Archive 201 Bigfoot & Paranormal

and we turned and started running for our lives. Behind us, we could hear the monster crashing through the woods on what sounded like two feet We were a group of twelve year old boys, scared out of our minds by visions of that creature catching up with us and then tearing us to pieces. We were moving as fast as we could, but it was gaining on us. It was fifteen yards behind us when one of my friends lost his footing and fell, and he sliced his leg open

in the process. I had to do something. There was no time to think or make a plan, so instinctively I turned and fired my shotgun straight into it. That was enough to knock it backwards, and then it turned and ran away, and we managed to get my friend on his feet and back to the house. We didn't talk much about what happened, we were too shaken up. It was the last time that any of my friends

would ever come to my house. It took a couple of days, but my love of hunting overshadowed my fear of monsters, and I went back out into the woods again. When I got to the spot where I had shot that animal, I found a blood trail, so I decided to follow it. The thing had made it two hundred yards and then it had died. It was lying their face up on the ground, all seven feet of it. I guess it weighed around five hundred pounds. It was clearly a male, and it had a face that looked

more human than gorilla. I tried to turn it over, but it was way too heavy, so I decided to go back and get a camera so I could get some pictures of it. But by the time I got there, I thought it would be better if I didn't go back alone, so I had to talk my brother into going with me. That took two days, and by the time we got back, that creature was gone. We spent that winter tracking and trying to find more of them. We thought there might have been a family of them

living in the area. We tracked them for nine miles, but we never got close enough to gather any real evidence. Personally, I think they ate the body of the dead one. I think they always eat their dead, and that's why we never find any bigfoot remains lying around. Growing up in the nineteen seventies in the small town of Monroe, Louisiana, you heard all kinds of stories about the history of

the town in that region of northeast Louisiana. For sleepy little town nestled in the curves of the Wahtaw River, bayous and swamps, you would never guess that it had been a place of habitation for several cultures going back nearly six thousand years. My grandfather and his uncles would tell stories of things they encountered on hunting trips or working around the family farm, or that other relatives had

experienced in the bayou and swamp country around Monroe. As a kid, I enjoyed all their stories, even if I didn't quite believe them, or I thought there might have been a bit of leg pulling going on. Some of the stories told to me growing up were from the Spanish and later American settlers, and also from the earlier Native American people. There were stories of giant, hairy manlike creatures that lived in the deepest parts of the swamps who did not tolerate trespassers, and they were beings who

could change their shapes to look like other animals. Other stories were about people who would disappear out in those swamps with never a trace to be found. Of course, there were plenty of ghost stories around the Old Garden district, and Monroe had more than its share of haunted houses. I experienced a few things in some of those two hundred year old homes that I can't explain, but those

stories are for another time. In late nineteen seventy five, I had my own close encounter with a big foot out along the Wachitaw River among those ancient Spanish moss draped trees and waterways. My mom and I had gone on one of the periodic camping trips that our Baptist Church put together for our congregation in the late summer of nineteen seventy five. This particular camping trip was to

Moon Lake, just north of Monroe. This area is adjacent to the Black Vayou National Wildlife Refuge, and that area has a long history of strange things happening and sightings of strange creatures. Our church used to camp at the lake for family weekend getaways and for some retreats. It was an old camp but was well maintained, so the main camp was clear and level, but surrounded by old trees and bushes. Y'all, I'm sorry if my chickens are being loud. I've got my door open and they're out

there raising sand I don't know. I guess they're enjoying this warm weather. But let's carry on with the story. On this weekend, families had starting arriving late Friday afternoon, with the rest coming in early Saturday morning to set up their tents and personal camp sites within the larger camping area. As each family arrived, more of the kids I knew would be running around and playing tiger chase

or hide and seek. As Saturday progressed, we moved to exploring the area outside of the campgrounds, which included skipping rocks across the slow moving river looking for arrowheads. We didn't find anything, but we had a grand time poking around in the soft soil, and we made a full day of it. At dusk, everyone was called in for dinner and visiting. While we were eating, we noticed the dogs some families had brought for the weekend. Were tracking

around the campgrounds and occasionally whining. Since we were among the trees more to the north and west, the setting sun made long and broken shadows between the trunks and hanging moss, which made it difficult to see what the dogs were reacting to. It did not make much impression at the time, and as soon as we finished eating, we ran back into the woods for an evening of

