good beef stock. It takes a while to cook, so
it wasn't ready until after dark, and by then I'd
had a few drinks, and I made a bowl and
sat back, looked up at the stars. There was a
clear night and the sky was beautiful. And then I
heard that call again. Woo hoo. It was still a
good ways off, and I sat for a minute, and
I wondered if I should answer back, before finally responding
with my own whoop. All went silent a few minutes,
and then came an answering whoop, and it still sounded
like it was at least several football feels away. I
sat and thought about what kind of idiot I really am.
If this is others with bad intentions, I'm giving my
location away each time I answer back, and I decided
to turn in for the night. Sometime in the morning,
before daylight, I could have sworn I heard someone or
something walking near the laurel bushes that surrounded my campsite.
And I chose this campsite because it is almost impossible
in the daylight to find a way through the laurels.
At night, I imagine you tear yourself to pieces trying
to get through it. I was very tuned in, but
after a while of not hearing anything else, I drifted
back to sleep once again. I woke with frost on
my sleeping bag, and after warming up by the fire,
I decided to see if I could find where and
what was walking by the laurels. I looked, and I looked,
but I didn't see any tracks or anything else that
would indicate anyone had been there. And I spent the
rest of the day gathering wood for the night to come.
I had a huge fire going before dark, and I
decided to cook dinner the last night of camping. I
always liked to eat good. I was going to have
a tea bone in potatoes and onions. The smell of
that cooking was heavenly. I still had some PJ left,
and I was not about to carry it out alone.
So I started in on making sure the cooler was
empty when I left. After I ate, I was sitting there,
enjoying the night and looking at the stars when here
came another whoop. This time it sounded like it was
closer than the night before. It came from my one o'clock.
I was quiet and didn't answer this time, and then
suddenly another woop came from my six o'clock and it
was only a couple one hundred yards away. Now, I
guess this kind of freaked me out. I hadn't seen
any other campers the whole time I'd been there. I
was sitting there thinking about what this might be when
another whoop came from my one o'clock, and it was
much closer this time. Right after that, a loud woop
came for my six o'clock, and I decided to stoke
the fire and I stacked plenty of wood on it
before getting into my tent. I laid there in my
sleeping bag, intently listening, and another whoop came from my
one o'clock and it sounded closer still, followed by a
whoop again for my six o'clock that was very loud
and yes, even closer. I was getting nervous. At this point.
I pulled my case double X hunting knife out of
its sheath and I laid still. And then I heard
footsteps at my six not like footsteps, but heavy. I
swear I could feel them in the ground. And then
I heard more footsteps at my one o'clock. Oh man,
I thought, what am I supposed to do now? I
decided it was best to lie as still as possible,
because whatever was walking out there was big enough to
shake the ground. It had to be huge, and there
seemed to be two of them. I heard branches breaking,
and then, because the fire was still blazing, I saw
a huge shadow on my tent. I heard my pots
and pans being moved, and the lid of my cooler
that still had fruit from the PJA in it, being opened.
Another shadow from my one o'clock crossed my tent, enjoying
the other one. At the cooler. There was quite a
bit of fruit left in there. The thing about that
fruit is the longer it sits in the PJ, the
more alcohol it absorbs. This fruit had been soaking up
alcohol for four days, and it had to be strong.
I was a nervous wreck, but I managed to stay
still as I heard my stuff being thrown around, and
eventually the two shadows disappeared in the direction of my
one o'clock. Needless to say, I did not sleep at all.
At daylight, I unzipped my tent and I saw all
my stuff all over the place, and I decided to
pack up and head to the parking area asap. The
hike out was uneventful, and I got to the parking
area two hours before my ride was due to arrive.
That was okay with me, at least, I was okay.
I'm not really sure what was in my camp that night,
but I have a pretty good idea. I still camp,
but I'm always armed with a long rifle and a
forty four mag handgun. I don't want to wind up missing.
I still wonder about my strange encounter to this day.
