SO EP:658 Bigfoot Encounters from America's Midwest

Tonight, we head into the Midwest—where cornfields meet deep forests, and something on two legs walks where it shouldn’t exist. From Illinois’ Big Muddy Monster and the Cole Hollow Road Monster, to Michigan’s Dogman and countless Bigfoot sightings, the heartland has proven just as strange as any swamp or mountain.We’ll revisit the chilling Beast of Bray Road, the eerie Van Meter Visitor with its glowing horn, and the Lockridge Monster’s unsettling appetite.

From Wendigo legends in Minnesota to a Missouri sheriff’s secret 1998 encounter in the Mark Twain National Forest, the stories are as bizarre as they are unforgettable.Along the way, we examine the physical evidence, the role of new technologies like eDNA, and the lasting impact these encounters have on communities.

Are these creatures real, misunderstood, or something else entirely? One thing is certain: somewhere in the Midwest tonight, something is walking through the fields and forests—and it doesn’t match anything science can explain.


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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Now one of your pudding. I got a string going
on here, something just because my dog. Something killed your dog,
my dog. We're flying through the air over the tree.
I don't know how it did it, Okay, Damn, I'm
really confused. All I saw was my dog coming over
the fence and he was dead. And once you hit
the ground like, I didn't see any cars. All I
saw was my dog coming over the fence. Sat what

(00:38):
are you putting? We got some wonder or something crawling
around out here? Did you see what it was? Or
was it was? Standing enough? I'm out here looking through
the window now and I don't see anything. I don't
want to go outside. Jesus Quice, you better hello, get

(01:03):
the Boddy out here. Quin On out there? I thought
of Avena about tex forty nine. I don't know easy
out there, Yeah, I'm walking right head.

Speaker 2 (01:12):
The crackling of the campfire couldn't mask the sound that
made every hair on the back of my neck stand up.
It was a howl, no more like a scream, but
not quite human, not quite animal either, something in between,
something that shouldn't exist in the cornfields of Iowa, the
forests of Michigan, or anywhere in what we call civilization.

(01:35):
Last week, I took you deep into the southern United States,
where we explored the humid swamps of Louisiana, the pine
forests of Arkansas, and the mysterious hollows of Tennessee. We
heard countless encounters that have terrified and fascinated generations of Southerners.
The feedback from that episode was incredible, your stories, your experiences,

(01:56):
your own close encounters that you've kept secret for years.
But tonight we're heading north. Tonight, We're venturing into the
heartland of America, where amber waves of grain meet ancient forests,
where great lakes harbor secrets as deep as their waters,
and where something walks on two legs through the shadows

(02:16):
of the Midwest. You might think that states like Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa,
and Missouri would be too civilized, too agricultural, too normal
for creatures of legend. You'd be wrong, dead wrong, because
what I've discovered in my research, what witnesses have reported
for over a century, will challenge everything you thought you

(02:37):
knew about what lurks in America's mid section. The Midwest
might not have the vast wilderness of the Pacific northwest,
or the impenetrable swamps of the south. But it has
something else. A patchwork of forests, river valleys, abandoned quarries,
and vast stretches of farmland where a creature could move
unseen for miles, where the edge of civilization meets the wild,

(03:01):
where ordinary people have extraordinary encounters that change their lives forever.
So dim the lights, settle in, and prepare yourself. These
are documented encounters, police reports, and testimonies from credible witnesses
who saw something they can't explain, something that shouldn't exist,
something that might be watching you right now from the

(03:23):
tree line at the edge of your property. Long before
European settlers carved farms from the forests, before the first
railroad track was laid across the prairie, the indigenous peoples
of the Midwest knew that something else shared their lands.
The Ojibwe called them wind to Go, describing cannibalistic giants
that haunted the northern forests. The Pottawatamie also spoke of

(03:46):
the wind to Go as well, but their stories differed.
These were hairy wild men who lived in the deepest
parts of the forest, avoiding human contact unless provoked. The
Dakota and Lakota had their own names for these beings.
They spoke of giants that walked like men, covered in hair,
with eyes that glowed in the darkness. These weren't just

