Tonight's encounter comes to you from long ago. We're pulling this one out of the vault. My son keeps urging me to write to you, so I figured I would. Back when I was about 25 and painfully single, while everyone else around me had their spouses and children, my family was getting ready for our yearly Sioux coat camp out on my parents' property. We are Jewish, and Sioux coat is our favorite holiday to celebrate. Well, it was when we were all speaking to one another.
My family would cook everything outside and over the large fire we would have going constantly. I would indulge in a nice hot cup of hot chocolate every morning as I sat by the fire. And every night I would enjoy going to bed with the smell of campfire on my clothes. By the way, we live in Washington State. Fun fact, the area my parents live in used to be called Bigfoot Valley, but it was eventually changed to Williams Valley.
Also, I just recently learned that if you snipe Sasquatch in one county in Washington State, you're on the hook for a $10,000 fine and up to five years in jail. Anyway, back to my story. We all had our tent set up in our homemade campground on the property. Not far from each other, but far enough to have some privacy. I was the only one without someone in my tent. We all had walkie talkies just in case we needed a radio in the middle of the night.
We had all just set our good nights to one another and got settled into our tents. One thing to note about my tent. Earlier in the day as we were setting up the tents and putting the rain fly on my tent, I noticed it didn't go all the way to the ground. So if something wanted to peek in my tent, they most certainly could. I was unnerved by this, but was assured nothing would be looking into my tent.
As I lay in my comfy sleeping bag, my eyes closed, I was just starting to warm up when I heard it. The sound of something stepping on a small twig, and it breaking from the weight of the thing stepping on it. My eyes start open and start looking around. I need to mention this so the rest of my story makes sense. Where this campground is is located not far from my parents' house, and there's a big flood light on the garage that stays on all night.
So the way it was shining allowed me to see shadows of whatever is outside of my tent. And where my tent was located, I was nestled in a cubby of trees and near the storage that my parents have on their property. It was the perfect spot for me because it blocked the light from the garage from shining in my face all night long. Okay, back to the noise of the twig breaking.
As I looked around, I noticed a very large shadow standing next to one of the trees at the head of my tent that was not there before. I guess it was eight to nine feet tall. No antlers, just a person-shaped figure. I was terrified, and as quietly as I could, I got down into my sleeping bag, covered myself, and radioed to the family with the quietest whisper I could muster. There's something really big outside my tent.
My brother-in-law radioed back asking, "What?" also in a whisper, so I repeated my first message. He got his gun and came out of his tent and looked around, but he didn't see anything. I do my surprise, the shadow was gone without a sound. The next morning it was the main topic of discussion. Everyone asked what I saw or thought I saw. I told my side of the story. I had mentioned I was terrified the figure was going to bend down and look into my tent and see me.
Some of my family speculated it was probably a moose, some said a raccoon. I suggested Bigfoot. They laughed and said, "No, it was probably just a raccoon." To this day I have zero doubt it was the hide and seek champion himself. Earlier this year, in October, I had the chance to go to a Bigfoot conference. It was one of the best experiences of my life. Is that sad? Well, I got to meet some famous Bigfoot legends like Matt Moneymaker, Jeff Meldrum, and Mel Skahan, and my favorite Bob Gimlin.
I cried getting to meet him and to celebrate his 93rd birthday with him. I heard some unbelievable, but believable, encounter stories from so many people. Many that left me with my mouth gaping or a permanent smile like a kid in a toy store. I wish I had time to tell you all about all the stories I heard. But one thing I got to do is to talk with Mel Skahan. And while I was there I told him my story. He said, "Do you believe you saw Bigfoot?" I said, "I think so."
To a cheap point it out, "I believe you know you saw him. Stop saying you think, because deep down you know." He said it with a smile and in a kind way, not in a rude way. He believes that I encountered Bigfoot and that it cloaked once my brother-in-law came out of his tent. I tend to agree with him, because there was absolutely no sound of something running away. Just complete silence.
Mel invited me to come out this spring or summer to go camping with a bunch of others, so we can have a positive Bigfoot encounter. I think I'm going to take him up on his offer. And when I have my next encounter, I think it will be more exciting than this one. I hope my story didn't put any of you to sleep. I hope it was enjoyable, even if just a little bit. Love and Squatchiness signed Bethany.
I'm from a small town in the middle of nowhere Mississippi, specifically East Central Mississippi, where there are many creeks, lakes and swamps. I was hunting for white-tailed deer. I hunt from a shoothouse, elevated eight feet off the ground, so it won't float away in case it were to flood. I woke up at 4.30am, it doesn't get light until 5.45. I had to drive ten minutes to pick up my dad.
