The story is from Dennis. Own excuse me. This story is from Dennis, and here's what he writes. My first encounter was something that couldn't be explained. Happened to me back in nineteen eighty seven. I was a sixteen year old boy, and I wasn't afraid of anything, at least while my
dad and uncles were nearby. It was a family tradition at the time for all of us to wake up at three am and travel the hour and a half to our favorite hunting spot, the oak Okay here we go with a pronunci pronunciation mangle oak muggly oak muggly ok m u lge wildlife area in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Once we arrived to the general area, it was a mile hike back to where we would set up camp. On this particular morning, we were running late, and as we arrived just before sun up, the
cooties were already sounding off in the distance. They made me feel a little unsettled since I was walking into the deep dark forest with just a flashlight. But my dad and my uncles were there to reassure me or at least poke fun of me, making me forget any of my fears. About the woods. We had been hunting together for years, and like family, we knew each other pretty well. For whatever reason, the rest of them decided to venture off into the woods, leaving me and my rifle to occupy an old
deer stand. To me, it looked like an old outhouse with a small window on either side, and after sweeping the cobwebs out of it with my hands, I closed the door behind me. I looked out the windows, and I scanned the woods for coyotes, and around seven am noticed a young dough off to my right. She was probably seventy yards away. According to the laws at the time, you could only take a dough on selected days, and I raised my rifle. The dough was laboring to breathe, and
it staggered toward the stand, and then it collapsed. Dear run from humans, Yet the dough was just lying there, motionless. I couldn't pull the trigger on her. And then I heard something rustle in the bushes behind the stand, and I pointed my rifle in the same direction, and I waited a few seconds, but nothing emerged. The dough struggled to her feet and disappeared over the ridge ahead of me, and the bushes rustled again, but
the noise was coming from a different direction. No sooner than I had refocused my attention, the sound would drift to my right and then to my left. I was spinning in circles, trying to figure out which window to aim my rifle out. I was sure a herd of deer were going to fly out of the brush from all directions at any time. And then something slammed into the side of the shooting house with enough force to knock me off my
feet, and it was followed by a blood curdling the screen. My back was against the wall, and I slid into a crouched position, and I clutched my rifle, and I panicked, and I burst through the door, determined to outrun whatever had crashed into the stand. When I got to our truck, my uncle was sitting inside the cab. He was having a smoke, and I was out of breath, and I asked why he wasn't out in the woods hunting, And something's out there, was all he said.
My dad and my other uncle stumbled in a few minutes later, and they threw their gear into the back of the truck and they climbed inside the cab, and a few minutes later we were on the highway headed home. For all of our big talk about hunting, we left empty handed that day. Apparently each of them had heard the same thing that I had heard, an inhuman scream that echoed through the trees. Each accused the other of pulling a
prank. I realized whatever had hit the side of my shooting house, it did so with such force that it certainly couldn't have come from any of my uncles or my dad. The oak, the Oak Muggy Wildlife Management Area is an old Indian burial ground. It's rich in Indian traditions. Just look up Moundville sometime. And that's the end of his story. And all four of them, all three or four of them had an experience. That's pretty cool.