(04:08):
stories to frighten children. They were warnings passed down through
generations about real encounters with real creatures. According to Ojibwe tradition,
particularly strong around the Great Lakes region, these beings were
once human but had been transformed through dark magic or
cursed for committing the ultimate taboo, cannibalism. They became something

(04:30):
between human and beast, Forever hungry, forever searching. The elders
warned that even speaking of them too often could draw
their attention. The Algonquin nations that stretched across what is
now Michigan, Wisconsin, and into Canada had perhaps the most
detailed accounts. They described creatures they called with tiko, massive

(04:51):
hair covered beings that could move through the forest without
making a sound despite their enormous size. They left tracks
in the snow during winter that were three times the
size of a man's foot, and their howls could freeze
the blood of the bravest warrior. In southern Illinois and Missouri,
the indigenous peoples told of similar creatures. The Illinois Confederation

(05:13):
spoke of wild men who lived along the Mississippi River bluffs,
emerging at night to fish with their bare hands. They
were said to be incredibly strong, able to uproot trees
and throw boulders with ease. The tribes generally avoided certain
areas known to be the territory of these beings, understanding
that coexistence meant respecting boundaries. What's fascinating about these indigenous

(05:38):
accounts is their consistency. Despite the geographic spread from Minnesota
to Missouri, from Michigan to Iowa, the descriptions remained remarkably similar.
Bipedal covered in hair, enormously strong, usually solitary, and possessed
of an intelligence that was almost human, but not quite.

(05:58):
They were part of the natural world, but existed on
its margins in the places where humans rarely ventured. The
Monominy of Wisconsin had particularly detailed protocols for dealing with
these creatures. They believed that leaving offerings of food at
the edge of the forest could keep the peace. Tobacco
was especially valued as an offering, and there are accounts

(06:19):
from the eighteen hundreds of European traders, noting how indigenous
guides would leave tobacco bundles in certain locations, refusing to
explain why, beyond saying it was for the old ones
of the forest. These weren't myths in the way we
understand mythology today. For the indigenous peoples of the Midwest,
these beings were as real as bears or wolves, dangerous

(06:42):
if provoked, but generally avoidable if one knew the proper precautions.
They were part of the ecosystem, another species sharing the land,
albeit one that blurred the line between human and animal
in disturbing ways. When European settlers began arriving in larger
numbers in the early eighteen hundreds, they initially dismissed these

(07:02):
stories as primitive superstitions, but it didn't take long before
they started having their own encounters. Farmers clearing land for
fields would find enormous footprints. Hunters would report seeing hairy
figures walking upright through the forest. Children would go missing
near certain woods, and when they returned, if they returned,

(07:23):
they spoke of hairy giants who watched them from the shadows.
The collision of European settlement with these ancient inhabitants of
the Midwest would lead to some of the most compelling
and terrifying encounters in American cryptozoological history. Because while the
indigenous peoples had learned to coexist with these creatures over millennia,
the new settlers were entering territory they didn't understand, breaking

(07:46):
rules they didn't know existed. Illinois might seem an unlikely
hotspot for sasquatch activity. It's a state known for corn, Chicago,
and Lincoln, not mysterious cryptids, but Illinois holds a dark,
dark's secret. It ranks fourth in the nation for bigfoot
sidings according to the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization. The earliest

(08:08):
documented sighting dates back to eighteen eighty two in Decatur,
but the real wave of encounters began in the nineteen seventies,
a decade that would forever change how Illinoisans viewed their
forests and farmlands. June twenty fifth, nineteen seventy three, started
like any other summer night in Murphysboro, Illinois. The small

(08:28):
town of eight thousand souls nestled along the Big Muddy River,
was quiet, peaceful, But just after midnight everything changed. Randy
Needham and Judy Johnson were parked in Needham's car at
Riverside Park on the southwest edge of town. They were
enjoying a quiet moment together when a horrific smell invaded
the vehicle, a stench like rotting flesh mixed with sulfur

(08:51):
and wet dog. Then they heard it, a shriek that
was neither human nor animal, something that came from the
very depths of Nightmare. In the dim light, they saw
it approaching the car, seven feet tall, maybe eight covered
in matted white hair caked with mud from the big
muddy River. Its eyes glowed red in the darkness, and

