Speaker 1: I was born in Tehran. At age six, my parents
Speaker 1: moved back to my father's hometown, where he founded a
Speaker 1: textile factory. Business was good and our family became very rich.
Speaker 1: We stayed there for eighteen years before moving back to
Speaker 1: the capital city of Iran. When I was twenty eight,
Speaker 1: I decided to go back to school again to study
Speaker 1: civil engineering. I had already graduated from the university with
Speaker 1: a teaching degree. My success there allowed me to move
Speaker 1: to a coastal city located in the northern part of Iran,
Speaker 1: where I bought a two bedroom detached house. The elderly
Speaker 1: couple who owned it before me had died in the home,
Speaker 1: and their bodies were discovered in a bedroom. There were
Speaker 1: signs of a struggle. The authorities determined the husband had
Speaker 1: attacked the wife. She apparently defended herself with such fury
Speaker 1: that she had broken bones in her hands. As an
Speaker 1: impetuous first time homeowner, I wasn't concerned about the history
Speaker 1: of the property. It was move in ready, and that's
Speaker 1: all I cared about. I slept in one room while
Speaker 1: the other was my study, and deep into the night
Speaker 1: I was designing construction plans. In the first year of University.
Speaker 1: If you're familiar with this type of work, you know
Speaker 1: that it's a time consuming task that requires your full attention. Well,
Speaker 1: I kept getting distracted by the strange sounds that were
Speaker 1: growing in frequency. The roofs of the homes in that
Speaker 1: area were made of wooden frames, and it's not unusual
Speaker 1: to hear creaking noises when the temperature drops at night
Speaker 1: and the wood contracts. But this was different. When I
Speaker 1: heard someone knocking on the door to my study, I
Speaker 1: wrenched it open, fully, expecting to confront an intruder. The
Speaker 1: hallway was empty. Tapping sounds like knuckles on a tabletop
Speaker 1: drew me into the living room, but I found no
Speaker 1: one there. I double checked the lock on my front
Speaker 1: door and made a quick sweep of the premises. Each
Speaker 1: room I entered, the noises would shift to a different
Speaker 1: part of the house, until eventually it all became a
Speaker 1: deafening cacophony. I turned on every light in the place
Speaker 1: and reached into my closet and pulled out a machete
Speaker 1: that I kept on hand for self defense. I turned
Speaker 1: to face my invisible opponent, but how do you fight air?
Speaker 1: I gave up and ran out the front door. And
Speaker 1: threw the front yard and into the street. It was
Speaker 1: winter and all I had on were shorts and a
Speaker 1: T shirt. Given that I was wielding a machete, I
Speaker 1: must have looked like a lunatic. I ran two miles
Speaker 1: to my friend's place and frantically beat on his front door.
Speaker 1: Once he let me inside, I stammered incoherently about what
Speaker 1: had just happened. He was not convinced, but he offered
Speaker 1: me his couch for the night and promised to investigate
Speaker 1: the situation with me in the daylight. We returned to
Speaker 1: my house later that morning. I had left my front
Speaker 1: door wide open and was relieved that no thieves had
Speaker 1: taken advantage of that. We did a thorough search of
Speaker 1: each room, and everything appeared to be untouched. My friend
Speaker 1: offered to stay the night with me for my own
Speaker 1: peace of mind. I was less afraid in the daylight,
Speaker 1: so he left me there so he could go retrieve
Speaker 1: his shotgun. Well. The day passed without incident, and we
Speaker 1: decided to make a couple of pallets on the floor
Speaker 1: and sleep beside each other in the living room. Once
Speaker 1: our conversation began to drift, we both dozed off and
Speaker 1: a loud crash like a table being upended, jarred us awake.
Speaker 1: The barrage of noises felt like we were trapped inside
Speaker 1: a batting cage with a demon army of baseball players.
Speaker 1: Grab the gun, I yelled, But what am I shooting at?
Speaker 1: My friend demanded. We surrendered the house and stumbled out
Speaker 1: the front door. This time I slammed it shut. I
Speaker 1: stayed away for a week, and when I went back
Speaker 1: to grab a few clothes, my friend reluctantly agreed to
Speaker 1: accompany me as far as the front porch, shouting through
Speaker 1: the doorway, hurry up, or I'm not going to stay here.