I wonder if Dennis, if you guys ever talked about it again or speculated on what it could be. I'd be curious to hear about that. But it's a good story. I really appreciate it. It's an exciting story and a hard time to go through for a sixteen year old boy, but it's very cool. Thanks for sending it all, right, Welcome to the podcast. My name is Cam Buckner. This is the Dixiecrypted podcast, also
known as the what If It's True Podcast. On any podcast app, just search for what If It's True. The podcast will come up on Spotify, Apple, Google, Stitcher, any of the podcast app that you use, so give it a trial over there. The only thing I could say before we get into the last three stories of this podcast is to remind you of the Alabama Bigfoot Conference on June the tenth in Anniston, Alabama. There will be a link in the description. I know some of the people putting it
on It looks very interesting. I do know this. It doesn't cost anything to get in there, and probably everything in Anniston, Alabama is a lot cheaper than gatlin Burg. So if you ever want to go to a smaller Bigfoot conference, this would be the one to go to. I'm going to try to make it over there on June tenth, so I hope to see you there. I'm gonna have a booth. I'm just going to kind of be wandering around and seeing some friends, and hopefully I'll get to meet some
of the people who listen to the podcast. That would be great. All right, nothing of that. Let's get on with the rest of the podcast. Let's do this all right, here we go. Okay, I have a story here. I'm not I know who the email address name. I know what the name is on the email address, but the story kind of confused me because he signed off as a mail. But it's the story sounds like a woman wrote it. But I'm going to read the story anyway because
it's really good. So let's do it. Let's do this. In nineteen seventy two, I was sitting outside my mother in law's house in the country on a hot August night, trying to catch a cool breeze. Not everyone had air conditioning back then. Several of my husband's family members were sitting out there with me, also trying to escape the heat of the summer, when
something appeared in the sky above us that made us all look up. It was a circular disk covering above the tree tops at the top of the hill, and although we could only see the bottom of it, there was a row of different colored blinking lights all around that part that we could see. I felt drawn to go up to the top of the hill to get a better look, and I walked up and still carrying my son, and I
stood there directly under it. For several minutes, I couldn't take my eyes off of it, and at the bottom of the hill, my mother in law was calling for me in terror to get back down there to them. Realizing that I might be putting my son in danger, I backed away, and as soon as I did, it shot straight up and disappeared with incredible speed. At that point, we all went inside to see if there was anything on TV about it, and the newsman was announcing that anyone who saw
something strains in the sky shouldn't be worried. It was just a weather balloon gone astray, he said, a weather balloon with lights all around it, and that can move at unbelievably high rates of speed. Yeah right. I carried that memory with me all the way up until two thousand and fifteen. At that time, I was working at a store and had punched out at ten fifteen pm. My grandson Josh was with me and we were driving home when a bright blue craft floated out above the trees. It was close enough
that we could even see windows on it. I wish we'd thought to pull over and get some pictures of it, but in hindsight, as they say, it's twenty twenty. Over the next two years, we witnessed two more separate events. In two and sixteen, a spherical object appeared and ascended near our local airport, and at that time my husband saw a similar object on
his to work. And then in two and seventeen, we were walking down the road from my house and we looked up to see three cigar shaped crafts all in a row above us, and one by one, they each ascended with lightning speed, just like that, they were gone. Now, these things were not balloons. They had capabilities that weather balloons don't have, and weather balloons don't have flashing lights on them. I'm sure of it. When they started appearing to our Air Force during World War Two, they call them
the food fighters. I'm sure that some things have reasonable explanations, but not the craft that was directly over my head. That I can describe, but I cannot explain it. Oh. I love these UFO stories, you know, you know, I hate to pop some of the Bigfoot people's bubble. But there's a lot more evidence. There's a lot more video evidence and witness evidence, image evidence of UFOs then there ever will be of Bigfoot. That's why I love these so much. There's something it. It could be something
from this earth, it could be from outer space. I don't know, but people get images of this stuff all the time, all the time. And now the federal government is starting to come out and some of our military are starting to say they don't know what these things are. I don't know that it's everything's been fully disclosed, but it's really really interesting stuff. From a bystander like me who has no skin in that game, it is really
really interesting to read about. So thank you very much for the story, ma'am. Here is a story from Kim, and here's what she writes. My husband Tim got me into cryptozoology and had done a lot of research on the topic before I came into his life. That crypto bug got ahold of me as well. It's true seekers. We love to find out the real meaning behind various subjects, from natural health to politics, pretty much all the things that don't make sense the way the mainstream gives it to us. Tim
and I lived in the United Kingdom. We met in two thousand and twelve at a property and business weekend where we immediately fell a deep bond in connection. He still was with his former relation at the time, and we both had some life lessons to go through. We connected daily through Messenger and WhatsApp in February of two sixteen, and finally we met up again in a flash
in mid July, which felt like the most exciting thing ever. And when we stood face to face, I got psychic flashbacks of our previous lives. I believe we had been Native Americans and had raised two children together. Sadly, early death had also claimed him during his former life, and the feeling I always had of deep intense grief carried over to the present. At twenty
and seventeen, Tim was diagnosed with a recurrent stage four breast cancer. After the surgery, we decided to treat it naturally, as our research showed the major bad implications of the available common methods. The doctors gave Tim perhaps a year to live maybe two with the newest chemo, and the potential side effects were horrible. Tim went against the doctors and decided that he wanted a quality of life instead. We learned about RSO, the THHC concentrate championed by cannabis
advocate Rick Simpson. Because cannabis was and still is stupidly illegal in the UK. We contacted some people in California who create medicine from the plants they grow themselves. They became our dear friends. Tim went to California in September and I followed suit in November once I retained my passport. He and our friends ends traveled from Clear Lake Oaks to Mount Shasta, where they stayed at the Bunny Flat Campground. In my absence, Tim's first big foot encounter took place.