hide and seek. As it got darker. After about an hour, we went back and picked up some flashlights to continue our game, knowing our parents would eventually call us in for the night. And as we gathered back together and were talking at the edge of the clearing, a small stick was thrown into our group from the area just outside the lantern light. We thought it was one of the other kids, so we started trying to find them, and we didn't see anyone, but every couple of minutes

another stick would be thrown from the trees. Eventually, we started concentrating our flashlights in one beam and swinging them back and forth, and we tried throwing sticks and small rocks back into the trees to see if we could flush whoever it was out, but we had no success. After about ten minutes, we didn't see anything, and another stick came flying out of the trees, but this time it came from higher up, so we swung the flashlight

beams up about ten feet. At first we didn't see anything but a curtain of Spanish moss hanging from a branch close to the tree trunk, and then a face pushed out of the moss. Our first thought was one of the kids had climbed up the trunk, but as we looked more close lee the face was not entirely human. After a stunned few seconds, a body that was fully ten to eleven feet tall and covered in shaggy brown hair stepped out from the tree trunk and moss less

than twenty feet away. We started yelling and running back to the camp, while whatever this was disappeared at a loping run back to the north. The adults had come running at our yelling, and after a hurried description, they

took off in pursuit. They caught a few glimpses as the bigfoot ran through the undergrowth and then dove into the river to make its escape, and when the adults came back to camp, every family packed up and left that night without another word being said about the events of that night, and for several years after that event, you would hear stories of strange happenings around Moon Lake area. When I was pregnant with my second child, my husband

and I decided to buy a house. The lease came up on our apartment before our new house was ready, so rather than sign another lease, we decided to stay with my husband's family until it was done. It was December in Indiana and it was extremely cold. That cold slipped into the basement of my in law's house at night and made it very uncomfortable. One night, I decided to turn on the oven in the little kitchen down

there to warm the place up. It didn't take long to get it cozy, and pretty soon I was sound asleep. Sometime in the night, I woke up to use the bathroom. When I passed by the stairs leading up to the main house, I looked up to see a little girl sitting on the top step. Well, I thought that was my sister in law, Carmen. She was about five at that time, and she was cute as a bug. Carmen had long brown hair and she was really soft spoken.

She was just sitting there, long light colored gown, looking forlorn. I couldn't imagine how she'd come down to the basement in the dark, so I told her to go back to bed because her mother was going to be angry with her. She looked at me and said, Mommy, please turn off the oven or we will die. Well. I was confused by her statement, so I guess I didn't answer right away. She repeated herself, Mommy, please turn off

the oven, or we're gonna die. She was so soft spoken and so gentle and very quiet, and she was unbelievably cute sitting there, but she was really beginning to freak me out. However, she was right, I needed to turn off the oven. I thought it was time to take her back to bed then, but when I went back to the stairs, she was gone. And to be honest, I wasn't sure what had just happened. The next morning, I asked my mother in law why Carmen would have

come downstairs in the middle of the night like that. Well, she gave me an odd look, and she assured me that Carmen had never left her bed. When I asked Carmen about it, she repeated what her mother said, and then my mother in law told me that Carmen was afraid of the dark and she would never come downstairs at night. It was a month later and I gave birth to a little girl who looks a lot like

her aunt Carmen. My mother in law is fond of reminding me of my nocturnal visitor, so I have to ask, did my little girl visit me while she was still in the womb to save all of our lives? In the late nineteen eighties, I was a single mother living on three acres of wooded land in western Georgia with my kids. It was a long four day weekend. I think it was the fourth July, and my kids would be spending it with their dad. I was off work till Monday, so I loaded up on library books and

treats and I had at home. I kissed the kids goodbye and curled up on the sofa to write mind Gotta Get done Less, and then I fell asleep. I guess I was exhausted, but it was nine o'clock when I woke up. Well, I was starving, so I decided to fix myself some supper before heading out to close up the chickens for the night and check on the dog's food and water. It wasn't long before I was curled up in my antique bed with my books and snacks and having a high old time. Around midnight, I

got up and made myself a cup of tea. Then I went around and turned off all the lights and headed back to bed. I had laid there an hour and I heard my dog under the house give a little growl, followed by a sort of a whimpering wine and I paused and I listened for a minute, but I didn't hear anything else, so I went back to reading. Forty five minutes later, I was beginning to drift off to sleep when a loud bang echoed through my bed