Speaker 1: In the aftermath, I suffered from nightmares. I dreamt I
Speaker 1: was back in my house when I sent something evil
Speaker 1: coming down the hall. It had long claws that hung
Speaker 1: below its knees and left behind a trail of slime
Speaker 1: as it slithered toward me. Opened my mouth to screen,
Speaker 1: but my vocal cords wouldn't function, and I tried to move,
Speaker 1: but my body was paralyzed, and the thing was leaning
Speaker 1: over me, its claws poised to strike at my neck.
Speaker 1: Well Suddenly I woke up. My friend was standing over me.
Speaker 1: You're having another nightmare. He said, I can't stay here forever.
Speaker 1: I told him, I need to reclaim my house. They
Speaker 1: say spirits will continue to linger if an injustice remains unresolved,
Speaker 1: and I suspected the deceased elderly couple who once resided
Speaker 1: in the house still had a tale to tell. They
Speaker 1: had been married for over fifty years. An accident had
Speaker 1: damaged the woman's legs so severely that she had to
Speaker 1: be helped in and out of bed. Neighbors spoke kindly
Speaker 1: of the husband, and the couple employed no outside help,
Speaker 1: and he remained his wife's sole caregiver. When their bodies
Speaker 1: had been discovered, the woman was still in bed, tucked
Speaker 1: under the blankets, with the man lying prone across her midsection.
Speaker 1: And due to their advanced ages, it was a sin
Speaker 1: that the stress of their alleged altercation, the evidence being
Speaker 1: the woman's broken hands, had proved too much for the
Speaker 1: both of them. But something caught my eye while reading
Speaker 1: the medical examiner's report. I returned to my friend's home
Speaker 1: that day and compiled my notes. That night, I proceeded
Speaker 1: to my house alone. I slipped my key into the
Speaker 1: lock and carefully opened the door, and I went directly
Speaker 1: down the hall to my bedroom. I took a seat
Speaker 1: and produced my notes, and I began reading them aloud.
Speaker 1: And when I finished, I stripped down to my t
Speaker 1: shirt and shorts, and I slipped between the covers of
Speaker 1: my bed, and I quickly went to sleep. It was
Speaker 1: the most fitful night of rest I'd ever had, devoid
Speaker 1: of nightmares and the unexplained noises. As long as I
Speaker 1: lived in the house, I never experienced either of those
Speaker 1: things again. While trying to help his wife from her bed,
Speaker 1: the old man had been struck down by something called
Speaker 1: a cervical artery dissection, a stroke caused by an artery
Speaker 1: in his neck, leaking blood. You could compare it to
Speaker 1: the monster in my dream, whose long claws lingered with me,
Speaker 1: powerless to do anything about it. Penned by the weight
Speaker 1: of her dead husband on top of her, the woman
Speaker 1: had slammed her hands repeatedly against the headboard in a
Speaker 1: vain attempt to summon help that never arrived. Her efforts
Speaker 1: had continued from beyond the grave. Their spirits had reached
Speaker 1: out to me with a story full of life, too
Speaker 1: scared to be tainted by a scandalous death. Back in
Speaker 1: about seventy seven or seventy eight, now I'm not sure
Speaker 1: on the year. I was spending on October weekend at
Speaker 1: my dad and uncle's hunting camp near the south shore
Speaker 1: of Lake Superior on the north central Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
Speaker 1: The camp was built by my great grandfather. As usual,
Speaker 1: there were a bunch of guys at the camp, including Dad, uncle,
Speaker 1: and my grandfather and all their hunting partners. Of those
Speaker 1: men were World War two, Korean War, and Vietnam War vets,
Speaker 1: big strong, fearless outdoorsmen. Our camp includes two hundred and
Speaker 1: fifty acres of heavily wooded and rugged land. Our neighbors
Speaker 1: to the east and north of US owned a couple
Speaker 1: of thousand acres, also the same type of terrain and woods.
