Speaker 1: I'm thirteen years old and I live about thirty miles
from Kansas City, Kansas. My family is always hunted, but
we love to fish more than anything. My dad has
fished the who can't pronounce this marry us Desk Conguess
River all his life. I'm just not even gonna try
that one. He started taking me with him when I
was about five. Dad and I had been on a
roll slamming monster channel cats all summer. Our goal was
to catch big flatheads. Since I've never caught one before,
I was really determined to do that. When we got
to the river two days ago, it was seven pm
and about thirty minutes unto dusk. When we got there,
we checked out a few other places before we settled
on my grand's favorite spot. It didn't take long to
unload the truck and get set up, and then ten
minutes later we were already getting big bites, so we
knew it was going to be a good night. Everything
was going great. We were having a lot of fun.
Dad brought everything we needed to roast hot dogs on
the fire, so I was busy cooking myself a couple
while I kept an eye on the poles. And I
love the feeling of being out there. About the time
we caught the first nice channel cat and the fish
were starting to make a run, that feeling changed. Everything
got eerie. All of a sudden, it was still and
quiet behind us. We started hearing brush popping. No sooner
did we zero in on that, than something was thrown
at us out of the darkness and landed right next
to us. And then something else was thrown and landed
in the water well. I kept hearing something stopping right
behind me. I turned the spotlight on it several times,
and I never saw anything. I was already feeling pretty
unnerved when I looked over at my dad. Now I
could tell right away that he wasn't feeling right about
any of this either. That made it all worse for me.
If he didn't feel right, this sure couldn't be my imagination.
About that time, I started to get the sensation that
I was being watched. It was a really creepy feeling
in my gut. More branches were popping. That same stomping
sound kept getting worse, and by now I was almost
insanely afraid. Now I had never experienced anything like this before.
The sounds and sensing a presence watching me, things being
thrown in us. It was worse than anything I could
have imagined, so I tried to stay calm and not
say anything. I didn't want my dad to think I
was a woos even though I knew it wasn't in
my mind. Finally, Dad said, if we aren't getting any
bites in the next thirty minutes, I think it's time
to leave. I felt a bit of relief, but just
then he cussed and pointed to the sky down river.
Instantly I saw what he was pointing at. It was
the most absurd thing I have ever seen. There was
a bright red dot flickering like a star, but it
was going nuts. The whole sky and that direction seemed red.
The thing moved up and down, left and right, and
then up again. Eventually it flew out of sight so
quickly that it was like it was moving faster than light.
We sat there. Whatever was behind us was still watching us.
It was still popping the trees and stomping around. After
about twenty minutes, the dad said, son, went need to go,
and I agreed. It was two thirty when we started
carrying stuff up to the truck. As we were standing
there loading our stuff. Something started popping branches in the
trees across the road from us, so I shined a spotlight,
but again I didn't see anything. We made two more
trips down to get our stuff. We moved as fast
as we could, but it still felt like forever. And
then we got out of there. We were heading down
the narrow gravel road that we'd come in on, and
we were talking about all the things we had just seen,
and then we came up on three big logs with
brush piled on top of them, blocking our path. They
were just laying there like they were meant to be
a wall, and they weren't there earlier. Dad thought about
driving through it, and I'd have been okay with that,
but he knew the truck wouldn't make it. He had
no choice but to get out and manually move it
all aside. My father moved every piece of brush out
of the way. I never saw him move so fast
in my life. Then he got back in the truck
and he floored it, slow down or speak a word
until we got to the highway. And once we were
on the main road. I asked him what he thought
it was that was messing with us. He said he
didn't know, but he admitted to having that same super
uneasy feeling that I experienced. I really have no idea
what it was either, but I believe it was bigfoot.
It could have been paranormal. But what paranormal beings stacked
sixty pound logs across the road. We may never know
for sure what it was. But when things went from
great to terrifying, I was just glad that we trusted
our gut instinct and got out of there. Well, Parker,
I think that was a smart move too. Brother. I'm
glad your dad had enough sense about him to get
you all out of there. And I know he does.
