Archive 168 Ghosts and Bigfoot

slides were the main attraction. It was quite the climb up, but the payoff was sure worth it. The giant slide was equivalent to the top thrilled dragster at Cedar Point. It was a thrill ride, especially with our modification. We would sneak the food trays up with us and Bob's led them down the slide at super high speeds. We were thrown out and chased out a couple of times after some trays were broken. The evil Knievel stunts were a blast, but there were nothing compared to what happened

one innocent summer morning. We walked from Southwick to the McDonald's for some breakfast. I had hot cakes and sausage with water. The boys ordered their meals and met me in the back to eat. We played Madden on the consoles and I enjoyed free refills or parade with their cups. The place was fairly busy, but we pretty much had free roama the entire back area, and that was our hangout spot. It came time to watch them play and I figured I would burn some time, and I started

wandering around looking for coins and dropped knickknacks. I was inspecting around under a table when a kid tapped me on the shoulder and said someone was looking for me. I figured it was one of my buddies. I was confused, but I climbed into the jungle gym and I began crawling to the top. I didn't know what to expect. Was one of my friends from school hanging out at the top and watching us play all along? Was it a girl that I knew? I moved slowly, checking every

corner as I sprawled through the cushion and wrote. There was a strange feeling in the tube and I could tell that something was up here with me. I arrived at the top and I didn't see anyone, and I retraced my steps and I felt something cold in the center of the facility. I creeped closer, slowly, expecting someone to jump out and scare me. And I heard some movement, and I turned to the corner to a new section of the playground that I never entered before. I must

have been oblivious to this bonus compartment all along. The air was crisp, and it felt like I was outside. I was in a new world, and I crawled on my hands and knees and it opened up into a larger chamber. I didn't know where I was, and I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. And then I was startled when I heard a voice. It was familiar, but I couldn't recognize the source. I turned around, and to my surprise was my childhood friend Max.

I hadn't seen him in a decade when his family moved away. He looked like he had an aged since the day he moved. I asked him what was up, what was going on? He just smiled and said that he had fun at my birthday party and that he missed playing soccer at recess together. I told him that I hope he was doing well and that I tried looking him up, and he breathed slow and softly said that he was in a better place, and I gasped

and I connected the dots. Max smiled and said they finally built the playground that we'd been calling for, the slights that touched the sky. He laughed in replied that we thought we had it good at Burger King. That playground on Boston was the birthday party he was referencing. I was excited to tell him about the tray trick that we were using to get up speed. He said he knew exactly what I was talking about, that he had been watching. I told him to meet me up

at the top and I'd be right back. And I crawled back down to reality and the light blinded my eyes, and I snuck quickly and grabbed a tray, and I scurried back up and was surprised when he was nowhere to be found. I searched for a few minutes, but I could feel that he was with me, and I set up a tray and took off full throttle. Max was with me the whole way. I could feel this grip on my shoulders and we twisted and turned and laughed.

When I reached the end of the tunnel, Max's blanket of energy was gone, but I was not sad we completed our mission. I knew he was waiting for that moment, and somewhere in my spirit I was too. Max was my best friend. But in the days before cell phones, when a friend moved away, you just wish you had a chance to say goodbye. I had had my last chance. What a great, heartwarming story. That's all I can say about that. I'm kind of awe struck and at how

sweet this story was. Thank you to the writer for sending it. I really really enjoyed it and appreciate them sending it to me and for everyone to hear. Thank you very much. I recently discovered your Dixie Crypti channel on YouTube, and I have enjoyed it immensely ever since. But I can't tell you how relieved I was when I found out that you actually let people tell about their squatch experiences. And boy, have I got a story for you since you live right down the road for me.

I'm sure you've heard the rumors about all the squatch sightings in South recently, Soaltillo is a little community just north of Tupelo here in North Mississippi, right up on forty five Highway. He didn't write that. I'm just telling you that several residents in the more rural areas of Saltillo have been giving the mayor pure hell about some large, shaggy hoboes that had been seen raiding their gardens at night and eating up all their corn and okra and tomatoes.

A Miss Bobby Gene Campbell was the last one to report, during a city hall town meeting two tuesdays ago, that she wanted more police to patrol her neighborhood at night so they could run off those dirty hobos to keep

stealing vegetables from her garden. Well. In typical political fashion, the mayor assured her that the police would be doing extra patrols in her area and that she had nothing to worry about, and then swiftly moved on to the matter of giving himself a raise at the taxpayer's expense and speaking no more about her problem. There's a saying that comes to mind about Bobby Jean's problem, misery loves company.