Speaker 1: My dad and my uncle were hosting our annual woodcutting
Speaker 1: bee for the upcoming November deer season and winter snowshoe
Speaker 1: hair season. The Sunday morning of the weekend was spectacular.
Speaker 1: As usual, Grandpa had made a hearty breakfast like only
Speaker 1: his generation could mate. I needed to walk it off
Speaker 1: and asked Dad if I could go grouse or squirrel
Speaker 1: hunting before we started on the wood. He gave me
Speaker 1: two hours before I had to be back, so I
Speaker 1: loaded up my pump shotgun, put on my orange hat,
Speaker 1: and took off down the camp road. Back then, the
Speaker 1: area was extremely remote, with only one country road. Our
Speaker 1: camp was a mile down the two rut road off
Speaker 1: the county road. I swung south of the camp road
Speaker 1: up into the hills covered with oak, sugar maple, and poplar.
Speaker 1: I was hoping to jump a roughed grouse or maybe
Speaker 1: bag a couple of big gray squirrels. I had traps
Speaker 1: the land with Dad and Grandpa often, and I knew
Speaker 1: the lay of the land. I had a compass pin
Speaker 1: to my hunting vest in case I got turned around.
Speaker 1: There was no such thing as a cell phone to
Speaker 1: call for help in those days. I was a tall,
Speaker 1: skinny kid, probably six foot one, but I could put
Speaker 1: miles under my feet and I still can. About halfway
Speaker 1: into the hills, I decided to take a break in
Speaker 1: my uncle Charlie's seat in an area we called the
Speaker 1: big Ravine. As I sat on the side of the ravine,
Speaker 1: I could hear something coming behind me. I swung around
Speaker 1: in my seat and got my shot gun ready. Over
Speaker 1: the hill came a red fox, on a dead run.
Speaker 1: He came within twenty feet of me. I had no
Speaker 1: desire to shoot the fox, so I just watched him
Speaker 1: slink through the forest dappled with red, orange and yellow leaves.
Speaker 1: I couldn't wait to tell the guys what I had seen.
Speaker 1: I wondered what had spooped the fox, as there was
Speaker 1: nobody around for miles or so, I thought. About twenty
Speaker 1: minutes went by and I felt rested enough to turn
Speaker 1: back north and walk over to a stand where I
Speaker 1: had seen a black bear hunting recently. For about two weeks,
Speaker 1: I'd been baiting bear with fish scraps and such, and
Speaker 1: I obtained from a local fish mark it in town.
Speaker 1: I figured it would be a great bear bait and
Speaker 1: bring them in well. It worked. My intent was to
Speaker 1: see if I needed to replenish my bait bucket hung
Speaker 1: about six feet off the ground with more fish and snacks.
Speaker 1: So off I went. I used another two rut road
Speaker 1: on the property my grandpa maintained for walking. It was
Speaker 1: quiet walking as the frost had melted off and the
Speaker 1: leaves on the ground were damp on the road. I
Speaker 1: walked silently to my bear stand. I knew the route
Speaker 1: that I needed to take very well. As I walked
Speaker 1: over the hip of a small no there my stand was,
Speaker 1: I could see the bait bucket had been pulled down.
Speaker 1: This was a good sign, as only a bear could
Speaker 1: reach up and have the strength to snap the rope
Speaker 1: the bucket was hanging from. Furthermore, I could smell something sour,
Speaker 1: which I figured was a bear. But black bear are
Speaker 1: nearly always nocturnal and only come out just before dark,
Speaker 1: and they disappear before the morning dawn. Big bears get
Speaker 1: big for this reason. As I climbed up over the
Speaker 1: hip of the knoll, I moved silently in the damp leaves.
Speaker 1: Then I saw something big, black and hairy over the
Speaker 1: bucket laying on the ground. It was on all fours.
Speaker 1: My first thought was, wholly smokes, that is a really
Speaker 1: big bear. In broad daylight, I could hear it rummaging around,
Speaker 1: which is probably why it had not heard me coming.
Speaker 1: Its hair or fur was kind of shiny. I wasn't
Speaker 1: thinking about anything but bear at that point and wished
Speaker 1: I had more than my twenty gauge pump shotgun with me.
