Archive 69 Bigfoot

we headed out. We'd worked our way down to the famous bass fishing lake through the woods for about a mile when I got a whiff of something that could have knocked a buzzard off a poop wack. I love the way you guys write. I can't even describe it. It was just bad. I started looking around for it, thinking what I smelled with something dead. I thought coyotes might be a concern, but I had my pump action Mossberg loaded with buckshot and slugs, so I wasn't too worried.

About that time. River disappeared somewhere and I started seeing water through the trees, so I knew I must be getting close to the lake. As I got closer to the water and rounded a little thicket, I immediately saw something standing to the left of me. I knew this is what I must have been smelling. Admittedly, I wasn't wearing my glasses, so I couldn't see every minor detail, but I knew what this thing was. I noticed his lips for some reason, he wasn't quite showing his teeth,

but he wasn't not showing them either. It was more like a relaxing moment, kind of like after you brush your teeth. But what surprised me the most was when he saw my shotgun. It had been tucked behind my leg in such a way that it was hidden from the creature at first, but in my shock, I took a step back, dropping it into plain sight. He took one look at it and zeroed in on it with real fear and recognition on his face. He knew what this thing was, and I believe he knew that it

could hurt him. His eyes darted back and forth between me and the shotgun, so I knew I had to do something. I raised my free hand in a show of peace to sort of say, hey, I'm not here. To hurt you. That must have satisfied him, because he turned and walked off. It was actually more like a glide than a walk. I exhaled and realized I'd been holding my breath. I admit I was shocked to my core. I know that they're there now. I went back out there with my friend during the rainy season and we

found two sets of tracks. The writer of this account states the following event is recorded in a book. Photos were taken by a California Highway Patrol officer and these photos are reproduced in this book. As of today, I have not confirmed this. However, he claims several of the individuals present during this UFO event have read the book and seen the photographs. I have the title of the book, but the dates given do not correspond with the date

of the following event. I do not doubt the writer's word. On the contrary, I believe the date of the publication in his email is a typo. We will hear more from this writer in the future, and if I can get this information straight, I will reveal the title of the book that he wrote of and the date of its publication. Fountain Valley, California, during the fall of nineteen seventy three, one of those seventy degree t shirt nights

in Crazy Fornia. At nine o'clock PM, we stopped working on our dragster and we decided to run down to the local coffee shop. As we walked towards our cars, I looked towards Miles Square Park, two blocks from my house. Three lights were hovering about three thousand feet or less above the park. The light formed a triangle shape in the sky. A helicopter practiced landing pad was located in the park. An unfortunate helicopter crash had occurred there some

weeks before. As unusual as this may sound, three choppers collided at once and fell to the ground, killing several airmen. Crews were at work removing the wreckage at this time. One fuselage remained on the ground for the next day's work. Three lights were slowly descending over the park. My friends and I stood in astonishment watching the lights descend over

the park. I asked my friends if they wanted to get a better look, and I was surprised to hear them respond with a hell no. The lights continued their descent, pulsing and constantly changing colors. It was too much for me, so I smugly called my buddies a bunch of chickens, and I raced for the park in my chevel. I reached the closed gate to the landing pad with my head lights off. The lights were now five hundred feet

or less off the ground. Marines had been guarding the pad since the crash, but they were distracted by the lights now falling on top of them. Signs were posted along the fence to keep out. I had to see this up close, and I sprung from the car, hopped a fence, ran the last hundred yards through a shallow ditch, and I crouched next to the landing pad. I knew I would be seen at some point and probably go to jail, but the impulse to get close was worth it for me. A young marine stood just a few

feet away on the tarmac. He was transfixed by the crafts hovering above. I could now clearly see the UFOs, only one hundred feet above the last helicopter wreckage. They were round objects with a metallic appearance. One was red and then pulsed to orange, Another was blue, changing to purple. The last was yellow to green. The colors changed slowly. There was no blinking. I walked out onto the tarmac and I stood next to the marine who had dropped his rifle and gazed at the spectacle as if he

were in a trance. He never noticed me walk past him. Now I was standing next to the helicopter and directly under the UFOs. They now hovered silently fifty feet above me, still maintaining their triangular formation. Each vessel looked to be one hundred feet in diameter. I felt no heat or wind, and the area was silent. They hung in the sky as if strings held them in place. I don't know how long I stood watching. It could have been thirty seconds,

or it could have been three hours. There were no voices in my head, but I distinctly got the message to get off the tarmac. So I turned my back to the wreckage and I walked back the way that I had come in. The guard was in front of me, walking in the same direction towards the field and the brush. He was in a zombie like state, putting one foot in front of the other, with no animation or interest

in what was happening around him. I walked by the rifle he had dropped earlier, and I caught up with him at the edge of the concrete and we both to watch the UFO slowly began gaining an elevation, and then they shot into the sky like bullets, stopping briefly as pinpoints of light in the sky, and then they vanished. The guard looked over at me, appearing to be a bit surprised to see me there. So I headed back to the car, not saying a word. It was time to go back. At the coffee shop, I met my

buddies in the parking lot. They had watched the whole event from here. A bunch of chickens, I mumbled. They made the case that they might be chickens, but at least they weren't crazy, and I actually think they had a point. I proceeded to tell them the whole story. The whole thing really was crazy. Twenty years later, my wife and I were attending a wedding dinner for the daughter of my friend Ken, who was at the coffee shop parking lot that night. We all sat at a