He's looking after you, man, But you know, you don't
want to ruin a good fishing trip if you kind
of not sure what it is. I mean, a lot
of weird things could happen before I'd leave a good
night catching a bunch of catfish on a bank of
a river, and then these lights in the distance. That's
real interesting. Someone told me a story about that this weekend.
I actually recorded it. I'm going to put it in
a podcast in an upcoming podcast about lights moving through
the woods and lights above the woods. That these lights
are moving in and it is a fascinating story. It'll
probably be about four podcasts down the road, but I'm
putting that in there. But it's the same thing, Parker,
same thing y'all saw, and the noises and stuff. I
don't know, Buddy, thirteen years old and you've got to
experience something really weird. I'm sure you will never forget. Buddy.
Thanks for sending the story, and tell your dad thanks
for letting you write it for me. I really appreciate it.
Hope you're doing well, Parker. I hope you're doing well
in school this year. It's in the beginning, some years ago.
From my youth to current times, I've had strange encounters.
I've been documenting beings that many consider myths. The world
laugh at what they feared to understand. This I've learned
over the fifty five years of my life. We must
learn to face our fears and embrace the truths learned
one at a time, Like eating a mammoth, one bite
at a time is easier than trying to devour the
whole thing in one dinner. So let's begin my story
somewhere in the lands of the American Rocky Mountains, where
I now reside. I came to the understanding not too
many years ago that the Sasquatch slash wild people were
to be found here as well. Previously, I thought they
only lived in the coastal and northern lands of North America,
where I was born. But I was wrong. After some
strong encounters and minor ones in my area, I learned
that they reside not far from my home. Having taken
my children on day hikes to many areas, I discovered
evidence in tracks and structures. One day, well, my daughter
goffed at the idea and she rolled her eyes even
and then I asked her to come and look at
the print in the icy snow by the log. She said, well,
it's obviously a footprint, Dad, And then I placed my
foot next to it. It's a size thirteen, and I said,
what do you think about that? And I clearly saw
the realization in her eyes that this track was made
by something much larger than me. From that day forward,
I had visited these canyon lands and mountains. It's not
hard to locate the wild people, even get distant photos
of them and their families. What I share here is
not about the reality of these wild beings. I call sasquatch,
but of other things, unexpected things that I have discovered
that live among them. For years, I have sat on
the knowledge of what I've seen, trying to wrap my
mind around the possible consequences, good or bad, of speaking
about it publicly. But now I wonder if others throughout
the world have seen what I have seen. I go
out and I take long range photos of the areas
I know these family groups live in as. I've done
this and tested ideas to bring them down closer to me.
Some were very successful, and this is unnerving being within
twenty or thirty feet of these giants. But they are curious,
and so far none have been aggressive with me. I
think they are curious about what I'm doing. I used
my spotting scope with a cell phoned camera attached, as
they hang out on average at eight hundred to twelve
hundred yards from where I see them. It would be
hard to climb up there to their hangouts. It would
take hours, and by the time I arrived, they would
have moved. So I don't waste my energy and time
attempting to get close. In reviewing photos that I've taken,
one day, I noticed a massive auburn Sysquatch walking along
the canyon side just below others of the clan off
to the side in the open little ones played in
the dirt and through the sage brush and the pinion pines. There.
What was unusual was the light colored ones I saw.
After enlarging the images, I could make out something disturbing.
I saw hairless creatures, pink skinned beings that looked like
human in shape. These beings walk freely among the hairy
creatures I see on a irregular basis. A dark haired
female stood down slope of a large auburn creature. She
was smaller and appeared to have a head full of hair,
resembling dreadlocks. Now, she was smaller, but don't assume she
was small. The auburn being was easily ten feet tall,
and behind her was a bare skinned being with dark
hair on its head and beard, but its skin was
bear and pink. Over many years of returning to the areas,
I've taken similar photos with humans in various sizes and ages.