Speaker 1: All of a sudden, this thing stopped what it was
Speaker 1: doing and kind of lifted its head to look around.
Speaker 1: I had positioned myself to shoot if I had to,
Speaker 1: should the bear charge me. This thing was huge. I
Speaker 1: had a good view of the backside of its head,
Speaker 1: and I was wondering why his or her head was
Speaker 1: shaped so pointing. It looked left and right, but was
Speaker 1: facing away from me. If I'd had my dear rifle
Speaker 1: with me, that would have been one dead bear. Grandpa
Speaker 1: would have balled me out. If I had shot that
Speaker 1: bear and hauled it back to camp, then this thing
Speaker 1: must have sensed me, but I didn't know where I was,
Speaker 1: maybe fifty feet away. All of a sudden, it took
Speaker 1: off on all fours, directly away from me. What in
Speaker 1: the world was this thing? Bears don't run like that.
Speaker 1: I'd spend enough time in the woods to know anyway.
Speaker 1: I was standing there in amazement until I couldn't hear
Speaker 1: it running any longer. I wasn't the least bit scared
Speaker 1: because I was armed, and I knew Dad and the
Speaker 1: guys were at camp, so if I didn't show up
Speaker 1: on time, they would come looking for me. There's no
Speaker 1: way in anything could face those combat vets down and
Speaker 1: live to tell about it. I started my walk back
Speaker 1: to the camp. As my time was running out. I
Speaker 1: had a good mile to walk and I could make
Speaker 1: it back in time. In a quarter mile, I made
Speaker 1: it back to the road I wanted to be on
Speaker 1: that led back to the camp, but off to my
Speaker 1: east in the woods, I could hear something walking parallel
Speaker 1: with me. It would walk when I did, and it
Speaker 1: would stop when I stopped. This went on for probably
Speaker 1: three hundred yards. Whatever it was seemed like it was
Speaker 1: about forty yards out from me. At one point I
Speaker 1: stopped and squatted down to peer under the brush. I
Speaker 1: couldn't see it. When I was about three hundred feet
Speaker 1: from camp, I could no longer hear it. In fact,
Speaker 1: I heard a chainsaw start up, which would have been
Speaker 1: the guys getting ready to start cutting wood. I told
Speaker 1: the guys what I had experienced, the fox, the funny
Speaker 1: looking running bear, and my walk back. They listened to
Speaker 1: me intently, but we had work to do, so the
Speaker 1: weekend went on. I had forgotten about my experience for
Speaker 1: years until the subject of bigfoot slash sasquatch came up
Speaker 1: on the news more and more. I hope you share
Speaker 1: my story. It happened just as I wrote it. I
Speaker 1: know what I saw and I know what I experienced,
Speaker 1: Signed Brett. All right, let's see if we can piss
Speaker 1: a few people off in this segment of the podcast.
Speaker 1: I have mentioned before to the greater audience of this
Speaker 1: podcast that I get crazy emails from people you can imagine,
Speaker 1: and I've never really gone into detail about what they say,
Speaker 1: but I brought a couple up here just to give
Speaker 1: you a little flavor of the kind of emails that
Speaker 1: I get. And they make me laugh. And I'm going
Speaker 1: to read this and kind of respond point by point
Speaker 1: because they're so absurd it's unreal. I have another one
Speaker 1: on my phone. It's the best one I've ever gotten,
Speaker 1: and I can't seem to transfer it to my computer.
Speaker 1: But I will, I will. I'll figure it out, and
Speaker 1: I'll get it in a podcast coming up pretty soon.
Speaker 1: But here's the first one. And this is one of
Speaker 1: probably three hundred emails I've gotten over the years. The
Speaker 1: writer says, I have a question for you. You seem
Speaker 1: pretty balanced and level headed in all that I've heard
Speaker 1: over the years. I've been a subscriber to your YouTube
Speaker 1: and podcast for a couple of years. Thank you very much.
Speaker 1: I appreciate you subscribing and listening, But why the fascination
Speaker 1: with Steve Lilly? From what I gather, he's a paid
Speaker 1: Sasquatch hit man. That is correct. I have no love
Speaker 1: for this type of person. He's a cold blooded killer.