It's what sparked my interest in the unexplained. My story
is not a big story, but an encounter from either
some sort of unknown military technology or beyond. Here's the
story from that strange summer evening when I was twelve
years old in the late nineteen nineties, before cell phones
were a thing with the kids. My mom and I
went to our local department store on a clear, warm
summer evening. We were browsing around the store and I
had this overwhelming feeling to ask if I could pick
up some disposable cameras. I like to take random pictures
of my pets in my backyard when I was a kid.
She reminded me that I already had an extra camera
that she had bought last week. I agreed to use
that pack first before getting another, and then we picked
up our items and we checked out, and we went
out on our way. The parking lot was full of
people walking in and out of the stores, and something
caught my attention in the air, and I glanced up
and saw two slow flying black triangle objects in the distance.
My mother and I stopped at the end of the
curb and began trying to discern what the objects could be. Well,
I was an enthusiastic kid, and I started jumping up
and down, saying it's a UFO, it's a UFO, mom,
hoping to draw the attention to what was in the
sky from others. And my mom laughed and said something like, well,
maybe you're right this time. And then something happened we
didn't expect one of the black triangle objects took a slow,
almost ninety degree turn and started to slowly move in
our direction. We were dumbfounded, so caught up in the
moment of what was happening, along with a strange feeling
of calmness. Keep in mind that it was still daylight,
even though the sun was starting to set, and it
was a summer evening where everything had that pretty golden
glow to it. There were no shadows that obstructed our view.
The object continued toward us, making no sound, and soon
it was at the same height of the one story
department store building, and it made its way over us.
It aligned itself with the road going between the department
store and another building. There were no defining features, no
windows or people waving back at us. I would have
seen those details, because now it was at its closest point.
It was as if the object floated by the metal
was a flat black, like a carbon texture. There were
no markings or landing gear or painted numbers that I
could see from my perspective. While the object moved slowly,
My Mam and I stared up in silence and amazement,
as if time stood still. Even though this was all
over in a few minutes finally I turned around and
I shouted, is anyone else seeing this? And I remember
turning around to see a man that had joined us
on the curb, and I saw an elderly couple holding
each other tight, and a few people in their cars
were looking up. But what was bizarre was that some
people were walking in the store without taking notice of
this big object floating in plain sight. Some wont by
giving us weird looks. While all this was going on,
there were people pointing up at the UFO. It still
gives me goosebumps to this day when I think back
to that moment. It felt more like a dream played
out in reality. Why did only a few of us
see it and others didn't even notice? The object passed
us and then began to gain altitude. Those of us
who were watching observed it float away over the tops
of the buildings. There was no fast exit, like shooting
out of sight. It just floated away and got back
on the same course it had been on when we
first saw it. The second craft had vanished. We never
saw it again. Remember, all this time, people were walking
in and out of the stores and never noticed the
strange object that was clearly visible. It was so close
and they never even noticed it. I don't remember how
the conversations went with a few standing by us, but
we all had big grins on our faces. After a
few minutes of discussing in jokes about how this is
not your average trip to the store, we went our
separate ways. On the drive home, my mother said that
maybe it was a military plane. We knew the stealth bomber,
but why would they fly over citizens so randomly like
that if it was. Also, I've watched videos of stealth
bombers and seen them at air shows, and I'm well
aware of the noise they make and how fast they
can move. This thing just floated over us. Could it
have been from space? If so, why fly early, quiet
over some random people in a populated parking lot. The
questions still swirl in my head to why I have
witnessed something so unique. In hindsight, I think calling the
local air force would have been a good idea. Neither
of us thought to do so back then. Maybe we
were too wonderstruck. I let my imagination take hold that day.
It's something that we should all carry with us as adults.
But it doesn't hurt to think of a logical explanation.
The event might can be debunked, but until then again
it is left to my imagination. I am blessed to
have a photographic memory, and I can still recall all
these details, even though it was nineteen years ago. Now,
I still wonder though, what I might have captured on
a small disposable camera. My mom said she should have
let me get the darned thing. Schol