After doing a little digging of my own, I found out that multiple families are up in arms because something similar was happening at their homes. More and more husbands, wives and children were calling the local police and county sheriff about large, hairy teenagers trespassing on their property and

stealing the vegetables. Seeing as I had only just moved to South till Oh and started working in IT at a local bank, I just dismissed the ramblings of over excitable moonshiners that tried too much of their own product. But I can't tell you how wrong I was. Camp. I have four apple trees in my backyard, each a different variety, but all of them are sweet and crunchy. I was looking forward to enjoying the harvest this summer

and making all my favorite desserts. Every tree was heavy with apples, and I had made up my mind to start picking them that Friday night, about two weekends ago. I had just closed my eyes. Friday night. I was about to get some well deserved rest, because working for a bank in the IT department is not a walk in the park. And that's when I heard something shuffling

around my backyard that woke me up well. I leaned over the drapes and pulled them over a little so I could peek out the window, and that's when I saw them, Cam, I actually saw them. At first, I only saw two of them abusing the tree closest to the house, pulling on the base of the tree and

letting it snap back to its erect position. But then I started seeing more become visible as each of the remaining three started making their way into the light of my yard after crossing through the yards of my neighbors. Now I know for a fact that of my neighbors have dogs that loved to bark at the slightest noise or movement. But for some reason, they all took a vote and decided they would remain silent for the night while those squatches beat my apples trees like they owed

them money. Now, I'm not a cowardly man, Cam, but the idea of charging out there to confront those things in hand to hand combat made my stomach turn. Now I own a few guns, but nothing in a caliber that would do more than piss those things off. So I picked up the phone and called the Saltillo Police Department for help. The phone rang for a good five minutes before I gave up and called the Lee County

Sheriff's department. They actually answered the phone, and I told the nice woman that answered about what I was seeing, and I asked her to send help as soon as possible. She replied that I was the seventh call she received about this, and that the reason the police department hadn't answered my call it was because they were all out on patrol looking for the young men they thought were

doing these vegetable raids. I explained to her what I saw, and it didn't look like teenagers, but it was dark outside, so maybe it was a trick of the moonlight. She took down my dress in the neighborhood behind the big blue water tower that says Welcome to Saltillo, and begged her to send someone in a hurry, and she said someone would be there shortly and that I should remain inside my home and I followed her instructions and I

hung up the phone. About that time, I heard what sounded like a small war breaking out in my tiny neighborhood and immediately dropped to the floor to avoid getting hit by any stray gunfire. But just as fast as it started it was over. I pulled the curtain to the side again to get a peek at what was happening, and I saw two men in my backyard chopping off the heads of those young squatches and loudly boasting about

getting paid. I found the whole situation beyond strange, but I was happy to see that law enforcement finally got those things. It wasn't until the next morning, when I drove to the Saltillo Police Department to see if there was any paperworker sworn affidavits that I needed to sign that I found out from one of the officers that he had no idea what I was talking about, and that no one from the police department or Sheriff's office

had been deployed to my house the last night. I asked the officer, if it wasn't them or the Sheriff's men, then who were those men and where did the bodies go? I still haven't got an answer for that question. Camp yours truly a Steve Lilly fan. What a great email, What a great email. I could wait to share that with y'all. Kind of a surprise ending there, So I guess you can all guess who owed up in his backyard and killed those squatches and took their heads. Maybe

you know, maybe you don't. I'll put up an end screen for a hint. How about that. I'll put up an end screen at the end of this video, and you can take a guess who showed up in Saltillo in this man's backyard. My name is Bob, and this is something that I witnessed forty seven years ago near Dallas, Texas. I was living in Richardson and working at Texas Instruments

at the time. That day, when I got off work, I picked up my wife and my two kids, and I headed off to Allan, north of Plaino to visit relatives. As we were driving along, I looked up in the sky and I noticed a passenger plane that was coming in really low. I thought that was odd because we were nowhere near love feel. My wife wondered what I was looking at, and I pointed it out to her and I said, this thing doesn't have wings. She looked

it over and agreed. I slowed the car way down and was mainly just watching this object with my wife and daughter, who was about five at the time. I finally stopped the car completely and I got out to have a better look. My wife and daughter weren't very happy about that, but I needed to try and figure out what I was seeing. It came right up over us, one hundred feet off the ground and maybe two hundred feet out to the west of us. It had no wings at all and made almost no sound. It just

hovered there for a little while. It was probably only a few seconds, but it seemed longer. My wife and daughter were both yelling for me to get back in the car, and so I did, and they just wanted us to get out of there, but the car wouldn't start. I tried several times, and I knew I was going to have to check under the hood to see what was wrong. As I stepped back out of the car, the object turned two hundred and seventy degrees, lifted up,

