Here is an email from someone who wants to be anonymous. But this is pretty good. This is a bit well, let's just read the story and you'll know what I was about to say. Like many of your listeners, I've spent the majority of my life in the woods. I began hunting when I was six years old, and I've been trapping since I was ten. That amounts to forty eight years of experience, and I've seen most of the
critters that will Cox County, Alabama has to offer an outdoorsman. But what I saw and felt that day was unlike anything I had ever experienced in the woods before, or anywhere else for that matter. I was near a creek with a pine thicket on one side and hardwood bottoms on the other. The tree that I had climbed it was a thirty five minute walk from my back door. It was my habit to get there well before sunrise because the walk down can be a bit noisy, not to mention climbing up the tree,
and I didn't want to scare anything away right before shooting time. If everything went well, and it did that day, I would be up in the tree for a good twenty minutes in complete darkness, letting the woods settle down before daylight. That particular morning, the woods were silent, the kind of
pin dropping at seventy five yards with a loud bang. Quiet. Because of that, I had crept in as slowly and as quietly as I possibly could, and I did my best to stay in the pine straw and out of a leaf litter that would have sounded like potato chips being crunched under my boots. As always, I was trying to control my breathing and trying to keep from getting too hot and breaking into a sweat. It would have been easy to do with all my gear on, but very bad on a cold day.
I tend to climb a little higher than most because I have learned that it takes the scent factor out of the game. A white tailed buck's nose can't reach forty foot up a tree, which gives me a big advantage.
I was sitting up there and relaxing and taking in Mother Nature and all her therapeutic sights and sounds and smells, while waiting for the sun to wake up and rouse the critters, and all around me were fifty to sixty foot tall pine trees, and some of them had been knocked down by various tropical storms
or hurricanes that had come through. When the sun finally began to stick its head up over the horizon, and though it was still pretty dark, I noticed standing thirty five feet to my right, near a stump of a pine that had been snapped off. Around seven feet up was a silhouette of a creature that I didn't recognize, and it was looking right at me. I won't repeat the exact sentence I was saying because it was loaded with explotives,
but the gist of it, will was what is that thing? Because it was still dark in the woods, I couldn't see it well enough to try to determine exactly what it was or what its intentions were. As we locked eyes, every emotion erupted inside of me. I was frozen in place, but anxiety and fear were running in circles inside my brain, and from somewhere else, though somewhere much deeper in that conscious thought, I felt a calming
sensation that assured me that everything was going to be okay. The sun continued to rise and I eventually began to see more details, and I realized that I was looking at a juvenile sy squatch. It was about six feet tall, with long, light, dark brown hair, and human looking facial features. It had the whitest of white eyes and black pupils. We continued our staring contests for a full twenty five minutes. It didn't move, and neither
did the entire time. It was communicating with me without saying a word. It was reading my thoughts. It knew I was in the woods all the time and that I wouldn't do it any harm. I sat there, I still locked with it, and I got the overwhelming sensation that I should look to my left. Well. I didn't want to. I wanted to keep looking at the juvenile, but my mind was telling me that the mother or father was standing to the left. I gave in and looked, but there
was nothing there. But when I look back to my right, the juvenile was gone. There was not a peep or a sound. It was just gone. I'm convinced that it became invisible or it evaporated. I stayed up in my tree all day and I tried to process what had happened. When I got down, I didn't walk over to where it had been standing. I knew the leaf litter was too thick for it if left any prince. I've only shared this story with two other people. It's hard to imagine anyone
believing me, but I felt the need to share it with you. So there it is. Thank you for reading it. Well, you're welcome, sir. Thank you for sending it's I appreciate that more than anything. I thought this was a good story. I've read a few stories where people seem to be able to communicate with these creatures through telepathy. I guess it is I don't know, reading each other's minds, or they seem to put thoughts
in your heads. I think he's right. It's hard for people to believe, but boy, it sure makes for a good story, and I thought this one was fantastic. So thank you, sir for sending it in. Hey, y'all, welcome to the channel. Appreciate you clicking on the video. My name's Cam Buckner and this is the Dixie Crypti podcast, also known as to what If It's True Podcast out on the podcast Network. On any app you can look up what If It's True Podcast. It'll be right at
