Archive 100 Bigfoot and Interviews

I have been married for thirty five years. That's cool, man. That's an awesome that I could end right there and just be happy for you. Todd, that's awesome. But let's get on with your story. The campground consisted of thirty to fifty permanent camsites for trailers in RV I think, and there was also an area to the west end for overnight tent campers. On the south side of the lake was some woods that wrapped around to the east

and the west. There were forty yards of open area to the north side of the lake that reached down to a little beach area, with the rest of the north shore set aside for fishing access. We were there with my best friend, John, who was nineteen, and his girlfriend, Judy, who was twenty one, and as such was the designated purchaser of alcohol for our group. They've been married now for thirty six years. Oh man, that's another great. That's awesome.

John and Judy thirty six years. That's great. Judy's dad and older brother had adjacent permanent camp sites at the campground, and since they were going to the races that weekend, the trailers were available. Because Becky and I were the only other couple in our little group of about a dozen friends, we were invited to join John and Judy for romantic weekend getaway. Judy worked at Stump's grocery store at the Forest Park Plaza, so we picked her up

there on Friday night when she finished her shift. While we were there, we purchased the supplies that we would need for the weekend, and then we headed out. We arrived a couple of hours before sundown and set up camp. The campground was packed with activity. Kids were riding their bites on the gravel road that snaked its way through the park, people were walking their dogs, and men were

riding around in their golf carts visiting neighbors. Several people stopped by to check up on Judy and ask about her dad and her brother. Off to the races was the standard reply. Soon we grilled our dinner and the girls had gotten the trailers ready for the night. After that, we all sat around the campfire, ring, swapping stories, enjoying each other's company, and relaxing to the sounds of the southern Ohio summer night. The bugs, the frogs, and the

nighttime birds created a wondrous symphony of calming sound. A couple of hours after dark, we all decided it was time to turn in for the night. Before we went to bed, we had to tidy up our campsite, and John and I were churning the fire with a shovel. Went out of nowhere, and I mean like out of left field. We heard from way off in the distance what sounded like a woman's screaming, bloody murder. It was like her arms were being ripped from her body. John looked at me as if to say, man, what are

we hearing. The girls came over with us with puzzled expressions on their faces. Twenty seconds into the scream. It changed to what sounded like a baby crying. That lasted for another twenty seconds, and then there was nothing. We could hear the normal night sounds all around us, but the screaming stopped. The other campers burst out into chatter, What was that? What the hell that? And a bounty of other anxious comments could be heard from every direction.

We were certainly adding our share. The entire campground was a buzz with excitement and activity for another ten or fifteen minutes before everyone began to calm down and turn in for the night. We decided whatever it was, it was far enough away that it wasn't going to bother us. John and Judy took her parents' trailer, and Becky and I were in Judy's brother's trailer. Once inside, Becky and I were winding down, smoking a cigarette and having a

pretty lively discussion about what had just happened. What exactly did you hear? She asked, and then before I could answer, she added, I heard a woman screaming in distressed. Then it changed into like a baby crying. Yeah, that's exactly what I heard. I said, Well, what do you think it was? I think it was a bobcat, she said, again, not letting me answer. You know they're still in Ohio. Well,

I quickly answered, well, I don't know about that. Their mountain lines down in the Smokies, and with the warm weather, maybe one of them made its way up here into Ohio. We both pondered that for a moment before she asked, how did it cross the Ohio River? Then he crossed over the Brent Spence Bridge like everyone else. I quipped, Oh, you're funny. I suppose he did it during rush hour too, she exclaimed, as she threw her shirt at me. Well he did sound like one peste off cat, I laughed.

We began to ponder again, and she climbed into bed. A stream of ideas came to me, and I said, you know, maybe some local has an exotic cat as a pet. Or we aren't too far from Cincinnati. Maybe some rich guy or Reds player, even better, a Bengals player bought themselves a big cat and it escaped. Her reply was wouldn't we have heard about that on the news? Well,

not necessarily, I answered. If they didn't have the right perm to own an exotic pet and it escape, they wouldn't want to get into trouble, so they ain't gonna call anybody. Remember, Shannon, her family had to move to Michigan because Ohio passed that law where you have to have a permit to own exotic pets. Her family had those two cheetahs, but they didn't get the permits. Oh yeah, you're right, she said. Now get your butt in bed, now see there. Don't you feel better about it? And