He was on a video chat with me and our friend Patty wanted to meditate at her favorite spot. They went their separate ways for what was meant to be only one hour. It was a gorgeous sunny day on the mountains, so Tim and I walked in converse for the last forty minutes until his batteries began getting low and we lost connection. That was when Tim realized he
was lost. He still had his iPad and he started to film, and in the back of his mind he thought, if he didn't make it out of the wilderness, there was a video on his iPad for others to find. He was walking in circles. The sun was beginning to set, and he followed the game trail where he saw huge human footprints and what appeared to be bear tracks. Both were fresh, so he look into his pace. He was an Englishman in a foreign land, stumbling around the vastness. He
wasn't familiar with where he could be the meal of some indigenous predator. He crossed a small stream, where oddly he saw a neatly stacked pile of pine cones on a nearby rock. He thought he heard rustling in the bushes as he found more human tracks. It had been five hours since he had left the campsite, and he felt a huge sense of relief when he saw headlights. He flagged down a man who gave him a lift back to where Patty
was in tears waiting for him. She had naturally feared the worst. When I finally arrived in the States, Tim and I analyzed the iPad video. It was a bit like identifying figures in the infamous Kennedy assassination footage shot by Abraham's The Pruder cryptids seemed to appear everywhere. They were behind trees and bushes, and they stalked him from every angle. He had been blissfully unaware. We went on trips with another couple met through mutual friends, and we found
a footprint of a creature that matched an Egyptian type of dog man. The pal merged the shape of a dog at the front with a human heel in the back, with three toes each sporting long claws. I made loads of pictures with Tim that featured shapes and figures through very dark and mostly hidden through the trees in England, though the encounters are not as exciting as in the
United States. One night outside our farm, I got out of my car and I was approaching the gate, and I swore I saw a dark human ord figure standing near a pine cone tree before it seemed to vanish into the shadows. A pine cone tree would just be a pine tree, Kim, I'm just letting you know. Anyway, Tim and I wanted to go to
the United States and fully expected to celebrate a victory over his cancer. But during the period of time we had returned to the United Kingdom, the cancer had six months to come back with a vengeance, and it had spread to his lungs, bones, and hips. The RSO had helped him to live much longer than the doctors predicted. He had not missed those treatments, and
I firmly believe he would have been cured. To this day, I miss him, the sound of his voice and his reassurances that despite the craziness of the world, everything was going to be okay. And shortly after his death, I took a random picture of the wooded area outside our farm. I liked the cover, so I had it blown up and custom framed. Visitors who view it comment on the way the shadows fall gracefully across the trees. It's always amazed me how none of them has ever noted my dear departed Tim,
clearly mugging for the camera. Thank you for that story, Kim. I'm sorry about Tim. I'm sorry about really a lot of things I read in this story. But it's always hard to lose someone you love. I thought i'd let you know that, but thank you for the story. It's kind of it's a really good story. With all the images you guys came up with on his iPad, it's very cool. I wonder if you've posted
that anywhere. You'd be smart not to, but if you did, I'm sure you've got a lot of criticism for those images that you pointed out in your video. This is a story I got from Little Shepherd Farm. I've had this for a long time. I just have not been able to get to it. I think Little Shepherd Farm has a YouTube channel. You guys can look it up. If this is the same Little Shepherd Farm. I think he does some homesteading stuff and probably interesting things to look at. But
here's what he writes. I'm a fifty seven year old man who lives in Ohio, and I'm thirty five miles east of Cleveland. As a youngster, I developed an affinity for strange things like UFOs, the Lochness Monster, and to a lesser extent, Bigfoot. Starting at the age of five, I went hunting with my dad and older brothers in the woods of Tayannesta, Pennsylvania. I think I got that right. I grew up to be a hunter and a fisherman, and I even did a bit of trapping as a teenager.
