August 26, 2025 • 21 mins
My story took place south of Bear Mountain in La Flore County. My husband and I had a three-year-old and were tired of the hustle and bustle. So, for my birthday, he surprised me with an empty shell cabin on the mountain.
We both loved the outdoors. Even though I am a little lady, I still like to go hunting, hiking, and any other outdoor activity to prove I’m as good as the best of them. It was fitting that my husband moved me to this beautiful mountain. My husband drove a truck six months out of the ear, leaving me alone, but we both felt safe making the move.
Our cabin was finished in time for winter, which was right around the corner. One day, my son and I were home alone. It was about dusk, but still nice and warm outside. While my son played in the baby pool, I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and enjoyed myself. He and I always heard things like knocking when we were outside, but we were in the woods after all, and I have always been open to anything new out there.
As we were sitting there, we heard growling and laughter. That was no ordinary forest noise, so I went and got my Ruger. When I came back, my son was pointing to the burn pile, saying, “Boogie Man!”
I froze. There at the burn pile stood four Bigfoots. The male was at least eight feet tall. Next to him was a mother and two younger ones. She was holding one of them as she squatted next to the pile and gnawed on an old ham bone. The other young one had his hand on his mother’s shoulder, staring at us in disbelief, just like we were staring at him. The stench coming from them was so strong that I almost lost my cookies.
“They need a bath,” my son blurted out.
I burst out laughing—out the mouth of babes, as they say. I never did raise my pistol, but the big guy kept his eye on it, so he must have known what it was. After that experience, I started leaving more food out by the burn pile. Nothing much, just scraps from a hunt or apples and things. We never saw them again, but we could hear them in the woods still and knew they got our gifts. Oddly enough, they would leave us gifts in return. A stack of rocks they built for us was still there when we left the cabin years later.
My son is thirty now, and my husband is gone, but I will never forget my time on that enchanting mountain. Even though my son says he doesn’t remember, I’m glad for the time we had with our forest neighbors.
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We both loved the outdoors. Even though I am a little lady, I still like to go hunting, hiking, and any other outdoor activity to prove I’m as good as the best of them. It was fitting that my husband moved me to this beautiful mountain. My husband drove a truck six months out of the ear, leaving me alone, but we both felt safe making the move.
Our cabin was finished in time for winter, which was right around the corner. One day, my son and I were home alone. It was about dusk, but still nice and warm outside. While my son played in the baby pool, I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and enjoyed myself. He and I always heard things like knocking when we were outside, but we were in the woods after all, and I have always been open to anything new out there.
As we were sitting there, we heard growling and laughter. That was no ordinary forest noise, so I went and got my Ruger. When I came back, my son was pointing to the burn pile, saying, “Boogie Man!”
I froze. There at the burn pile stood four Bigfoots. The male was at least eight feet tall. Next to him was a mother and two younger ones. She was holding one of them as she squatted next to the pile and gnawed on an old ham bone. The other young one had his hand on his mother’s shoulder, staring at us in disbelief, just like we were staring at him. The stench coming from them was so strong that I almost lost my cookies.
“They need a bath,” my son blurted out.
I burst out laughing—out the mouth of babes, as they say. I never did raise my pistol, but the big guy kept his eye on it, so he must have known what it was. After that experience, I started leaving more food out by the burn pile. Nothing much, just scraps from a hunt or apples and things. We never saw them again, but we could hear them in the woods still and knew they got our gifts. Oddly enough, they would leave us gifts in return. A stack of rocks they built for us was still there when we left the cabin years later.
My son is thirty now, and my husband is gone, but I will never forget my time on that enchanting mountain. Even though my son says he doesn’t remember, I’m glad for the time we had with our forest neighbors.
Join my Supporters Club for $4.99 per month for exclusive stories:
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/what-if-it-s-true-podcast--5445587/support
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:09):
In August of nineteen seventy eight, just before the school
year started in Broward County, Florida, three friends and I
were playing kickball on our street. We lived ten miles
east of the Florida Everglades. During the game, one of
my friends kicked the ball between two houses. He went
to retrieve it, and when he came back, he came
(00:31):
back without the ball and with a look of dread
on his face. He told all of us that a
crazy man was standing in a big mango tree in
the back of one of our neighbors houses. The four
of us decided to walk back there together to see
what he was talking about, and when we approached, we
heard snorting and grunning. We all looked up into the
(00:52):
mango tree and saw a hairy man standing on one
of the big branches, and he was growling at us
and showing his teeth. He was only six feet tall.