bed and shook that into the trailer. I jumped up and looked out the front window toward the driveway, but I didn't see anything. And then I looked out the east side, toward the little wedge of trees that separated my property from my neighbors. There was nothing there either, and I grabbed a flashlight and my shotgun and I headed outside to see what the heck had happened. I wasn't seeing anything, but I did hear a shuffling in

that little stand of trees to the east. I looked hard in that direction, but there just wasn't anything there that I could see. I figured it was the Jones Boys, a couple of neighborhood kids who liked scaring women and girls. So I swung my shotgun in that direction and I yelled, I ain't scared of y'all. You better get home before you have some serious trouble coming down on your backsides. And then I stomped back inside to wait out the adrenaline rush so I could get some sleep. The next morning,

I went outside to have a look around. In the light of day. There were no footprints or scuff marks in thy hard packed Georgia clay, and I couldn't find anything beyond some kicked up pine straw in the woods. So I turned to head back inside, and that is when I saw it. Being on a slight rise, the woods gave me a bit of an elevated view of the back corner of my trailer. At the topmost edge of the metal overhang was a huge dent, and it looked like someone had thrown a bowling ball up there.

I got a lighter and climbed up to get a closer look. The dent was rounded on one side, with a bit of a wedge on the right. I tried hitting it with my fist. That wasn't a good idea, and then I got a stick and tried hitting it, but still nothing. The metal was hard and apparently had a wooden frame under it well. I spoke with mister Jones about his son terrorizing me and damaging my trailer, and he said that they were both gone that weekend. One was locked up in juvenile attention and the other

had gone to boot camp. My driveway was a deer trail from the woods to the swamp area that was on our side of a major county highway. Several hunters came and asked permission to hunt my land because of that. Always said no, but thanks for asking. There was plenty of food and water there for deer, and they had open access to run the swamp and wild lands on my side of our road, with safe passage to pastures on the south side. I didn't want to ruin that

for them. It wasn't until recently that it occurred to me that the dog wasn't growling at deer running past my bedroom window and down the driveway. It was always at the same time of night. It might be different weather conditions or moon faces or nights of the week, but it was always the same time. I never heard deer running by or on deer tracks, even in the mud. I noticed that I wasn't getting as many eggs from my hens as I should during certain times of the year,

and produce would sometimes go missing from the garden. Then some of my chickens started going missing, and it finally got to the point that I figured I'd be money ahead if I got rid of the chickens and quit planting a garden. Before I went that far, I talked to the farmer down the road about my egg problem. His response was to give me a strange look and ask if I was missing produce from my garden too. When I said that I was, he scratched his head

and he said, well, isn't that peculiar. In nineteen eighty nine, my son came in one day with a deer skull. He found it sitting on the corner of our porch. It was an almost perfectly clean six point buck skull. At the time, we thought our dog had gone out and found a dead deer scavenge. But I ask you, would a dog clean a skull and knot you the bone to bits or the antlers? And why leave it on the corner of the porch. A dog would have left it in the middle of the yard or in

front of the door. Now I'm thinking I had some wood boogers visiting my place, and that's why in the South, when it gets dark out and the kids aren't inside, grandparents will yell out the door. You better get in here before those boogers get you. They weren't making idle threats to scart kids. The boogers will come out of the woods, and sometimes their visits aren't quite so peaceful.

I've never told anyone about any of this until about a month ago, and I finally told my husband about those long ago experiences, and thanks to you and everyone who has shared their stories, he believes me. He even encouraged me to share it with you through your channel and to share some of my other experiences on my chain. And like I said, this woman has her own YouTube channel, and I've watched a couple of videos. I watched a

video of them burning a house. It was an old house on their property, and instead of demolishing it, they burn it to give the volunteer fire department some practice, I guess on fighting a fire. But the next video was the house was burned to the ground, so they didn't put the fire out. So I'd have to watch the videos closer to know what was going on there. But she has a nice little channel and it will be linked in the description, and I appreciate her sending

this story. This is all evidence that some people call it anecdotal. It does make you wonder what's going on with some of these things. Big dents in the side of your house and deer skulls on your porch, and neighbors and you having produce and eggs and hens going missing. So that's you know, that's some evidence that could be to do with Bigfoot. Who knows, But ma'am, thank you for the for the story, and I really appreciate it. Mm hmm