the top. You can listen to it that way. A lot less data, a lot less battery use on your device a try. I just wanted to say hi. I've been putting up some shorts, kind of funny shorts with some of these blurry pictures, and some people are having fits about it, and I'm just having fun. I just thought it was funny. It's not a big deal, and I might put more up. There're just some pictures I found roaming around the internet. But those blurry pictures with the little
red circles around them where you can't see anything. Everybody knows you can't see anything. Even the people who use these pictures, they know you can't see anything. I have no idea why anybody puts those out, but I'm not making fun of anybody. They're just funny in general, and I'm just having fun. I'm not making fun of anyone. Good grief. Oh, speaking of pictures, I want to let y'all know we got a new dog. Let me throw a picture of him up here. He's moving pretty fast through
the woods, so he's kind of blurry, so I outlined him. But any pretty it's a big old black lab. We're gonna have fun together. I'll just leave this up until I'm done talking. It doesn't matter if I change anything. In this channel slightly. If I try to do something funny, if I try to do something fun if I try to do something serious, if I do a piece of fiction, if I do a book, if I do shorts, somebody is gonna complain. I don't there's no way
to please everybody. Didn't mean to make anybody mad. I pull up those shorts and I try to look at them and see what is so offensive about them, and I can't see anything offensive. Matter of fact, when I watch them, I just crack up laughing. They're just funny. So if you want to see those shorts, go to my page. Look at the shorts, and it's the last four or five shorts I've done. I probably won't do too many of those, but I learned how to do this.
I think it's called cap cut. My son had put some videos up on TikTok and he had used it, and I'm like, how did you do that? And he showed me the software, and so it just takes a minute to do them, and they're fun and funny, and that's all it is. So everybody lighting up, all the big orthodox people, those are the ones that are getting all bent out of shape. Those are the ones who always get bent out of shape. I have no dog in this hunt
with Bigfoot. I could care less if Bigfoot exists. It makes no difference in my life whether it exists or doesn't. If there is ever solid proof and the scientific community agrees that Bigfoot exists, great. If they never do, great, I could care less. This is not a Bigfoot channel.
This is a story channel. I've said it a million times. This channel's five years old, and I have to repeat that over and over and over because these real serious Bigfoot people it's like it's like they have no sense of humor. I don't know what it is. It's not all of the Bigfoot pee, it's just the ones that are. They complain about everything. All that said, I've got a couple of shorts up, no offense intended. I'm not taking them down. They're just funny little twenty Some of them are
six seconds, some of them are nine seconds. They're just funny little shorts. It's not a big deal. Calm down, all right, let's get on with this podcast. I got a couple more stories. Hope you enjoy it. All right, here we go. This email is from Trevor. This is a good little story I'm a farm kid from southwest Iowa. Like most farm kids, I grew up hunting and fishing and spending a lot of time in the woods around our farm. My grandfather taught me all that I
knew about those woods. And it was my grandfather who encouraged my love of hunting and who taught me the best ways to hunt. And he also told me all kinds of stories about the natives that live in Iowa and where they camped. When I was eleven, we were out raccoon hunting one night on a piece of thick timberland with deep ditches. It was a real jungle in there, like it was before the European and settled this area. I was nervous about being out in the dark, but my grandpa was with me,
and I knew I was safe with him. His hunting dog, Copper, was hot on the trail of a raccoon and we could hear her barking and howling all through the woods. She hadn't treated it yet, but we were waiting for that telltale change and her call that would tell us that she had it cornered. And it was our turn to step in and do our job. And then something happened that I couldn't understand. After one of her house something answered back. It was obviously a lot larger, and it sounded almost
menacing. I turned to my grandfather, and I am asking what that sound was, and I was shocked to see that the sound had stopped him in his tracks. My grandfather wasn't the kind of man to scare easily, but this definitely had him spoot. His face was whiter than I'd ever seen it, as if all the blood had drained out of his body. What was that? I asked, suddenly more afraid than I ever thought I could be.