He didn't fit the typical bigfoot description, but he was
covered in fur and all the wrong places, and he
scared the hell out of us. We all ran away screaming,
(01:13):
and we told one of our adult neighbors, who was
outside working on his car, what we had seen. All
He said to us was, Oh, you kids are just
imagining things. Go back to playing kickball. Later that night
we talked about what we saw. It looked like a
wild cave man with long, black, straggly hair and yellowish
(01:33):
teeth and bloodshot eyes. He was hairy, but he didn't
have hair covering his entire body like you hear about
in the usual bigfoot sightings. Maybe he was a Florida variety.
We never did talk about seeing that hairyman ever. Again. Hey, y'all,
(01:54):
welcome to the podcast. My name is Caam Buckner. This
is the Dixie Cryptid YouTube channel. I also do a
podcast called a what If It's True? Podcast? You can
find it on any podcast out and we don't have
memberships here on YouTube, no memberships. Everything is free. If
you don't like what you hear, I'll give you your
money back. I'll give you a full refund. How yack
(02:17):
at all? Right? I've got four or five stories in
this podcast I can't remember. I'll probably stick an archive
at the end. Hope you enjoy it all. Right, here
we go. We recently moved from the suburbs to a
rural area in southeast Texas. We have some neighbors, but
(02:38):
nobody's on top of us. Our neighbors have chickens and
cows and goats and horses. Well, we have eight dogs
and an eight foot privacy fence around our backyard. I
was outside with them one night and it was quiet
and peaceful, and we were all walking around the yard.
It was their last potty trip of the night. All
(02:59):
of a sudden, something snorted right outside the fence, like
when a dog is sniffing something and then blows their
out to clear their nose. And then it bellowed. It
was deep and loud and long. The sound vibrated in
my chest, and the bellow trailed off to a howl.
My blood ran cold and my heart stopped, and my
(03:21):
dogs all frozen their steps, and I screamed for everyone
to get in the house. And I've talked to hunters
and no one ever has an explanation. I've listened to
every animal sound on the internet. I can't find anything
like it. We have faral hogs and codies in the area,
and I've seen and heard them. Neither of them sounded
(03:43):
like what I heard. The neighborhood dogs have started disappearing
when we walk in the evening for exercise. We used
to have five dogs that followed us, but one by
one they've started disappearing with no explanation. All the chickens
are gone too. It used to be two flocks, and
now I won't let my dogs out alone, even with
(04:06):
an eight foot privacy fence. I don't go out after
dark except in my yard with my dogs, and I
try to limit that to once in evening. My husband
doesn't believe me, even though he saw how upset I
was the night that had happened. My sister thinks it's
a dog man, and I'm starting to think that she's right.
(04:27):
I'd love to hear what your listeners have to say.
I've been hunting and fishing since i was a young kid,
and I'm no stranger to the various critters roaming the woods.
It's swimming the waters all over Tennessee. I started fishing
and rabbit hunting around the age five with my grandfather.
(04:48):
I've seen it all, from ninety pound catfish to thirty
pound guards and everything in between. In nineteen eighty two,
my buddy and I had a fishing spot that we
could our bikes too. The spot was down on an
old farm road back through the crop land and cattle
pastures three miles from our houses off the paved road.
(05:10):
One day, we got to our fishing spots by midmorning,
and we got to it. The pond was an acre
in size. I was on one side and my buddy
was on the other, so we could face each other
while we were fishing. There was a fence line behind
my buddy, thick with briars and trees, with barbed wire
running the whole length. We'd only been there about half
(05:32):
an hour when I saw my friend running around the
edge of the pond, coming in my direction, looking like
he'd seen a ghost run, he said. He passed me,
jumped on his bike and took off, pedaling as fast
as he could. I'd never seen him act like that.
I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't
(05:53):
ask any questions. I jumped on my bike and followed
right after him. He had left his fishing gear behind
him was going as fast as he could. By the
time I caught up to him, he was already inside
my uncle's house on the phone with him, telling him
he needed to come home. My friend told him to
gather more adults and get their guns and go back
(06:16):
with him to the pond. After he hung up the phone,
I asked him what was wrong. He said that as
he was making a cast with his ride when his
lure hung on a branch behind him. When he turned
around to pull it off the branch, he saw a
ten foot tall monkey man covered in brown hair, standing
(06:36):
on the other side of the fence, and it was
staring at him. He said. His uncle told him not
to go back, and when he got off work, they
would go and get his fishing pole. It was several
weeks before we ever went back together, and when we did,
we had our shotguns with us. Years later, my wife
(06:57):
and I lived near a large bridge that went over
the ten Sea River. On one clear summer afternoon, we
decided to take a drive. We were going slow over
a bridge with no traffic behind us, and both of
us were looking out across the water. There was a
sailboat about a mile away, but no other boats that
(07:17):
we could see. Suddenly, a huge school of striped bass
started jumping in and out of the water. There must
have been two hundred of these fish. That was the
sight in and of itself, But it's what happened next
that still puzzles me till this day. Out of this
huge school of stripe bass came a massive gray serpent.