all I answered, returning a grin. Yes, come to bed already, she groaned. I had no sooner turned off the light when I heard the faint sound of a baby crying. I turned to Becky in and saw her eyes getting bigger and knew she was hearing it too. Before either of us could speak a word, the sound changed to the woman's screaming bloody murder. Again a cat. Remember it's just a cat, I spoke up quickly. It's a very

big cat, she added from inside the trailer. The sound was faint, but we could still hear as it changed into something like a jungle cat's growl, and then it became more like a lion's roar, and then it changed yet again to what we have come to refer to as a mix of an angry King Kong versus Godzilla with eyes as big as saucers, and our jaws dropped to our chests. We stared at each other for what felt like an hour, but it was in reality only a few seconds. What the hell was that? Becky whispered.

Before I could answer, the damn thing started up again. This time it started with the King Kong versus Godzilla roar, followed by a bear's roar. I burst out of our trailer to find John poking his head out of his The growl had already changed to that of a lion and now morphing into that of a jungle cat's growl. When it changed back into the screaming woman, John muttered, what is that? The sound faded back into that of a baby crying, and John came out to stand beside me.

The campground was beginning to come to life again. Someone yelled, can someone shut that thing up? Someone else said, what is that? Further down still, another camper asked, did you hear that? Standing outside? It sounded louder and closer than when we heard it earlier that night, though it still seemed to be coming from the same general direction, which was southwest of the campgrounds. We stood there for several seconds, lost in thought as we anticipated the next sound. How

far away do you think it is? John asked, startling me back to reality. And do you have any ideas Sherlock? He added, before I could answer. Well, sarcastically calling me Sherlock was a running gag between us, brought on by my frequent use of the phrase elementary, my dear Watson elementary. But this time he sounded nervous. Back in. I thought it might be a big cat, like a bobcat, or a mountain lion, told him a mountain lion in Ohio.

I was sure he was going to add or you nuts, but I cut him off by adding, or it could be someone who owns a big cat, Remember Shannon. He looked puzzled for a moment before remembering and saying, oh, yeah, the girl with the cool looking jungle cats. They were cheetahs, I corrected him. Have you ever heard anything like that before? Those parts that sound like a bear, I mean the big gorilla or something, he asked. I noted a bit of quiver in his voice. It was a regular king Kong,

I said. Unwilling to give a direct answer, we snapped our heads back to the southwest as the baby crying sound started up again. The depth and duration of the calls was unbelievable. It wasn't like it was one sound, take a breath, and then another. It was one continuous, deep call, lasting anywhere from fifty seconds to two minutes, transforming from baby to woman to animal and one breath. The long capacity of whatever was out there had to

be massive, and the range was incomprehensible. John and I stood there looking at each other mentally repeating the same question. Everyone was asking what was this thing? It still sounded like it was pretty far off in the distance. I was guessing around five to ten miles away. Alarming, yes, but I didn't feel like we were in any danger. That's why John's next statement caught me off guard. Man, we have shotguns in the trailers and spotlights if we need them. Let me show you where yours are in

the trailer. We went inside and he showed me where the shotgun and box of shells were, and then he pulled out a spotlight and we made sure the battery was working. It was one of those old nineteen sixties handheld lights made with the VW Beetle headlight attached to a metal battery box that had a handle on it. I don't remember the gauge of the shotgun, but I do remember that it held five shells and it was a pump action. John, Becky and I then went outside

and stood for twenty minutes. It had been half an hour or more since we last heard its call when John broke the silence with well, I'll see you guys in the morning. Goodnight. Hey, I'm only a year younger than you, old man, I replied. John turned and went back to his trailer with a smile on his face. When we went back inside, Becky peppered me with questions about what John and I thought it was. I'm not sure how long we stayed up, but I can say one thing for sure, the night no longer had any

romantic feeling. I don't know how long it was until we heard it again, but I would venture to guess it was around an hour later when King Kong started up again. By the time it had worked its way to the Jungle Cat, I was out the door with my shoes on, a shotgun in one hand and the spotlight in the other. It was no longer just a faint sound inside the trailer. Outside it was even louder, and now it sounded like it was just across the lake.