(09:12):
when it opened its mouth they could see yellow teeth
that looked far too human for comfort. The creature moved
with a strange, loping gait, covering ground faster than seemed
possible for something so large. Needham didn't wait to see
what it wanted. He started the car and floored it,
kicking up gravel as they fled. But here's where the
story takes an interesting turn. They didn't just run home

(09:36):
and hide, despite the personal complications see Johnson was married,
but not to need him. They went straight to the
Murphysboro Police Department to file a report. Officer James Nash
was skeptical at first, but he knew Needham and Johnson
weren't the types to make up stories. He drove out
to Riverside Park to investigate. What he found changed his

(09:58):
mind about a lot of things. There in the mud
along the river bank were footprints, massive footprints, easily twelve
inches long and five inches wide, with only three toes visible.
The stride between prints suggested something with legs much longer
than a human's, But it was what happened next that
made Nash a believer. As he examined the tracks, following

(10:20):
them along the muddy bank, he heard it, the most
incredible shriek he'd ever encountered. It came from the bushes
no more than fifty feet away. Nash, a trained police officer,
did what any sensible person would do. He high tailed
it out of there and called for back up. The
next night, June twenty sixth, the creature made another appearance.

(10:42):
This time it was spotted by Sheryl Ray and Randy Creith,
who were sitting on her back porch. The creature emerged
from the bushes about fifteen feet away. Ray would later
describe it in chilling detail. It was real tall, hairy.
I think it was white, but it was dirty matted.
It had a real bad odor. It was really rank.

(11:05):
I never smelled anything like it. It seemed like an eternity.
We stood there, and then it just turned around and
walked off into the woods. The Murphy's Borough Police Department
was flooded with over two hundred calls over the next
few days. Officers Jerry Nellis brought in a German shepherd
trained in tracking. The dog picked up the scent immediately
and followed it eagerly through the underbrush. The trail led

(11:28):
to an abandoned barn on the outskirts of town. But
when they reached the barn, something extraordinary happened. This dog,
trained to face dangerous criminals, a dog that had never
backed down from anything, refused to enter. When officers tried
to push it inside, it turned and ran tail between
its legs, whimpering in terror. The officers, showing more courage

(11:52):
or perhaps less sense, than the dog, entered the barn
with weapons drawn. They found nothing but the smell lingered,
that horrible mixture of decay and sulfur that witnesses would
describe again and again. The encounters continued through July. On
July fourth, carnival workers setting up for the Independence Day
celebration at Riverside Park reported seeing the creature near the

(12:16):
tree line. On July seventh, two Murphy's Borough men spotted
what they believed was the big Muddy Monster near a
pond in the Harrison community north of Murphy's Borough. Perhaps
the most harrowing encounter came from four year old Christian Barrel,
who was playing in his backyard when something grabbed him.
His parents found him sobbing with scratches on his body,

(12:38):
babbling about a big, hairy monster that had tried to
take him into the woods. The scratches were real, three
parallel marks that looked like claw marks, but were spaced
too far apart to be from any known animal. The
scientific community took notice. Lauren Coleman, one of the world's
foremost cryptozoologists, traveled to Murphy's Borough to investigate. He interviewed

(13:01):
dozens of witnesses and examined the physical evidence. His conclusion
was startling. There's something very unique about this Eastern Midwestern bigfoot.
From the reports of the mud Monster, it seemed to
frighten people in a way. It didn't in the West,
but Murphy's Borough wasn't the only Illinois town to experience
a cryptid invasion in the nineteen seventies. In May nineteen

(13:23):
seventy two, just a year before the mud Monster appearances,
the towns of Pekin and Peoria were dealing with their
own mysterious visitor. Randy Emmer, just eighteen years old, and
his friends were driving along Coal Hollow Road on the
evening of May twenty fourth when they saw something that
would spark one of the largest monster hunts in Illinois history. There,

(13:44):
illuminated in their headlights stood a creature unlike anything they'd
ever seen. It was massive. Witnesses would later estimate it
at eight to nine feet tall, covered in whitish gray
hair that looked like it hadn't been groomed in centuries.
Its face was a disturbing mix of human and ape features,
with long, round ears and bright red lips that stood