(07:41):
It was twisting and turning as it chased the jumping fish,
and it seemed to have schooled them up. It was
thirty feet long and it had no fins that I
could see. Instead of stopping the car and getting out
to watch, for some reason, I kept driving. I think
I was in shit. My wife saw it too, but
(08:02):
neither of us said a word as we watched it
for all of ten seconds. That doesn't sound long, but
it was long enough for me to get a good
look at it. It had scales the size of my fists,
and it was as stick as a semi truck tire.
This thing was massive. I didn't see its head or tail,
but some portions of its body were at least six
(08:25):
feet long coming out of the water as it swam around,
and I turned to my wife and I said, did
you see that? She looked at me and she said,
look like a giant snake. Turn around, turned around. When
we went back, it was gone. I reported it to
the local park ranger station that day, and the ranger
(08:45):
on duty wrote my story down with a funny look
on his face. I felt kind of strange telling him,
but I thought they should know about a thirty foot
lake serpent swimming in the waters, not far from a
huge marina full of boats and people. I asked my
wife some questions about what she had seen, because I
thought I might have been mistaken. But with every question
(09:08):
I asked her, she confirmed exactly what I had seen.
I remember trying to rationalize what I had seen with
something logical, like a tree floating in the water, an
overturned boatthule sticking up, or something like that. I've called
eels out of most every river system in Tennessee. They
(09:28):
have a slick skin similar to catfish, and they don't
have scales. But what we saw was larger than any
eel i'd ever seen. If it were a snake, it
was much bigger than those anacondas I've seen on the
nature channels, and being in Tennessee, I don't see how
one could survive and remain hidden being that size. In
(09:52):
October of twenty eighteen, I was loading my truck at
about three am to go archery hunting for whitetail. My
neighborhood at that time of night was stone cold, silent,
no wind, no noise, not even any of the neighbors
air conditioning units outside were running across the street maybe
(10:12):
fifty yards away. A house had a motion light at
the end of its driveway, and I've seen the light
triggered by deer that walk underneath it as they make
their way across the road and walk down a ditchbank
by my house. My hunting spot is only a quarter
mile away in the woods, and there are a bunch
of deer around that area. I was putting my bow
(10:36):
in the back of the truck and I heard a
cracking sound like someone cracking their knuckles, only louder. It
was so loud it startled me. I jerked around quickly,
and I saw the motion light on the neighbor's house
across the street had been activated, and when that light
comes on, it lights up the whole area. But as
I looked around, there was nothing at all to see.
(11:00):
Missed it and went on to hunt for the morning.
But three months later I saw a YouTube channel about
dog men and and I witnessed said one of these
things made a loud cracking sound when it stood up
on its hind legs, like the bones were shifting around. Now,
I'm not saying that's what it is for sure. But
I do know what I heard. I guess it's just
(11:22):
another mystery. If I never have any more weird stuff
like that happened, that'd be all right with me. My
story took place south of Bear Mountain in Laflora County.
My husband and I had a three year old and
we were tired of the hustle and bustle, so for
(11:44):
my birthday, he surprised me with an empty shell cabin
on the mountain. We both love the outdoors, and even
though I'm a little lady, I still like to go
hunting and hiking and any other outdoor activity to prove
I'm as good as the best of them. It was
fitting that my husband moved me to this beautiful mountain.
(12:05):
My husband drove a truck six months out of the year,
leaving me alone, but we both felt safe making the move.
Our cabin was finished in time for winter, which was
right around the corner. One day, my son and I
were home alone. It was about dusk but still nice
and warm outside. While my son played in the baby pool,
(12:28):
I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee
and I was enjoying myself. He and I always heard
things like knocking when we were outside, but we were
in the woods after all, and I have always been
open to anything new out there. As we were sitting there,
we heard a growling and then a laughter that was
(12:48):
no ordinary forest noise. So I went and got my ruger.
When I came back, my son was pointing to the
burn pile, saying, it's a boogeyman. I froze. There at
the burn pile stood four bigfoots. The mail was at
least eight feet tall. Next to him was a mother
and two younger ones. She was holding one of them
(13:11):
as she squatted next to the pile and gnawed on
an old ham bone. The other young one had his
hand on his mother's shoulder and staring at us in disbelief,
just like we were staring at him. The stench coming
off of them was so strong that I almost lost
my cookie, lost my cookies. Oh man, that's great, they
(13:34):
need a bath, my son blurted out. I burst out
laughing out of the mouths of bathes. As they say.