Speaker 1: Or am I mistaken? The fact that you made a
Speaker 1: channel just for him is beyond me. Are you so
Speaker 1: desperate for ratings you promote the senseless killing of an
Speaker 1: obviously intelligent and feeling being. Okay, you have no idea
Speaker 1: if this creature, if it even exists, or if it's
Speaker 1: if it does, if it's intelligent, or if it has feelings.
Speaker 1: I'm just I'm sorry to pop your bubble there. He
Speaker 1: goes on to write, if I'm wrong, please educate me.
Speaker 1: I'm just curious as to your reasoning for the support
Speaker 1: for Steve. No disrespect meant to you. I love your
Speaker 1: podcast in videos, but do not get your fascination and
Speaker 1: I do not get your fascination in support of Steve Lilly.
Speaker 1: Be well, Eric h. The only thing I can tell you, Eric,
Speaker 1: is I write those stories because I want to. How's that? Okay,
Speaker 1: here's the next one. I have two more. Here's one, y'all.
Speaker 1: I have a chicken. I'll stop here for just a second.
Speaker 1: I have chickens in my office. Now, I know y'all
Speaker 1: think that's funny, but we have been covered up with
Speaker 1: snakes this year. The last seven days, I bet I
Speaker 1: have pulled ten or twelve snakes out of the laying boxes.
Speaker 1: They're not venomous snakes. They're not dangerous. They will bite you.
Speaker 1: I've been bitting a couple of times. If I had
Speaker 1: the camera on, i'd show you this scab on my
Speaker 1: hand from where a snake bit me. And I need
Speaker 1: to look up what kind of snake is. But it's
Speaker 1: the most common snake in this little local area, at
Speaker 1: least on my place. But they're these big snakes, and
Speaker 1: they can fit an egg in their mouth. They can
Speaker 1: eat chicks up to, you know, maybe a couple of
Speaker 1: months old. And we do have some chicks, but they
Speaker 1: haven't messed with our chicks. But they're eating the eggs.
Speaker 1: And so now these chickens are shy of the nesting
Speaker 1: boxes and they want to come in my office and
Speaker 1: lay eggs. We're finding eggs everywhere in my lawnmower seed
Speaker 1: and my tractors. See. So, if I don't know if
Speaker 1: y'all can hear that scratching. But she's over there on
Speaker 1: the plywood floor trying to make a nesk, and I'm
Speaker 1: just gonna let her lay her egg there because then
Speaker 1: that's food for me. So I'm gonna I'm gonna oblige her.
Speaker 1: And I've got another one standing right outside the door,
Speaker 1: kind of scoping things out so that it may get
Speaker 1: even louder. Okay, let's go to the next email. I've
Speaker 1: got two more emails. This woman. I think the woman's
Speaker 1: I think it's a woman. She says, you've been honest
Speaker 1: that you've never had any contact with these beings, and
Speaker 1: it shows I think that's a I think that's a
Speaker 1: cut to me. But I'm not gonna lie to you.
Speaker 1: I've never seen any sign, never seen a bigfoot, never
Speaker 1: seen any evidence of bigfoot. And I am a skeptic.
Speaker 1: I've said that ever since I started this channel. But
Speaker 1: I do love the stories on with the email. I've
Speaker 1: listened to your readings from people and that's fine, but
Speaker 1: I made the mistake of tuning into your Steve Lilly
Speaker 1: series and I find it horrific and disgusting. These beings
Speaker 1: are just like people. Some are good and some are bad.
Speaker 1: My experience has been good, nothing like what you portrayed.
Speaker 1: I'm a fifty seven year old Native Mississippian who never
Speaker 1: ever thought I would experience a relationship other than with
Speaker 1: my own family. Please stop vilifying what you know nothing about.
Speaker 1: It only encourages people to hate and fear what they
Speaker 1: don't know. I'm speaking from my heart, and I wish
Speaker 1: you no ill. Well, ma'am, I wish you no ill either,
Speaker 1: But you have no idea what these things are. We
Speaker 1: don't even have a verified picture photograph of a bigfoot.