We were going to hunt a piece of property that is split by a creek, and that's great for fishing, if I might add. But we were both hunting a huge 180-inch buck that we had named Scar. My dad was using a single-shot 4570, and I was using a Winchester 742 Woodsmaster chambered in 308. It holds four shots and one in a chamber. We always carry more ammo, just in case. We were walking into our stands and whispering about Scar, the 180-inch buck.
When we walk into our stands, we don't use flashlights unless we absolutely have to. We came to the split in the trail that went to our stands. We both said good luck and walked off. We had been in the stand for about an hour, and it was just about shooting light. When I saw a deer walk out into one of my lanes, I had three lanes, one on each side and behind, but it wasn't quite light enough to tell which deer it was. I picked up my gun and looked at the deer in my lane.
But it didn't help much, so I sat my gun back down and kept looking at my lanes. Then I heard an extremely loud howl. Well, I guess that's how I would describe it. It sounded similar to a wolf, but it definitely wasn't a wolf, considering there are none in Mississippi. The deer in the lane just picked up its head and looked in the direction the howl came from. I texted my dad and asked him if he had seen anything. He said he hadn't seen a darn thing. I texted back.
I have one in my lane, and I heard a howl. He said all right, and then get off your phone. It had been 15 minutes since the howl, and it was three minutes from legal shooting light, so I picked up my gun again and put it on the deer. When I heard another howl that just about ruptured my eardrums. The deer in my lane ran across the lane, but it didn't go into the thick briars and oaks.
Then this huge black creature with a dog looking head and a very human-like body, I like, set forth feet and hands, came out onto the lane to my right. The one the deer was on. Its feet were more like paws than human feet, and it had long fingers and arms that went to its knees. It ran right up to the deer before it could even move. It snapped the deer's neck, and it ripped its guts out and started eating them. Then it stood straight up and looked right at me.
It stared into my soul. It felt like it was staring straight through me. I had a huge rush of adrenaline. I had my gun in my hand aimed in the general direction of it, but didn't have it on the creature until it started growling at me. I then moved my scope onto the creature, and I said to myself, "If it takes one step, I'm going to let the lead fly."
Of course, it started walking toward me growling and snapping its jaws, so I put the crosshairs on his chest, and yes, I do mean his chest, and I pulled the trigger. It was like everything went in slow motion. I could see the impact of my 308 hitting his chest. Then he ran towards me. I shot him in both of his kneecaps, which is three of my five bullets and my gun. He hit the ground and started wailing, and I might not be the best person on the planet. But I hate to see anything suffer.
So I put it right in between his bright red eyes and pulled the trigger. His head hit the dirt. I could see his brain scattered in the grass. My dad called me and said, "What the heck are you doing over there?" I said, "If you want to come over here and you want to see this darn thing, then you can do that, but I'm not saying it over the phone." He said, "Well, you scared every animal on this side of the county." And then he said he'd come over.
I knew it would take him about 15 minutes to get to my stand, so I aimed at the deer that he had killed. It was just a little spike. While I waited on my dad, I reloaded my gun with silver tips. I had those for hogs. When my dad got there, he thought I had killed the big buck, but when he turned and looked around my blind, he about fell. He said, "How the heck did you kill that thing?" I didn't respond. He then said, "We need to get rid of that thing."
So we went and got our four wheelers and we dragged it off. We tied the winch around its arm because it was just about the only thing left in tack. We drove to a bank on the side of the creek, and threw it in the creek. I then asked my dad what he thought it was. He said it was something from the pits of hell. I then said the only time that he'd heard about something like this was back in the 20s, but it was in Louisiana. And then he told me his father
had killed many on that property. I asked why hadn't he told me? And I then asked, "Should we tell the game wardens or the cops?" He said, "No. If you tell them about this, they will put you in a mental institution." We hooked on our four wheelers and drove to my truck. Neither of us set a word on the way back. When we got back to my dad's house, my stepmom had made breakfast. She said I was pale white. We ate the breakfast and went to his shed.
I asked him how many my grandfather had killed. He said he had killed five since he was alive. I asked him what he did with the bodies. He said burn them or throw them in the creek. This is the first time I have told anyone about this, and I'll understand if anybody thinks we're crazy. But since then I've seen one more when driving to work, three years later on the side of a highway. It chased me until I met another car, then it pealed off into the woods.
It has been at least ten years since that incident. Thank you. I know this was long, but I needed to tell someone. It has been very heavy bearing on me. I appreciate the platform to tell it on. It really does help to get it off my chest. You've been listening to the Buckeye Bigfoot podcast. Find more stories, hundreds more, over on our YouTube channel. Just look for Buckeye Bigfoot. You