I never did raise my pistol, but the big guy
kept his eye on it, so he must have known
what it was. After that experience, I started leaving more
food out by the burn pile, nothing much, just scraps
(13:55):
from a hunt, or apples and things. We never saw
them again, but we'd hear them in the woods still,
and we knew that they got our gifts. Oddly enough,
they would leave us gifts in return. A stack of
rocks they built for us was still there when we
left the cabin years later. My son is thirty years
old now and my husband is gone. But I will
(14:18):
never forget my time on that enchanted mountain, even though
my son says he doesn't remember. I'm glad for the
time we had with our forest neighbors. And this email
is signed Nawana, which apparently means sunflower maybe in some
native tongue. Thank you Nanna for the for the nice story.
(14:38):
That was really great. Thank you, ma'am. Okay, that was
four brand news stories. I'm going to put one archive
here right after this. I'd have no idea what the
story's about. I looked at it to make sure the
edit was good, and I just stuck it in there.
So if you've already heard it, click away. If you
haven't stick around, listen to it. It's probably a pretty
decent story, and I really appreciate you. Guys. Clicking on
(15:03):
this video or listening to this podcast means a lot
to me, and I appreciate every one of you. Thank you.
My name is Bill and the stories I'm going to
relate can be considered a twofer. One is a UFO
story and the other is well, I don't know what
to call it. I have allowed myself to think it
(15:25):
was a screech owl or a bobcat, but my best
instinct says that it was something else, maybe a bigfoot.
We own property in southwest Arkansas that has been in
the family since the eighteen fifties. It was farmed until
my grandfather retired around nineteen sixty eight. After his death
(15:45):
in nineteen seventy two, my grandmother moved into town to
be near her children, but the farmhouse and the acreage
remained intact in the family. Half of the total acreage
is planted with pine trees, thanks to the USDA incentives
offered at the time. However, as the property is located
along the Gulf Coastal Plain, which marked the edge of
(16:08):
the Gulf Coast in prehistoric times, the sandy lone quality
of the soil is unfit to grow anything but cedar trees.
In fact, for many years families from our area harvested
their Christmas trees from our property. Now I say all
this because I spent much of my time growing up
on this land, and I know it well. Some years
(16:29):
ago I had decided to camp in this cedar covered
area over several weeks to determine the feasibility of building
an off gred cabin. The site was way off the
main road and way out of sight. This event occurred
on the first night that I camped there. It was
in April of two thousand and sixteen. Sometime after three am.
(16:53):
I woke for no apparent reason, and I sat up
in my cot. I looked around the tent, and I
saw that everything was ann oida And then I heard
four heavy wax or thuds on the ground very near
the tent. Imagine the sound if you hit the earth
with a baseball bad as hard as you could, only
it was much louder than that. Next there came a
(17:15):
scream unlike anything I've ever heard. Not only was it
so loud that it made my ear drums distort, but
it generated an immediate fear in me that I can
only describe as primal it wasn't like I felt like
I was in danger, but rather the scream produced an
authentic fear that I have never known. I imagined a
(17:37):
banshee mask I made in the third grade during a
study of myths and legends. The phrase she screamed like
a banshee came to mind. Had I heard a banshee?
Immediately after, I heard what could only be described as
bipedal steps running away from the ridge, And, in an
effort to rationalize it all, it was a screech owl
(18:01):
that produced the scream, and the flappings of its large
wingspan was what produced the sound of rapid footsteps. But
that explanation provides no rationale for what was thumping the ground. Now,
bobcats can scream, for sure, but that doesn't fit with
the other things I heard. I have come to terms
(18:21):
with the fact that whatever I experienced that night was
meant to inform me that I wasn't welcome there. Now.
I understand territorial mentality, but that's my family's land, so
if I decide to build there, we'll have to learn
to coexist with whatever that thing is. I know I
can gladly go the rest of my life without having
(18:42):
to hear that scream again though. Next is UFO related,
and it happened around the year two thousand on this
same property. Like many families who share land out and
the sticks, we would often gather over a weekend of
fish and cook out and mow grass, or just sit
around a bonfire and hang out. The farmhouse could get
(19:05):
a little crowded when bedtime rolled around, so my crew
would pitch a large tent in the back pasture. On
this night, I was snoozing inside the tent with my
middle school daughter when we both awoke to a fairly
loud sound. It was vaguely mechanical, like a turbocharger on
a semi pulling a load uphill, but big rigs don't
(19:27):
travel on our highway. Feeling a heavy drowsiness, I went
back to sleep, but when I woke again, the sound
was still there. My daughter was standing at the door
of the tent and she said, Dad, you need to
come see this. But I couldn't rouse myself from my
cozy dream state. You fathers who have daughters will understand this.