With this clan of Sasquatch. I have images of adolescent females,
one with dark hair and one with red hair. There
are a few toddlers. I also have images of an
older couple, both with gray hair. The older mayor has
a long gray beard. I have questions, of course, who
are why would humans be among the wild sisquatch clans?
And are they even human? I thought of the can
M Missing four one one project and the many people
who have disappeared for forty years. I've heard stories of
many folks taken by sisquatchs from mates or maybe even pets.
Who knows for sure, but tales of successful inner breeding
are known. I learned of the Sasquatch genome project by
doctor Ketchem. This brought for some other ideas. Could the DNA,
which is scientifically proven to be fifty percent human, have
happened over time with interbreeding with other species or from
long past? Could there be a mix of sisquatch and
human DNA passed on through the centuries to produce these
mixed DNA wild humanoids. If this were the case, would
they tend to be attracted to more human like beings
for mates? This may have produced what I am seeing
at this time, living humans amongst the clan of Sasquatch
we have here in the Western Mountains. I continue to
visit and try to document these things. The world may
or may not accept my findings, but that's not my concern.
I don't care what the world thinks. From the comfort
of their safe homes, I continue towards more self education
on this issue. It is strange that they seem to
live peace flee together in this place, while in the
East they tend not to get along. Meanwhile, there are
other things I've seen in this region that I won't reveal.
The truth is stranger than myths, and yet the myths
are what is becoming truth in our days. Many of
the ancients of the world spoke of things modern society
labels as a myth and not reality. But who labels
what people see as a myth? So called educated people, governments,
those with agendas, or people who fear truth they dare
not desire to comprehend. In the last one hundred years,
many species have been labeled wrong and are now proven real. Now.
Science was designed for the open minded person to explore,
to learn, to speculate, and to test theories, and to
seek truth or disprove theory. Science today seems more like
fundraising and a glory seeking endeavor. My new study is
just beginning, will move slow and carefully. I have no funding.
Maybe more education closes the mind more than it creates curiosity.
Those who fear the truth will mock it. Those who
fear new paradigms seek to ridicule those who have the
ability and experiences to open new paradigms and new boxes
of reality. I'm not doing this for fame. I want
to share my findings with the world, no matter the blowback.
I think the more we share with the world, the
betters other will be able to deal with the trauma
and PTSD of encountering these creatures. But I recommend that
you don't seek these things out. That can be dangerous.
It is not a game for the foolish people vanish
looking for these things. And as with all the wild
tribes of the earth, these things may not desire to
interact with you. They may just seek you out to
kill you. Their ways are not your ways, and it
is a game aim of life and death. May God
bless you and all out there and give you the
wisdom to decipher your paths in life. Keep open minds,
seek answers for yourself. The Creator will guide you if
you will allow him to do so. I'm going to
leave out my native name and location in the mountains
because the ongoing investigation needs peace. I'm not interested in
people swarming my area, yelling and banging on trees. This
offends the creatures the most. The Loves are a family
that have worked the highlands of Victoria near Melbourne, mustering
livestock and even some brumbies for generations. When Peter Lovick
was eighteen, he was with his father, who was guiding
four city folk on a fishing trip, exploring pristine rivers
and streams of the Victorian Highlands for trout. They were
staying in an old, small a shack the Luveocks had
built years earlier. It was a simple setup with a
roof overhead and a couple of bunks in a small
stove top fireplace. No one had stayed in the shack
all winter, and this was the first trip of the spring.
Like always, they brought their mustering dogs with them. They
were sleeping out on the deck. Peter's father always left
the door open through the night. Nothing in the Australian
brush is big enough to invite itself into the shack
and cause any harm. Snakes and spiders are a concern,
but that would be considered unlucky. They settled in for
the night, with Peter, the youngest in the group, sleeping
in one of the top bunks. At some point in
the night, Peter began to feel an uneasy grip around
his neck. As the feeling of hands on his throat
began to tighten, he was wrenched from his sleep to
the realization that this was not a dream. He immediately
he sat bolt upright and reached out for whatever was
strangling him, to grasp only hair. At this point, both
Peter and whatever the hairy creature was fell off the
top bunk onto the floor. Instantly, everyone was awake and
looking around in the dark, and in the blink of
an eye, this thing was out the door. Out on
the deck, the dogs were barking frantically, and Peter said,
something had me, Dad, something had me. His father, half asleep,
a little befuddled, quickly grabbed a flashlight and ran outside.