If you've ever seen the movie Bigfoot The Mentor Marsh Story, then you'll know where I used to trap and hunt. We lived in a trailer park with three hundred acres behind it, where my brother and I a long was Several friends used to play on a daily basis. There were dirt bike trails and beaver dams and streams all through the woods, and we ate fresh fruit growing wild back there, so even though we were really poor, we were
never hungry. The acreage has since been bought up and revamped with newly built homes in a housing development where the woods used to be. My parents were divorced when I was about five, and my mother eventually remarried when I was ten, and we moved to a town called Painesville, Ohio. Thank you God for somebody writing a story with the name of a town I can pronounce. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I ran with a couple of redneck boys in that city. Throughout my life, I have never seen
a sasquatch. I wanted to believe in them, but I was a skeptic like everyone else, because I never saw any other proof other than the Patterson Gimblin film and the six Dollars Man Show, where they were depicting a jokingly weird Bigfoot in a few episodes speaking of the six million Dollar Man. In the summer of two ten, I had a really bad accident that left me with a bad head injury, and I was one hundred percent disabled. I had a big four wheeler that flipped while going up a hill and it landed
on top of me from height of twelve feet. It shattered both of my cheekbones. And now I have I have wire mesh screws and titanium plates instead of bones. And I should mention that I had had on a full faced helmet at the time, and if I had been without it, I wouldn't be here today to tell the story. We owned three German shepherds and these dogs were excellent protection. A few years ago, when my neighbors homes got broken into, they skipped my place, no doubt, because of the dogs
are aggressive towards strangers. I was cutting the grass with my little lawnmower out bag beyond the kennel when I saw a worn spot in the dirt. It was a huge circle. It's probably fifteen feet in diameter. Now, I thought it was odd because even deer don't come on to our land because of the dogs. During that time, they were going to the screen on the back porch nightly and barking their heads off as soon as we went to bed. And when you lived near woods, get a little edgy when your animals
start acting out. I thought we had some trespassers, human or otherwise. Well, this kept us up for weeks on end, and I wasn't getting any sleep at all. I kept my rifle next to me in my bed. It was two am when my dogs once more woke me from a deep sleep. They had roused me so many times for nothing. I stopped getting out of bed, But that night I decided to get up and use the bathroom and then go take a look, and I grabbed my rifle. There
was something moving around out there. The limbs on the big pine trees were waving back and forth. I took aim and turned on the red laser light and put that bead right in the middle of whatever was looking at me. It appeared to be enormous as it loomed over the top of the kennel fence
before it lumbered out of you. Perhaps I'd only gotten a glimpse of what a lot of bigfoot researchers derisively call a blob squatch, where some one aims a camera into the field of trees and they point to a particular dark spot and insist that they photographed encryptod when it's really nothing more than a power of suggestion. I still don't believe I've ever seen a sa squatch, and as a skeptic, I don't know whether that counts as good luck or bad.
Well, join the skeptic crew because I'm a skeptic. I'm not saying I don't believe, but I'm not saying I do. I'm saying there's law awful lot of stories about it, but that you know, without a body or without a specimen or capturing one, it's never going to be proved, is true. It's just not. It's there's no way it's going to happen. But it could have been a size squatch that you It could have been a size squatch that you saw out there a little shepherd farm. Who knows,
but this is an interesting story. And that fifteen foot round lay down where the grass is all laid down, now that's interesting to me. If it was like a perfect circle, what that You gotta wonder what in the world is going on with these things like that. You know, you've got crop circles, you've got places in the grass where things lay around. Usually you can find it where deer or betting. It's pretty easy to detect and figure
out what's going on there. But like a perfect circle. Who that's really interesting to me. Sorry till me so long to get to the story, but it was a really good one, Little Shepherd Farm, and I appreciate it. Thank you, sir, Thanks for listening. I really appreciate it. One last thing, I've been putting up some new and old Steve Lily stories on the Steve Lily Journals podcast and YouTube channel. I'm going to have a new one up this week. The new one will be number fourteen.
I hope you guys can join me over there. There'll be a link in the description for that channel as well. Thanks for joining me on this podcast. We'll see on the next one. Thanks