John was out his door almost as fast as I was, and he was wearing his shoes and carrying his gun and his light as well. The whole campground seemed to be awake, and people were coming out of their trailers in r OF's and gathering in small groups. John and I walked down to the road as the call wound down to the baby crying. That sounds just like it's across the lake, John said, confirming my earlier thought. We were standing at the edge of the road closest to

the lake, where there was mostly open field. The woods across the lake were silent as a grave. Gone was the music of the night dwellers. The insects, the frogs, in any other wildlife all seemed to be holding their collective breath. We could hear the people from the campground behind us talking and opening and closing doors, and after a few minutes, a couple in their thirties and a

man in his fifties joined us where we stood. We formed a little group and made our introductions, and then quickly turned our conversation to the same questions we'd all been asking for hours. Another man walked past us and called to us, it's a banshee. Man, I tell you, it's a banshee. We all chuckled nervously but swallowed our laughter. When all hell broke loose across the lake. The baby crying started again, followed by the cracking of wood. It

sounded like a bulldozer was tearing through that timber. In my lifetime I have heard and seeing deer, elk, moose, and bears crashed through the forest. Nothing, and I mean nothing, even come close to the cracking of wood that we heard that night. John and I spun around and flipped on our life. As the call changed from the baby crying to the woman screaming. We could clearly see the trees and bushes shaking, but we couldn't see what it was making the commotion. It was coming from the southwest

and heading east. By the time the call had made its usual gamut of jungle cat to lion to bear to King Kong versus Godzilla, it had made it halfway to the bottom stretch of the lake. The guy who walked by with the bansheeth theory ran past us at a dead sprint back to its trailer. Oh God, that's funny. Okay, I'm not laughing or ridiculing anyone. Just want to be clear there. I just thought that sentence was funny. I

do have a sense of humor. We could still see the trees and bushes swaying back and forth as the thing made its way to the east side of the lake. The woman in our little group said to no one in particular, my god, what is that thing? And then as an afterthought, she added, and what are we going to do about it? It wasn't screaming anymore, but we

could still see it crashing through the woods. It was halfway to the road that dead ended in the woods on the east side of the lake, but there it could easily run up the east side road about one hundred yards or so, right into the campground. We were all sizing up the situation and formulating possible outcomes. Not more than a year before that night, I had watched the movie Rambo. Furthermore, I was a big fan of

Billy Jack movies from the nineteen seventies. As if that wasn't enough, I saw myself as a hoodlum from the main streets of Dayton, Ohio. So it should come as no surprise that I was thinking John and I should head over to the east side road, cut this thing off at the past, and teach it a lesson by feeling it full of lead. I was just about to make that very suggestion when John said, I don't know about you, guys, but we're getting the hell out of

here now. The rest of us were so startled by John's words that we just stood there dumbfounded as he walked away. A second later, we sprung into action, each of us heading back to our respective trailers. I didn't catch up with John until we were almost to the trailers, and the girls were dressed and standing outside, and they were waiting for us. Get the stuff, pat girls, he barked, We're out of here. They were way ahead of us.

All we had to do was put away the guns, lock up the trailers, and jump in the car and go. It must have taken us a good twenty minutes to get out of the campground because of the traffic, it looked more than half of the campers were heading home. We kept a watchful eye on the East Road as we sat in the long line of cars but nothing ever came out of the woods. Once we'd answered all

the girls questions, the ride home was pretty quiet. We never heard anything about it on the news, and after a week or so, the frenzied questions and the retelling of the story to our group of friends died down. Over the years, beck and I have shared this story with various new friends that we've met. A couple of weeks ago, I shared a Dixie Cryptid video with Becky and she suggested that i'd send the story. So here

it is, and we're sticking to it. There were a lot of people in that campground that night, and a lot of them left. Not to mention all the people who lived in a twenty square mile radius of the campground. We would love to hear from anyone who experienced those strange calls in the summer of nineteen eighty three. And one other thing. I often wonder what would happen that night if I had spoken up first with my Billy Jack plan. I guess we'll never know, Thank goodness, Oh man,

what a great story. Nobody was heard. Everybody was just scared, and you heard a really unique sound. I mean, it sounded like it went on all Night Todd, But I don't know what else to say about this story. He's this man obviously has a sense of humor, unlike some of the really curmudgeon bigfoot people in the bigfoot community. But this guy has a sense of humor and he can laugh. He can actually laugh at himself. And I love these kind of stories. I really appreciating I really

appreciate him sending it folks. I have Will Jevining and his sidekick Tom on the line, and we're going to ask them some questions and just dive right into Instead of this being one long interview, we're going to take specific topics and give them five to ten minutes to discuss it, and we're gonna chop those up and put those in podcasts with stories throughout the month. And I'm really excited about this because sometimes these interviews go so long that people tend to drop off after thirty or

forty five minutes. So what I want to do is try to mix up a little bit of authentic stuff and then put some of my bullcrap at the end. That's what so to kind of give my podcast just a little bit more of a serious tone and so that you can hear from people who actually study these things, which I don't. Will and Tom, thank you for joining us.