large table and the discussion was lively. From across the table, I heard Ken say, Hey, Mark, why don't you tell that story about the UFOs? At Miles State Park. Some of our friends laughed, but Ken and I didn't. I went on to tell the story to a mesmerized audience. I was almost to the end of the story when Ken's wife blurted, Oh my god, you mean that story is true. Ken laughed and he said, I've been telling

you that story for years. Yes, it's true. We all saw them, and oh, crazy here took off in his car and snuck into that park like it was no big deal. All he wanted was a front row seat. All of this has really been blocked out until recently. I've heard so many stories and started putting two and two together. I didn't know what it was that I saw until recently, and some things leading up to it and things that happened afterward have put it all in perspective.

My name is John and I'm a firefighter and a minister of the gospel. What happened to me happened when I was twelve years old. That was back in nineteen eighty seven. I lived in a neighborhood in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. The neighborhood was not huge, but not small either. However, every bit of it was surrounded by woods, There were also bayous not too far away that we would sneak away and fish in. And we knew most of the

woods around there like the back of our hands. We had b begun wars and pine cone wars and bottle rocket wars, and we camped out and we built forts, and you get the picture. We loved the woods and we played and we played hard, except there was this one section of woods when you first entered the neighborhood that we just never felt comfortable in. We call those woods the creepy woods. When you entered the neighborhood, they

were on the left hand side. I remember my friend's dad took us back there mudding in the back of his pickup truck, and they seemed like they went on forever. In reality, I believe if you followed them far enough, it would drop into a huge subdivision several miles away. We could never put our finger on it. We just didn't like going back there again. It was just creepy. Thinking back, there was a gravel road that us kids used to take to the old country store a couple

of miles away. We were able to avoid the busy main road to get there, and that gravel road covered a section of those creepy woods. It was just close enough to the main road where you could hear the traffic, so it didn't seem quite as creepy. My dad used to send me to that old country store to get his newspaper every Saturday and Sunday morning. I guess that

walk was between one and two miles. There were so many times that I would take that walk and feel like I was being watched, and I would stop walking and I would listen, because even though I was walking on the gravel, I swore I could hear leaves crunching, like something was keeping pace with me. Many times I was with my friends and we would all get the same sensation. Somebody would tell everyone to stop and be quiet,

and we would just listen. It was eerie, but we almost always chalked it up to us being scared of the creepy woods. One night, my dad was driving me home from a little league baseball game. He was president of the league, so we almost always got home late. As he took a right into our neighborhood, the creepy woods were on the left. We went in one hundred yards and then took another right. There was a field that we played baseball and football on right across from

those woods. As he took that right, our headlights shined into the field and that's when we saw it. The lights caught glowing amber colored eyes and a shadow of something that was absolutely huge. We both saw it for a split second and we passed it. It was so quick that neither of us could get any great detail. Dad let out, oh, what the heck was that and slammed on the brakes and he threw the truck in reverse,

and then it was gone. We sat there for a minute or two and discussed what we had thought we'd seen, and after a short discussion, we determined that we both saw it, so we knew we were not making it up. We told my mom and sister when we got home, and they thought we were trying to scare them. Well, we went out the next day and we walked around the field where we saw it, and there was a lone pine tree on that end of the field, twenty

five feet from where we had seen the shadow. At a best guess, we determined this creature was at least eight feet tall. Now I remember the ground was dry, so we never found any tracks, and over the next week, we had to quit talking about it and we got back to our daily routine a few weeks later. I remember this it was the same summer because we moved away shortly after. My buddy and I were walking to his house. It was just after dark and we were going to see if we could stay the night. We

had to walk by the field. My dad and I saw this creature in and honestly I hadn't thought much more about it, but as we walked by, I got another uneasy feeling that we were being watched. I did the best I could to ignore it. I didn't mention anything to him because I didn't want him to think I was crazy or scared. We got to his house and his parents would not let us stay the night,

so I was stuck walking back home by myself. As I once again approached the field, this time it was on my right, there were two ways that I could go home. I could either cut through the woods to the left, which shortened up my trip quite a bit, or I could go straight and take the road, which I added several minutes. I was going to take the woods. I'd done it a hundred times, and as I was about to take the turn, into the woods. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, and

my heart started racing, and I literally became fearful. Something on the inside of me screamed, do not go that way, and I listened to that voice, and I took off, running as fast as I could down the gravel road. I ran all the way home with tears streaming down my face, and I never looked aback. I think I broke a world record that night. I opened the door and went straight to my room, and I never discussed

it with anyone. I've never had that kind of fear come over me before, and I've never had it since. But after listening to so many encounters, there's no doubt in my mind what was out there. Again, I never talked to any of my friends about it, and only recently I'm forty four years old now did I ask my dad if he remembered that huge creature we saw in the field that night. He had not thought about it until I mentioned it, he said, And I told him what I thought it was, and he didn't disagree

with me. That is what I believe to be my encounter. It may not be as exciting as some that I've heard but I will always remember the fear that I felt that lone night. I will always remember those amber colored eyes in that dark shadow that stood in the field.