He never answered me. He just ushered me out of the woods as fast as we could go, and we left behind the raccoons we'd harvested that night. Once we got back to the house, I asked him again, what was that, Grandpa? We don't have any big predators in southern Iowa, and I knew it was no cow out there. Grandpa sat me down and told me about all the things out there in the woods. He said
that the natives had run ins with these creatures all the time. There was even a native burial site out there somewhere in those woods dedicated to the warriors who had lost their lives battling these creatures. He said he had heard that those things were called corn stalkers because they would walk through the cornfields and rippirs of corns from the stalks as they went. The timber where we heard that
howl was no more than three miles from my grandparents' house. Grandpa used to have a nail driven into a telephone pole in front of his yard, on which he would put out a whole ear of corn for the squirrels to eat. And one day he walked out and find the nail bent over on itself. He keeps it on his mantle as a family heirloom today. Oh man, that was cool. At eleven years old hearing a story like that. That would scare the crap out of me. Did y'all wait on the dog?
Did the dog ever come back? Or did y'all just leave the dog out in the woods running the raccoons? I'm just curious. And but that was a really good story. It was really intriguing. I like that kind of it's kind of creepy. It wasn't like horrifying, but it was kind of creepy. I loved it. I really appreciate the writer for sending it in. Thank you, sir. Okay, here's a story. Let me get my mic adjusted. Here. Here's a story I got a while back.
It's really good. It's the man doesn't give his name, but he claims the story is one hundred percent true. It was finally here the day I had waited nearly four years for. It was my ets date from the United States Army. I had a good run with active duty military, but I was ready to go home, and for me, that was the small town in Louisiana where I grew up. I packed everything into a moving van
and I hit the road along with my reluctant wife. She was from the same area in Texas where I was stationed, and to say that she was moping about moving to Louisiana was an understatement of maximum proportions. But to her credit, though she came with me. We decided to stay with my aunt and uncle until we found a place of our own, which didn't take long. Almost immediately, a small, two bedroom, one bath house on Front Street came available for only three point fifty a month, and that was a
godsend. I had known people who had lived in that house all my life. After all, this was a small town. We moved our stuff in quickly and settled into our routine, and my uncle had given me a job working in his body shop, and my wife went to work at a daycare center in West Monroe. Things were looking pretty good for us, especially for having only recently gotten out of the military. Now I can't quite put my finger on where, when, or how all that began to change. At
first, it was little things. A bedroom door would be opened that we thought had been closed. A light would flicker or go out completely and then come back on a few minutes later. There were all kinds of things that were easily attributed to the age of the house, a settling foundation, or bad wiring. Considering the age of the house, I figured it was a miracle that any of the doors closed completely and stayed that way without sticking.