(14:05):
out against its pale fur. What struck emmert most were
its hands. They were human like, but the thumbs were
double jointed and set lower than they should be, and
each finger ended in a long curved claw. When the
creature turned to look at them, its eyes reflected the
headlight beams with an eerie yellow glow. The creature didn't

(14:25):
run when it saw them. Instead, it stood there for
a moment, studying them with an intelligence that was deeply unsettling,
then moving with surprising grace for something so large. It
turned and walked, not ran, walked into the nearby woods,
disappearing into the shadows. Emmert and his friends didn't immediately

(14:47):
report what they'd seen. They were teenagers who would believe them,
But word got out, as word always does in small towns.
Other people started coming forward with their own sightings and
stay tuned for more sasquatch Ott to see.

Speaker 1 (15:02):
We'll be right back.

Speaker 2 (15:03):
After these messages, a farmer reported that something had destroyed
his fence, not knocked it down, but literally torn it apart,
leaving the wooden posts splintered like match sticks. A woman
called the police to report a white, hairy giant peering
through her bedroom window at two in the morning on

(15:25):
May twenty fifth, nineteen seventy two. The East Peoria Police
Department logged more than two hundred calls from witnesses claiming
to have seen the creature. The calls came from all
over the area. People seeing it walking through woods, crossing roads,
even rummaging through garbage cans behind restaurants. The descriptions were
remarkably consistent. Tall, covered in white or gray hair, walking upright,

(15:50):
and giving off a terrible smell. The police were overwhelmed.
They didn't know how to respond to unknown creature reports.
This wasn't covered in their training, but as the call
kept coming, they realized they had to do something. A
search party was organized on July tenth, nineteen seventy two.
Over one hundred volunteers gathered to search the woods around

(16:11):
Coal Hollow Road. They were armed with everything from hunting
rifles to cameras, determined to either capture or kill whatever
was terrorizing their community. The search had barely begun when
disaster struck. One of the volunteers accidentally shot himself in
the foot with his own gun. The injury wasn't life threatening,
but it was serious enough that the search had to

(16:33):
be called off while emergency services responded. The Coal Hollow
Road Monster, or Cohomo, as locals began calling it, continued
to be sighted throughout the summer of nineteen seventy two.
On July twenty fifth, a witness reported seeing the creature
swimming in the Illinois River. They described watching in amazement
as it moved through the water with powerful strokes, its

(16:55):
white hair plastered to its body, looking like a cross
between an abas and a caveman. The last major sighting
occurred on July twenty eighth, when a woman reported seeing
the creature near an abandoned coal mine. She was driving
home from work when she saw it standing at the
mine entrance, silhouetted against the evening sky. She described feeling

(17:16):
an overwhelming sense of dread, as if the creature was
warning her to stay away. Years later, Randy Emmeret would
make a shocking confession in an interview with a local newspaper.
He admitted that he and his friends had never actually
seen anything that night on Coal Hollow Road. It had
all been a prank, a joke that got out of hand.

(17:37):
But here's where things get interesting. Even after Emmert's confession,
the sightings continued. People who had never heard of Emmert
or his prank were still reporting encounters with a large,
white haired creature in the woods around Pekin and Peoria, Michigan,
with its two peninsulas surrounded by the Great Lakes, Its
vast forests and its long dark winters has produced some

(17:58):
of the most terrifying and bizarre cryptid encounters in North
American history. It's a state where not one but two
major cryptids are said to rome, the classic Bigfoot and
the terrifying Michigan dog Man. The Upper Peninsula of Michigan
is a world apart, separated from the rest of the
state by the Straits of Mackinac. The Up, as locals

(18:19):
call it, is a land of deep forests, hidden lakes,
and small towns, separated by miles of wilderness. It's here
in Schoolcraft County that Michigan has recorded its highest concentration
of Bigfoot sightings. The Sieni National Wildlife Refuge, a ninety
five thousand acre wilderness of wetlands and forests, has become