(19:49):
As a dad, there's absolutely nothing you won't do for
your daughter. On reflection, this should have been my first
indicator that something was going on. Why did I not
get up out of that sleeping bag and go look
at what my daughter wanted me to see. It almost
felt like the twilight sensation during an anesthesia procedure, just
(20:10):
before the doctor tells you to count backwards from one hundred.
When I woke the next morning, my daughter was safely
tucked inside her sleeping bag. All was well with the world.
But later that day she said, Dad, you really should
have seen that thing over the pond last night. Well
what did you see? I asked her. My daughter is
(20:31):
very observational and painted a vivid picture of what drew
her attention while I was dead to the world. The
sound we heard was coming from this thing that was
really moving slowly over our pond at about treetop level.
She said. I couldn't really make out the shape of it,
but it had two big red round lights at the
back of it. It moved over the pond and kept
(20:54):
going toward the north over the highway. As a point
of reference, the pond is fifty yards from the farmhouse
and where we were sleeping that night. I wondered if
that sound we heard had the hypnotic effect of neutralizing
me yet it didn't seem to affect my daughter in
the same way. I've heard of abduction stories, but she
(21:16):
had no recollection of anything other than watching the craft
ease its way to the north. She remembers getting back
in her sleeping bag and dozing off, but no one
in the house heard or saw anything unusual. Well, those
are my stories, and they're probably too long to use,
but I feel better for having written them down while
the details are still fresh in my mind. And I
(21:39):
think it's important to share our experiences in a safe environment.
It's not only therapeutic, but it builds a community that
we all desperately need during these strange times.
In August of nineteen seventy eight, just before the school
year started in Broward County, Florida, three friends and I
were playing kickball on our street. We lived ten miles
east of the Florida Everglades. During the game, one of
my friends kicked the ball between two houses. He went
to retrieve it, and when he came back, he came
(00:31):
back without the ball and with a look of dread
on his face. He told all of us that a
crazy man was standing in a big mango tree in
the back of one of our neighbors houses. The four
of us decided to walk back there together to see
what he was talking about, and when we approached, we
heard snorting and grunning. We all looked up into the
(00:52):
mango tree and saw a hairy man standing on one
of the big branches, and he was growling at us
and showing his teeth. He was only six feet tall.
He didn't fit the typical bigfoot description, but he was
covered in fur and all the wrong places, and he
scared the hell out of us. We all ran away screaming,
(01:13):
and we told one of our adult neighbors, who was
outside working on his car, what we had seen. All
He said to us was, Oh, you kids are just
imagining things. Go back to playing kickball. Later that night
we talked about what we saw. It looked like a
wild cave man with long, black, straggly hair and yellowish
(01:33):
teeth and bloodshot eyes. He was hairy, but he didn't
have hair covering his entire body like you hear about
in the usual bigfoot sightings. Maybe he was a Florida variety.
We never did talk about seeing that hairyman ever. Again. Hey, y'all,
(01:54):
welcome to the podcast. My name is Caam Buckner. This
is the Dixie Cryptid YouTube channel. I also do a
podcast called a what If It's True? Podcast? You can
find it on any podcast out and we don't have
memberships here on YouTube, no memberships. Everything is free. If
you don't like what you hear, I'll give you your
money back. I'll give you a full refund. How yack
(02:17):
at all? Right? I've got four or five stories in
this podcast I can't remember. I'll probably stick an archive
at the end. Hope you enjoy it all. Right, here
we go. We recently moved from the suburbs to a
rural area in southeast Texas. We have some neighbors, but
(02:38):
nobody's on top of us. Our neighbors have chickens and
cows and goats and horses. Well, we have eight dogs
and an eight foot privacy fence around our backyard. I
was outside with them one night and it was quiet
and peaceful, and we were all walking around the yard.
It was their last potty trip of the night. All
(02:59):
of a sudden, something snorted right outside the fence, like
when a dog is sniffing something and then blows their
out to clear their nose. And then it bellowed. It
was deep and loud and long. The sound vibrated in
my chest, and the bellow trailed off to a howl.