I think the first thing that really threw me for a loop happened one night while my wife and I were watching TV. She had a scented candle burning in a heart shaped glass dish. Suddenly, the dish broke in half. I thought it was the heat from the candle, but it was weird that it hadn't burned down low enough to create that much heat, and even if it had, that dish was pretty thick. I couldn't see how it could
have burst. My wife was freaking out, and I went over to extinguish the candle, but to my surprise, the flame would not go out. I thought that was odd, but I wasn't about to let a candle spoop me, so I went to the kitchen and got a glass of water, and when I poured it over the flame, it shot up two feet and
almost burned my hand. I decided that it must have been something to do with how I poured the water in the candle that caused it to flare up like that, but since it ultimately put the flame out, we went back to watching TV and we forgot about it. Things were quiet for a while after that, aside from the normal doors opening on their own and lights flickering. And then I decided to get my wife a puppy to help cheer her up from the loneliness that she was feeling in her new hometown. It was
a rat terrier that I had found in the newspaper. I figured it would be a great small dog to keep her company, especially when I had to work late or on weekends. My dog's name was Roscoe. A couple of weeks later, we had gone to bed, but weren't quite asleep yet, and Roscoe had already taken to sleeping with us. He was curled up near my head when suddenly he jumped up and ran down to the foot and he
started barking and growling as if someone was standing there. I yelled at him to knock it off, and no sooner had he turned around to come back up to his favorite spot at the head of the bed, than the TV turned itself on with white noise blasting. Now that television did not have a remote, we had forgotten it back in Texas. So I jumped up and I unplugged it, and it took us a minute, but we finally calmed down and we went to sleep. Neither of us was ever comfortable staying at
the house alone. There was a constant feeling of being watched. One Saturday, we were sleeping in when we heard a bottle break out in the kitchen and I got up and found the cabinet door open and one of my hot sauce bottles broken on the floor. Well, that was the point when I didn't want to be there anymore. Me a veteran of the US Army and a current member of the National Guard, I was afraid of a house. Weeks went by with us adjusting to the strange things happening and doing our best
to act like it was nothing but our imaginations or coincidence. And then we got an imitation to a cousin's wedding in Minnesota. I had to work, but my wife decided to go with my aunt. They left after work on Thursday, and that night was the scariest night of my life. I got home, I showered, and I went to bed around ten thirty that night. As I was lying there trying to get to sleep, something got into bed with me. I could feel the eyes burning into the back of my
head, and it felt like something pure evil was behind me. At that point, as brave as I have been for my country, I covered my head with my blanket like a five year old trying to hide from the boogeyman. Eventually, out of pure exhaustion, I fell asleep. I was never so happy as I was when I opened my eyes again and saw the sun come up. The next morning. It was the last night that I would spend in that house alone. After that, I couldn't stay at a friend's
house. I would go camping. A couple of weeks later, I was called up with the National Guard to go to Iraq in Oif three. My wife had already made the same decision not to stay in the house alone. So when I came home on mid tour leave, we found a nice place on a five acre plat in a neighboring town, all in. Natural gas hit big in our area not long after that, and I noticed that some of the workers rented the old house, and then someone else did, and
then there was someone else. No one ever stays there for long, And to this day I still marvel at how a little house like that could harbor so much evil, And I find myself wondering exactly what kind of evil it is. Oh man, that's scary. If something crawls in the bed with me and I'm supposed to be alone, I'm coming out of that bed, and if I can reach my gun, I'm gonna shoot my bed to nothing. Maybe I shouldn't do that, Maybe it's my wife coming home and surprising
me or something, But at any rate, you get my point. I'm coming out of that bed and I'm gonna turn a light on or something that is so creepy. That is so creepy. But this story was good. I appreciate the gentleman who sent it to me. Appreciate what you did, and I writ I know that was some tough uh those were tough deployments, and I'm sure you did a great job. I appreciate the story. Thank you very much. Thank you all for listening to this podcast. I really
appreciate you. I am out of work officially. The gaps between me putting up podcasts are over. I am going to be working on Blood Eagle, working on Steve Lily, and I'm going to try to put up at least five podcasts out a week. Only take a couple of days off to do other things. But I'm back one hundred percent. I thank you for being patient with me as I got through that. I started that job back in June. So what's at June six? Almost eight months. I've just been
buried with work and it was a horrible job. I wish I'd have never taken it, but I told him i'd do it. I got in the middle of it, and you just can't quit. But I'm finally finished with it, and I'm podcasting full time for at least a couple three months, and I'm really looking forward to it and i want to get a lot of stuff done and getting new Steve Lily out and it's just going to be a big fun time for me. So thank you all for being patient, thanks
for watching this podcast. I really appreciate you. And we'll see you guys on the next one. Thank you.