The dogs were still going crazy, and their hackles were up,
and they were barking at something in the bush. But
these dogs wouldn't leave their masters side. These were tough, fearless,
mustering hunting dogs, but they were scared stiff. When Peter's
father came back inside, he said, you must have had
a bad dream, son, But two of the men sleeping
on the floor quickly interrupted him and said they definitely
saw the thing go out the door in the moonlight. Well,
whatever it was, it filled the entire width of the doorway,
but it was only half the height of the door,
and it walked on two legs. Peter's father shine the
flashlight on his son's neck, finger, and claw. Like Weltz
confirmed that it was no dream. That night, Peter saw
his father do something he'd never done in all the
years they'd used the shack. He closed the door. It
took Peter many years to get over that incident and
find the love of the bush again. Perhaps it's connected,
perhaps not. But some fifteen years after Peter's encounter, the
police discovered the remains of two humans at the bottom
of a nearby gorge. What was peculiar was the bones
of both victims had been neatly stacked. Many tribes of
our Native Aboriginal people acknowledge a big Harry being and
a little Harry being. The names of these creatures differ
with the community, much like with the Native North American people.
One tribe calls the little ones the jungudee and the
big onesal douligal you guys help me, you guys help
me with that? Do lagal doo l i g a
h l. There are varying opinions on which ones are
the good and which ones are the bad. Either way,
there are certain modern reports of encounters with both. It
can also be hard to determine if the little ones
are not just juvenile yaweys or indeed something different. The
many encounters that occur in Australia are often near civilization
parklands and rural and coastal areas close to the mountain ranges,
not so much the dry flats of the middle of Australia,
but that's most likely due to the number of people
frequenting those areas. While we have our fair share of
witnesses describing dark, brown and black haired beings in Australia,
I personally think we have a higher average of sightings
of orange and red and blond haired beings. Obviously it's
hard to prove this, but it would make sense when
it comes to camouflaging into the surrounding bushland or forest.
They've also been seen in larger groups like families with
one farmer reporting eight or nine of them at once
moving through his farm. Around the same time of year,
a small group of teenagers, while camping with their parents,
witnessed several of them standing on a beach at dusk.
We discover very similar tree structures and rock piles here
to what you find in North America, but we also
find small twigs and sticks stuck in the ground. They're
obviously too small to fall from a tree and stick
in the ground naturally. There have been encounters where they've
completely disappeared in front of a rifle, and still others
when they kept up with moving cars or dirt by
going over eighty kilometers per hour. I will leave it
at that for now. Perhaps someday our indigenous people will
share more of their knowledge. Theirs may well be the
oldest civilization on Earth, and they have lived in harmony
with their environment, so they must know something. If you're
ever in Australia, there's a cold beer and a warm
fire waiting for you. Back in nineteen eighty two, I
had an experience in Bullet County, Kentucky that has kept
me out of the woods until this day. I had
just gotten my driver's license, so I barred my dad's
seventy seven custom van to go on a double date.
I swung by and picked up my friend Chuck and
the two girls, and we headed out into the country
to go parking. Back then, the thing to do was
go parking, indulge a little underage drinking, and explore the
mysteries of the opposite sex. So that was our plan.
We drove down to the Salt River Bottoms along a
one lane gravel road. It was a pretty desolate spot,
with the occasional house or farm every few miles, but
there were a few spots where we could pull off
the road and be alone with our dates. The sun
had already set and we were looking for one of
those spots to pull over, so we were already traveling
slow when Chuck suddenly asked, what was that one hundred
feet in front of us? Something large and black was
lying on the road. I slowed the van to a crawl.