My blood ran cold and my heart stopped, and my
(03:21):
dogs all frozen their steps, and I screamed for everyone
to get in the house. And I've talked to hunters
and no one ever has an explanation. I've listened to
every animal sound on the internet. I can't find anything
like it. We have faral hogs and codies in the area,
and I've seen and heard them. Neither of them sounded
(03:43):
like what I heard. The neighborhood dogs have started disappearing
when we walk in the evening for exercise. We used
to have five dogs that followed us, but one by
one they've started disappearing with no explanation. All the chickens
are gone too. It used to be two flocks, and
now I won't let my dogs out alone, even with
(04:06):
an eight foot privacy fence. I don't go out after
dark except in my yard with my dogs, and I
try to limit that to once in evening. My husband
doesn't believe me, even though he saw how upset I
was the night that had happened. My sister thinks it's
a dog man, and I'm starting to think that she's right.
(04:27):
I'd love to hear what your listeners have to say.
I've been hunting and fishing since i was a young kid,
and I'm no stranger to the various critters roaming the woods.
It's swimming the waters all over Tennessee. I started fishing
and rabbit hunting around the age five with my grandfather.
(04:48):
I've seen it all, from ninety pound catfish to thirty
pound guards and everything in between. In nineteen eighty two,
my buddy and I had a fishing spot that we
could our bikes too. The spot was down on an
old farm road back through the crop land and cattle
pastures three miles from our houses off the paved road.
(05:10):
One day, we got to our fishing spots by midmorning,
and we got to it. The pond was an acre
in size. I was on one side and my buddy
was on the other, so we could face each other
while we were fishing. There was a fence line behind
my buddy, thick with briars and trees, with barbed wire
running the whole length. We'd only been there about half
(05:32):
an hour when I saw my friend running around the
edge of the pond, coming in my direction, looking like
he'd seen a ghost run, he said. He passed me,
jumped on his bike and took off, pedaling as fast
as he could. I'd never seen him act like that.
I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't
(05:53):
ask any questions. I jumped on my bike and followed
right after him. He had left his fishing gear behind
him was going as fast as he could. By the
time I caught up to him, he was already inside
my uncle's house on the phone with him, telling him
he needed to come home. My friend told him to
gather more adults and get their guns and go back
(06:16):
with him to the pond. After he hung up the phone,
I asked him what was wrong. He said that as
he was making a cast with his ride when his
lure hung on a branch behind him. When he turned
around to pull it off the branch, he saw a
ten foot tall monkey man covered in brown hair, standing
(06:36):
on the other side of the fence, and it was
staring at him. He said. His uncle told him not
to go back, and when he got off work, they
would go and get his fishing pole. It was several
weeks before we ever went back together, and when we did,
we had our shotguns with us. Years later, my wife
(06:57):
and I lived near a large bridge that went over
the ten Sea River. On one clear summer afternoon, we
decided to take a drive. We were going slow over
a bridge with no traffic behind us, and both of
us were looking out across the water. There was a
sailboat about a mile away, but no other boats that
(07:17):
we could see. Suddenly, a huge school of striped bass
started jumping in and out of the water. There must
have been two hundred of these fish. That was the
sight in and of itself, But it's what happened next
that still puzzles me till this day. Out of this
huge school of stripe bass came a massive gray serpent.
(07:41):
It was twisting and turning as it chased the jumping fish,
and it seemed to have schooled them up. It was
thirty feet long and it had no fins that I
could see. Instead of stopping the car and getting out
to watch, for some reason, I kept driving. I think
I was in shit. My wife saw it too, but
(08:02):
neither of us said a word as we watched it
for all of ten seconds. That doesn't sound long, but
it was long enough for me to get a good
look at it. It had scales the size of my fists,
and it was as stick as a semi truck tire.
This thing was massive. I didn't see its head or tail,
but some portions of its body were at least six
(08:25):
feet long coming out of the water as it swam around,
and I turned to my wife and I said, did
you see that? She looked at me and she said,
look like a giant snake. Turn around, turned around. When
we went back, it was gone. I reported it to
the local park ranger station that day, and the ranger
(08:45):
on duty wrote my story down with a funny look
on his face. I felt kind of strange telling him,
but I thought they should know about a thirty foot
lake serpent swimming in the waters, not far from a
huge marina full of boats and people. I asked my
wife some questions about what she had seen, because I
thought I might have been mistaken. But with every question
(09:08):
I asked her, she confirmed exactly what I had seen.