and it moved off to the west toward Addison. In a matter of seconds, it was completely out of sight. It scared the heck out of us. I got back in the car, and this time it started right up with no problem. At this point, we really just wanted to go home, but our relatives were expecting us, so we went on. We saw another one before we got there. This one was round and flat. It was more like the classic Saucers shape. I stopped again, and even though my wife and daughter were crying for me to stay

in the car, I got out again. This time, though I left the car running. This one came up over us, just like the other one, but a lot closer. There were houses along the road that we were on, and people were out in their yards doing things, but no one seemed to see this thing. After a minute, it lifted up like the other one and left, going southwest. Just like the other one, it was gone in seconds.

I remember this one making a little more noise. It was an odd sound, like nothing I'd ever heard before. Forty six years later, I've never seen nor heard another one, and thank God for that. My wife and daughter wouldn't talk about them at all for a long time. Even now they don't like to. That night at home, we watched the ten o'clock news to see if anyone had reported anything. We didn't, but there were hundreds of sightings

reported all around the area. Chase planes were even sent out three times because they were picked up on the radar at love Field. Since that date, in November of nineteen seventy three, I have told a few people what we saw. Mostly they've reacted just like you might expect. I probably should have followed my wife's advice and never spoke of it again. But your program is a good thing.

I decided to send this because there are a lot of things people are not aware of in this world, and I believe all the governments are keeping them from us. Thank you for your work. I hope this message finds you well. I have a story I'd like to share. It's an old story from my childhood that new information was recently brought to light. This is the true account of that event. You may share my story, and you may use my name. My name is Jamie. She gives her last name, but I'm not going to put that

out there. In southeast Ohio, there is an abandoned girl scout camp deep in the forest, miles from nowhere, special with just cornfields and cows as far as the eye can see. Very few people know it's there, and even less know what happened to cause the permanent closure. Why Because I was there. I was a scrawny, little scrap of a girl in the summer of nineteen seventy eight. Now, don't get the mental picture of a sweet, innocent little

girl in pink ribbons, because that wasn't me. I was wild and dirty, with hair that hadn't been brushed in way too long, and I was covered in bruises and scrapes from head to toe. I spent all my time running the backwoods, and at this point I hadn't known fear of anything. It was time for another Girl Scout camping trip out to the falls, and this turned out to be the last camping trip there. It was a

bit like boot camp. Our dedicated leader, Patty, was committed to our education of the wiles and growing to be strong, independent young ladies. I was always grateful for this. When I got older and Patty insisted that we carry our own gear to the campsite our selves from the parking field. This was her rule from the very first camping trip, and I swear she did this to weed out any girly girls from ever coming back. Well it worked, and many girls did not return for any other camping trips.

It was only two miles, but as a forty five pound kid, it felt like forever. There was a hill in the trail that went straight up for half the journey, and I took this hill as my own personal challenge. I was going to make it without a break ahead of everyone else, even if it killed me. The other girls whine and complained and had to set down their packs for breaks. Several times. We were all supposed to stop and wait if one stopped, but I refused. I

just kept walking. I was determined to conquer the hill. As I reached the top, I saw a snake cross the trail, and I sat down my pack and I caught my breath, and I tiptoed up to the snake and I grabbed them behind the head, the way I had done one hundred times before, and I sat down on a huge rock to wait for the other girls. I could hear them still whining and trying to make their way up the hill. I stroked and admired the beautiful snake in my hands while tuning out the noise

of my friends. As they became visible, it struck me how funny it would be if I scared them all back down the hill using the snake. I smiled at the thought of them having to climb the dreaded hill twice. So that's exactly what I did. My best friend Tracy was the first of this bunch of girls to clear the top. I held the snake up to her, and she just rolled her eyes and said, you're gonna get bit.

The other girls did not disappoint and I ran up to them with the snake out stretched in my hands, and they took off like a shot back down the hill, screaming, copperhead, copperhead. I've never seen Patty so mad with her cheeks blazing red, and sure enough it was a copperhead snake. I didn't get bit, neither did any some one else, but I did get in trouble. Once we got back to camp and some of the color had left Patty's face, she handed down my punishment. First I had to clean the outhouses.