this is a bit for them. This is for people to learn a little bit about what people have learned and studied really throughout their whole lives and they're actually consumed with the study of this creature. And I want you to hear what some people have found. So let's get started. I put out a community post today I ask people for questions. I was trying to get five, and we have I think we have one hundred and fifty responses. So thank you to the audience for doing that.

That's very nice of you. One question that pops up over and over, and I was reluctant to ask Will and Tom this question is that this Nephelm theory are the Bigfoot the Nephilum from the Old Testament. And I was a little apprehensive to ask that because I think I know just the hot points of Will's opinions on some of these things based on experience in his study. But he's more than willing to talk about this and

I appreciate it. So Will and Tom, you guys, let us know what you think about the Nephilum theory.

published in nineteen sixty one. Even a book that old, it has some great information in it. And in the chapter seventeen, actually page three seventy nine, there's a couple of paragraphs that address this specifically. So you know, pardon me if I butcher this a little bit, and some of the pronunciations, I'm not even gonna try. Maybe I'll spell the name, but it says in here Nephelim is

often translated giants. But the commentators, and this was written by a Jewish scholar by the way, who was a friend of Sanderson's and let him put it in a book, the commentators tell us that they were so called because men would fall, and the word nephelim, the first part of that is nofel n oph e l, and that means they would fall in their faces with fright at the sight of them. So it wasn't actually giant, it was it was the appearance and the actual behavior that

they would do. So then it goes into some other abbreviations. I'm not sure what they are. But then they talk about the Gibbraum GiB or m were later on referred to as the Gibbori and I'm not even going to try to pronounce this a y i D and are reputed to have been as tall as a tree in contrast to the shambling Nephlom. So we have two different types of beings here. The second one, the jiroal t s A y i D means the mighty ones of

the hunt, so they were not the nephylum. Our main concern here must be, however, the rest of the creatures who terrified the Israelites during the exodus, during Egypt and their period of wandering in the Sinai desert. These were the shidiam S h e I d i M or the destroyers who had been known to the patriarchs Abraham Isaaca Jacob Jacob as the serum or the hairy ones.

So we're talking about two completely different things. And there's in other passages they talk about, you know, the nephylum, and they had actually specific measurements of beds, I mean beds like men slept in things like that, and the other creatures are something entirely different. So when people refer to the Sasquatch as the four or the descendants of the Nephilum, they're not. If you look at the context of these ancient writings, it.

was like, I don't even understand what this is. So, but that's a that's a great explanation, and I so you tend to line up with his way of thinking on that, I would assume.

only have three toes. What is that about? Why why are there so many different foot formations.

So like with humans, no two are identical, you know what I mean. So, and a good example is that if you've ever tried to wear somebody else's shoes, how uncomfortable they feel because their feet are slightly different shaped and wear differently. Then there are some subcategories of creatures.

And what I was told by sirs, they can't reveal that there were there were two main groupings, and for the sake of conversation, we'll call him group A and group b uh, And then there were two subgroupings in each one of those. So you're going to get some variations. And it makes sense if you've got a breeding population over a large region, let's say the United States in Canada, there are geographical barriers to keep, you know, one one

regional group from interbreeding with another one. So over time and evolution, there's some different changes that occur. So, and you see with other animal species.

the teeth have no canines there. They're blocky similar ours, but there's some size differences and some other configurations that are different between those two groupings. Then the other side of the house, the let's say the A this is the A grouping and the B grouping, which predominantly in the South, and the Type two. They have very prominent canines. They look a lot like the ones you see in the Patterson film, but they're more often or as often

as they are bipedally. They're moving in all fours and they're more you'll see more in groupings. And then there's the other one that has actually kind of a baboon face, almost a snout, and that one resides primarily along the Mississippi River drainage basin that's a type three.