I remember trying to rationalize what I had seen with
something logical, like a tree floating in the water, an
overturned boatthule sticking up, or something like that. I've called
eels out of most every river system in Tennessee. They
(09:28):
have a slick skin similar to catfish, and they don't
have scales. But what we saw was larger than any
eel i'd ever seen. If it were a snake, it
was much bigger than those anacondas I've seen on the
nature channels, and being in Tennessee, I don't see how
one could survive and remain hidden being that size. In
(09:52):
October of twenty eighteen, I was loading my truck at
about three am to go archery hunting for whitetail. My
neighborhood at that time of night was stone cold, silent,
no wind, no noise, not even any of the neighbors
air conditioning units outside were running across the street maybe
(10:12):
fifty yards away. A house had a motion light at
the end of its driveway, and I've seen the light
triggered by deer that walk underneath it as they make
their way across the road and walk down a ditchbank
by my house. My hunting spot is only a quarter
mile away in the woods, and there are a bunch
of deer around that area. I was putting my bow
(10:36):
in the back of the truck and I heard a
cracking sound like someone cracking their knuckles, only louder. It
was so loud it startled me. I jerked around quickly,
and I saw the motion light on the neighbor's house
across the street had been activated, and when that light
comes on, it lights up the whole area. But as
I looked around, there was nothing at all to see.
(11:00):
Missed it and went on to hunt for the morning.
But three months later I saw a YouTube channel about
dog men and and I witnessed said one of these
things made a loud cracking sound when it stood up
on its hind legs, like the bones were shifting around. Now,
I'm not saying that's what it is for sure. But
I do know what I heard. I guess it's just
(11:22):
another mystery. If I never have any more weird stuff
like that happened, that'd be all right with me. My
story took place south of Bear Mountain in Laflora County.
My husband and I had a three year old and
we were tired of the hustle and bustle, so for
(11:44):
my birthday, he surprised me with an empty shell cabin
on the mountain. We both love the outdoors, and even
though I'm a little lady, I still like to go
hunting and hiking and any other outdoor activity to prove
I'm as good as the best of them. It was
fitting that my husband moved me to this beautiful mountain.
(12:05):
My husband drove a truck six months out of the year,
leaving me alone, but we both felt safe making the move.
Our cabin was finished in time for winter, which was
right around the corner. One day, my son and I
were home alone. It was about dusk but still nice
and warm outside. While my son played in the baby pool,
(12:28):
I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee
and I was enjoying myself. He and I always heard
things like knocking when we were outside, but we were
in the woods after all, and I have always been
open to anything new out there. As we were sitting there,
we heard a growling and then a laughter that was
(12:48):
no ordinary forest noise. So I went and got my ruger.
When I came back, my son was pointing to the
burn pile, saying, it's a boogeyman. I froze. There at
the burn pile stood four bigfoots. The mail was at
least eight feet tall. Next to him was a mother
and two younger ones. She was holding one of them
(13:11):
as she squatted next to the pile and gnawed on
an old ham bone. The other young one had his
hand on his mother's shoulder and staring at us in disbelief,
just like we were staring at him. The stench coming
off of them was so strong that I almost lost
my cookie, lost my cookies. Oh man, that's great, they
(13:34):
need a bath, my son blurted out. I burst out
laughing out of the mouths of bathes. As they say.
I never did raise my pistol, but the big guy
kept his eye on it, so he must have known
what it was. After that experience, I started leaving more
food out by the burn pile, nothing much, just scraps
(13:55):
from a hunt, or apples and things. We never saw
them again, but we'd hear them in the woods still,
and we knew that they got our gifts. Oddly enough,
they would leave us gifts in return. A stack of
rocks they built for us was still there when we
left the cabin years later. My son is thirty years
old now and my husband is gone. But I will
(14:18):
never forget my time on that enchanted mountain, even though
my son says he doesn't remember. I'm glad for the
time we had with our forest neighbors. And this email
is signed Nawana, which apparently means sunflower maybe in some
native tongue. Thank you Nanna for the for the nice story.
(14:38):
That was really great. Thank you, ma'am. Okay, that was
four brand news stories. I'm going to put one archive
here right after this. I'd have no idea what the
story's about. I looked at it to make sure the
edit was good, and I just stuck it in there.
So if you've already heard it, click away. If you
haven't stick around, listen to it. It's probably a pretty
decent story, and I really appreciate you. Guys. Clicking on
(15:03):
this video or listening to this podcast means a lot
to me, and I appreciate every one of you. Thank you.
My name is Bill and the stories I'm going to
relate can be considered a twofer. One is a UFO
story and the other is well, I don't know what
to call it. I have allowed myself to think it
(15:25):
was a screech owl or a bobcat, but my best
instinct says that it was something else, maybe a bigfoot.