Then I had to dig the trenches around the tents. These tents didn't have floors in them, they were just canvas a framed tents. If we didn't dig the trenches, the tents would flood if it rained. We slept on the dirt and I started digging the first trench. I got about three feet in before I decided that I would rather go swimming at the falls instead. They were located a mile or so from where the campsite was. When I was sure nobody was looking, I snuck off

by myself. I knew exactly where the falls were. I'd been there many times before. I took off my shoes and socks and waded in, just past my knees. I was unsuccessfully trying to master the art of skipping stones, and that was when I heard a large splash behind me. I jerked around to see, but there was nothing there. I stayed quiet and still, and I listened. I really thought that I had got caught sneaking off and somebody

had found me. There was another splash right beside me, bigger than the last, and someone was throwing rocks at me. I remember that I was afraid. It was the first time I ever felt like that, and my head got that prickly feeling and I began to sweat. I was frozen in one spot. I knew something or someone was watching me, just out of sight. My eyes darted around, searching for movement. I saw nothing and I heard nothing.

Everything was completely silent, and once my legs caught up to my brain and would move, I ran out, almost forgetting my shoes and leaving my socks behind. I ran all the way back to the camp. I didn't bother to be sneaky coming back in my absence wasn't noticed. I couldn't say anything about what happened without getting myself in trouble, and the rest of the day passed without issue, Thank goodness. There was just that tense sense of being

watched that lingered. The girls were all packed in tents like sardines. There were five girls in my tent, and my best friend was sleeping in a different tent with her mom since she came as an extra chaperone. I wasn't welcome in that tent because well, Tracy's mom knew that I was a demon child and she was having none of it. Well, I was okay with it since there was no chaperone in my tent and I could

get up to born mischief. I told crazy ghost stories and tried to scare the other girls, thinking it was funny, and at some point we all fell asleep to the rumble of thunder in the distance. I was woken by something pressing on my throat and bumping my chin. I was disoriented as I reached up with my hands, but I couldn't touch my neck or face. I was frantically trying to figure out where I was and why I couldn't get through whatever was blocking my hands, and then

I realized that I was freezing and soaking wet. My mind caught up enough for me to understand that it was raining. No, it was storming like a hurricane. It was pitch black, and my head was stuck inside something, and my body was wet, but my head was dry. It took a few moments for me to comprehend what was going on. My fingers found purchase under the edge of the tent and I wiggled my way back inside where my head was. Somehow I was pulled out of the tent feet first, and my head was too big

to fit under the bottom. My chin was keeping my head inside the tent. The pressing I felt was at the bottom of the tent on my throat. The bumping on my chin I felt was the tent wall. As something was pulling me out. I crawled all over on my hands and knees, searching for my sleeping bag, and I woke up the girls asking for help, only to be completely ignored. I was shaking hard with my teeth chattering, and I began to cry. Patty, Patty, and I cried

until I got an answer. Finally she came with a flashlight. I told her what had happened, and she went looking for the sleeping bag. She made a large radius around the tent and it was nowhere to be seen. She asked me if I took it someplace. I haven't been anywhere. I said, my hair is dry. See Patty didn't know what to do other than to put me in a sleeping bag with another girl. I was still soaking wet, and that girl was angry with having to share her sleeping bag with me. The next day, we got up

and Patty was gone. Tracy's mom was visibly upset as she sat smoking. After an hour or so, Patty returned, dragging my sleeping bag in shreds. Pack it up, girls, It's time to go home, is all Patty would say. When ask what happened. Our parents were told that we came home early due to the storm the night before. We never went camping again at this campground to this day, Tracy is still my best friend. Two weeks ago, her

mom was visiting my farm. She mentioned that she isn't comfortable in the woods, and I said, yeah, I remember, you were very much of a camper. She clarified, not since that camping trip with you girls during scouts. You know the trip I mean, she said, well, this took me off guard. I was surprised she remembered that trip, and I was confused as to why it affected her so strongly. I asked her what she remembered. She told me that when they got up in the morning, Patty

went to look for my sleeping bag. She found tracks in the mud. There were huge tracks. Patty had followed the tracks up the mountain three miles and that's where she found my sleeping bag and it was ripped to shreds. That is why they closed the camp. None of the parents were ever told. I'm guessing the owner of the footprints thought I was sleeping in the sleeping bag. With the extra weight from the rain, the bag would have

felt occupied. The rain saved me in that aspect, and I believe some kind of creature had been watching me from the time we arrived at the camp. It had followed me to the falls and it threw rocks at me. I think it waited for everyone to fall asleep, and it tried to pull me out by the sleeping bag. I imagine it was upset to find my sleeping bag empty. Once it got up the mountain. I didn't let this experience affect my love of the woods, but of course

I just recently found out about the footprints. I will be much more cautious with my grandkids in the wilderness. M