Speaker 1: Now everybody will say we do, but it's not. We
Speaker 1: don't have us. They've not been studied, they're not recognized
Speaker 1: by any university, any wildlife agency, and you have no idea.
Speaker 1: These things could be vicious and they could be eating
Speaker 1: people if they exist, or they could be Harry and
Speaker 1: the Hendersons. You don't know. But thank you for the email.
Speaker 1: You don't have to listen to my Steve Lilly stories.
Speaker 1: And the reason I write them is because I want to. Okay,
Speaker 1: here's the last email, And this is part of why
Speaker 1: I love writing. This is totally This is on the
Speaker 1: other end of the spectrum, and this is why. Yep,
Speaker 1: these chickens are getting real lively in here. They're ready
Speaker 1: to lay some eggs on my floor. They're distracting me,
Speaker 1: so I'm sorry. But here's here's a great email, and
Speaker 1: this is just to show you. On the other end,
Speaker 1: I get way more of these than I get the
Speaker 1: negative emails. I just think the negative emails are so ludicrous.
Speaker 1: But here's what the man writes, my father, staff sergeant.
Speaker 1: He gives his name. I'm not gonna I'm not gonna
Speaker 1: say his name. But they're from Detroit and he served
Speaker 1: in the Marine Corps during Vietnam. He was in six
Speaker 1: years of combat and he passed away on April eighteen,
Speaker 1: twenty twenty two. I wanted you to know how much
Speaker 1: you're show meant to us. His PTSD could get the
Speaker 1: best of him most days, but your shows with Steve
Speaker 1: Lily always brought a smile to his face and gave
Speaker 1: us hours of conversations during his final months on Earth.
Speaker 1: Sometimes the conversations were hard to come by on my
Speaker 1: weekly visits with him, but when a Steve Lily episode
Speaker 1: was published, our weekend conversations were long and winded. And
Speaker 1: I can't thank you enough for the good times you
Speaker 1: gave me with my father towards the end, and I'm
Speaker 1: forever grateful to you and your podcast. And he says,
Speaker 1: I'm a fan for life, Kevin. Kevin, this is you know,
Speaker 1: to get to get an email like this, to actually
Speaker 1: impress with my crazy, weird imagination with Steve Lily, to
Speaker 1: impress a staff sergeant who served in the Marine Corps
Speaker 1: in combat for six years in Vietnam, one of the
Speaker 1: hardest wards I think our men ever had to fight.
Speaker 1: That means more to me than anything. This man has credit,
Speaker 1: he has life experience, He knows what life is about.
Speaker 1: He knows, he knows so much more, has so much
Speaker 1: more wisdom than any of us. And he got a
Speaker 1: kick out of the Steve Lilly stories. And that's all. Therefore,
Speaker 1: they're just for you to laugh at, for you to
Speaker 1: enjoy the action. I know they get violent, but that's
Speaker 1: part of life. This marine knows that. So that's why
Speaker 1: I write these and so and I'm going to keep
Speaker 1: writing them. And the reason I write them is I
Speaker 1: can add one more reason I write these other than
Speaker 1: because I want to, is that people like this enjoy them.
Speaker 1: There's a lot of people who enjoy them, and so
Speaker 1: I'm just going to keep writing them. You don't have
Speaker 1: to listen to them. So all that to say, I
Speaker 1: just wanted to give you a little taste to some
Speaker 1: of the emails. And if I can find that really,
Speaker 1: really you're a crazy one and get it up on
Speaker 1: my screen on my computer, I'll read it to you.
Speaker 1: But just to give you a little taste of some
Speaker 1: of the people out there and the things that bother them.
Speaker 1: I mainly just want to say, just listen to the
Speaker 1: story or not move on with your life. If you
Speaker 1: don't have to spend that much time thinking about this.
Speaker 1: Steve Lily is not worth that much depth of thought,
Speaker 1: it really is it. It's just a silly set of
Speaker 1: stories about a crazy guy in his crew from Memphis.
Speaker 1: It's all fiction. None of it is real. It's not
Speaker 1: modeled after anybody. The stories are not made to cut
Speaker 1: into anybody else's yard. It's all just for fun. So
Speaker 1: I hope you enjoy it.