We own property in southwest Arkansas that has been in
the family since the eighteen fifties. It was farmed until
my grandfather retired around nineteen sixty eight. After his death
(15:45):
in nineteen seventy two, my grandmother moved into town to
be near her children, but the farmhouse and the acreage
remained intact in the family. Half of the total acreage
is planted with pine trees, thanks to the USDA incentives
offered at the time. However, as the property is located
along the Gulf Coastal Plain, which marked the edge of
(16:08):
the Gulf Coast in prehistoric times, the sandy lone quality
of the soil is unfit to grow anything but cedar trees.
In fact, for many years families from our area harvested
their Christmas trees from our property. Now I say all
this because I spent much of my time growing up
on this land, and I know it well. Some years
(16:29):
ago I had decided to camp in this cedar covered
area over several weeks to determine the feasibility of building
an off gred cabin. The site was way off the
main road and way out of sight. This event occurred
on the first night that I camped there. It was
in April of two thousand and sixteen. Sometime after three am.
(16:53):
I woke for no apparent reason, and I sat up
in my cot. I looked around the tent, and I
saw that everything was ann oida And then I heard
four heavy wax or thuds on the ground very near
the tent. Imagine the sound if you hit the earth
with a baseball bad as hard as you could, only
it was much louder than that. Next there came a
(17:15):
scream unlike anything I've ever heard. Not only was it
so loud that it made my ear drums distort, but
it generated an immediate fear in me that I can
only describe as primal it wasn't like I felt like
I was in danger, but rather the scream produced an
authentic fear that I have never known. I imagined a
(17:37):
banshee mask I made in the third grade during a
study of myths and legends. The phrase she screamed like
a banshee came to mind. Had I heard a banshee?
Immediately after, I heard what could only be described as
bipedal steps running away from the ridge, And, in an
effort to rationalize it all, it was a screech owl
(18:01):
that produced the scream, and the flappings of its large
wingspan was what produced the sound of rapid footsteps. But
that explanation provides no rationale for what was thumping the ground. Now,
bobcats can scream, for sure, but that doesn't fit with
the other things I heard. I have come to terms
(18:21):
with the fact that whatever I experienced that night was
meant to inform me that I wasn't welcome there. Now.
I understand territorial mentality, but that's my family's land, so
if I decide to build there, we'll have to learn
to coexist with whatever that thing is. I know I
can gladly go the rest of my life without having
(18:42):
to hear that scream again though. Next is UFO related,
and it happened around the year two thousand on this
same property. Like many families who share land out and
the sticks, we would often gather over a weekend of
fish and cook out and mow grass, or just sit
around a bonfire and hang out. The farmhouse could get
(19:05):
a little crowded when bedtime rolled around, so my crew
would pitch a large tent in the back pasture. On
this night, I was snoozing inside the tent with my
middle school daughter when we both awoke to a fairly
loud sound. It was vaguely mechanical, like a turbocharger on
a semi pulling a load uphill, but big rigs don't
(19:27):
travel on our highway. Feeling a heavy drowsiness, I went
back to sleep, but when I woke again, the sound
was still there. My daughter was standing at the door
of the tent and she said, Dad, you need to
come see this. But I couldn't rouse myself from my
cozy dream state. You fathers who have daughters will understand this.
(19:49):
As a dad, there's absolutely nothing you won't do for
your daughter. On reflection, this should have been my first
indicator that something was going on. Why did I not
get up out of that sleeping bag and go look
at what my daughter wanted me to see. It almost
felt like the twilight sensation during an anesthesia procedure, just
(20:10):
before the doctor tells you to count backwards from one hundred.
When I woke the next morning, my daughter was safely
tucked inside her sleeping bag. All was well with the world.
But later that day she said, Dad, you really should
have seen that thing over the pond last night. Well
what did you see? I asked her. My daughter is
(20:31):
very observational and painted a vivid picture of what drew
her attention while I was dead to the world. The
sound we heard was coming from this thing that was
really moving slowly over our pond at about treetop level.
She said. I couldn't really make out the shape of it,
but it had two big red round lights at the
back of it. It moved over the pond and kept
(20:54):
going toward the north over the highway. As a point
of reference, the pond is fifty yards from the farmhouse
and where we were sleeping that night. I wondered if
that sound we heard had the hypnotic effect of neutralizing
me yet it didn't seem to affect my daughter in
the same way. I've heard of abduction stories, but she
(21:16):
had no recollection of anything other than watching the craft
ease its way to the north. She remembers getting back
in her sleeping bag and dozing off, but no one
in the house heard or saw anything unusual. Well, those
are my stories, and they're probably too long to use,
but I feel better for having written them down while
the details are still fresh in my mind. And I
(21:39):
think it's important to share our experiences in a safe environment.
It's not only therapeutic, but it builds a community that
we all desperately need during these strange times.
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