As we got closer, I started thinking it looked like
a cow laying there with its back to us. Once
we got to within ten feet of it, I decided
to get a better look, so I put the van
in park and opened the door to get out. As
I did so, it made a loud, metal clanking sound.
Those van doors were famous for. That thing on the
road popped its head up and looked right at us.
This thing was covered in black hair. It had the
head of a dog with a snout and ears that
stood up right. It felt like all the blood rushed
out of my body and my hair stood on end
as I sat there looking at it, and Chuck kept
asking what is that thing? But I couldn't register a
logical explanation or give him a reasonable answer. This thing
was huge. It must have weighed seven hundred pounds or more.
Dogs don't get that big. It locked eyes on us
for maybe ten seconds, and all we could do was
stare back at it. Then the impossible happened. This monster
of an animal stood up on two feet. It took
a step towards us and put what looked like a
hand on the hood of the van with enough pressure
to rock it backward. My god, it had to be
at least nine feet tall. It had to bend down
to look at us through the windshield, and it glared
down at us like a predator savoring its next meal
right before it strikes. And that's when we saw its
teeth had a mouthful of sharp canines, like a wolf
or a were wolf. The girls were in the back
screaming and crying, and I was frozen in place, and
Chuck finally shouted, get us out of here, and that
brought me back to reality. I grabbed the shifter and
dropped it into gear and pushed the accelerator to the floorboard.
We spun out, leaving a rooster tail of gravel and
dusk in our wake. The monster, that's how I think
of it, rolled off to the passenger side. It was
a good thing he went that way. The driver's door
was still open. At least he could have torn the
door off. At worst, well, I don't want to think
about the worst. I didn't slow down until we were
back on the pavement, and the girls were inconsolable, so
we took them home. There's nothing like a werewolf to
put a damper on teenage hormones. And Chuck and I, oh, man,
that thing ruined your date. Chuck and eyed down a
few beers before I dropped him off, just to calm
our nerves. Of course, of course you did. We must
have been in shock or something. I don't remember either
one of us speaking a word about what had just happened.
Once I dropped him off, I drove home and I
went straight to bed. The next morning, I was abruptly
awakened by my dad, who made me go out to
the driveway and look at the van. I expected to
be yelled at for driving gravel roads and covering his
black van with dust, but that wasn't what he wanted
me to see. Pointing at the hood, he demanded, what
the hell did you do to the van last night? Boy?
I walked over to where he was standing, and I
saw five large, deep claw marks running across the hood.
What could I say? Sorry about that? Dad must have
been that giant werewolf that did it. He would have
thought I was nut, So I just said I don't know,
and I had to pay for a new paint job. Anyway.
A few days later, Chuck finally asked me what the
hell we saw that night. I still didn't have an answer.
The girls were pretty much done with us. Bringing a
werewolf to a date has a way of doing that.
This was all back in nineteen eighty two, so we
didn't have the Internet to look these things up. Heck,
we didn't even have cable until the following year. To
this day. The only thing that I have seen that
even closely resembles what we saw that night is the
werewolf in the movie Van Helsing. Watching that movie made
the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
From what I've seen on the internet, I'm guessing it
was a dog man that we saw. And here's something more.
I have an uncle and three cousins who were all
police officers. A few months after this happened, I was
playing Nicholin dime poker with the family when I overheard
my cousin, a Jefferson County canine officer, saying that a
woman's body was found up in a tree and torn
to shreds at tom Wallace Park. I took him outside
and told him the story of what happened to my
friends and me just a few months earlier. Although he
did listen intently at the time, albeit with a look
of bewilderment on his face, we never spoke of it again.
Years later, he was shot and killed in the line
of duty. I don't know exactly what I saw out
there on that gravel road that night, but I do
know that it was bad, nasty, evil and deadly. God
only knows what would have happened if we'd already been
parked there and it crept up on us. I'm not
afraid of the woods, but I'm terrified of what I
know is out there lurking around in them. Just look
at all the people who go missing, never to be
seen or heard from again