(18:40):
synonymous with sasquatch encounters. The area is so active that
locals have a saying, if you want to see a bear,
go to Sceini. If you want to see something else,
go to Seeny at Night. One of the most chilling
accounts from Sieni came from a woman named Sarah, who
was driving along the notorious Sceni Stretch, a twenty five

(19:01):
mile section of straight highway cutting through the wilderness in
nineteen ninety seven. It was past midnight and her infant
daughter was crying in the back seat. Exhausted from a
long drive, Sarah pulled over to nurse the baby and
maybe catch a few minutes of sleep. She had just
dozed off when something made her open her eyes. There
pressed against the driver's side window was a face, but

(19:25):
not a human face. It was covered in dark brown hair,
with deep set eyes that reflected the moonlight. The creature
was examining her baby with an intensity that sent ice
through Sarah's veins. She described the look as curious, almost tender,
but alien. Sarah did what any mother would do. She screamed.

(19:45):
The creature jerked back, and she got a full view
of it standing beside her car. It was massive, at
least seven feet tall, with shoulders broader than any humans.
For a moment that felt like hours, they stared at
each other. Then the creature placed one enormous hand on
the hood of her car. She could hear the metal
groan under the weight, and vaulted over the vehicle in

(20:07):
one smooth motion, disappearing into the forest. When Sarah reported
the encounter to local authorities. She was surprised by their response.
Instead of skepticism, she got knowing nods. One officer told her,
You're not the first, and you won't be the last
that stretch of road. Things happen there. But Bigfoot isn't

(20:28):
the only cryptid stalking Michigan's forests. In eighteen eighty seven,
two lumberjacks in Wexford County reported encountering something that would
haunt Michigan for the next century and beyond, the Michigan
dog Man. The creature was described as having the body
of a man but the head of a dog or wolf.
It stood seven feet tall, walked on two legs, and

(20:50):
had blue or amber eyes that seemed to glow with
an inner light. Its howl was said to sound like
a human scream mixed with a wolf's howl, a sound
that once heard, could never be forgotten. The dog man
legend lay relatively dormant until nineteen eighty seven, exactly one
hundred years after the first sighting. Steve Cook, a DJ

(21:12):
at WTCMFM and Traverse City, created a song called the
Legend as an April fool's joke. The song detailed various
dog men encounters throughout Michigan's history, set to a haunting melody.
Cook expected a few laughs and then for people to
move on. Instead, the station was flooded with calls, not

(21:33):
from people laughing at the joke, but from people saying,
I've seen it too. The stories poured in, Hunters who
had encountered something that walked like a man but had
the head of a wolf, drivers who had hit something
that left fur in their grill but no body on
the road, Campers who had been stalked by something that
moved between two legs and four with unsettling ease. One

(21:55):
of the most terrifying accounts came from a truck driver
named Joe Barger in twenty seventeen, fitting the supposed pattern
of the dog Man appearing in years ending in seven.
Barger was driving through the Manistee National Forest when something
emerged from the woods and began running alongside his truck.
At first, he thought it was a bear. Then he
realized it was running on two legs, keeping pace with

(22:17):
his truck at forty five miles per hour. When it
turned to look at him, he saw its face clearly
in the cab lights, elongated like a dog's with three
inch fangs and yellow eyes that seemed to bore into
his soul. The creature reached for his open window with
hands that were almost human but ended in claws. Bargar
grabbed his handgun and fired several shots. He claimed to

(22:40):
have hit the creature at least once, seeing it stumble,
but it kept coming. Only when he accelerated to nearly
seventy miles per hour did the creature fall back, disappearing
into the darkness. When he finally stopped at a rest area,
he found claw marks on his truck door and tufts
of gray fur caught in the window seal. Wisconsin, America's dairyland,

(23:02):
might be better known for cheese and the Green Bay
Packers than cryptids, but the state has a rich history
of mysterious encounters that rivals any location in North America.
The most famous is undoubtedly the Beast of Bray Road,
but Wisconsin's vast northern forest have produced countless Bigfoot sightings
that paint a picture of a state where the line

(23:22):
between civilization and the wild remains remarkably thin. Bray Road
is a rural stretch of asphalt running through Walworth County
near the town of Elcorn. It's the kind of road
you might drive down one hundred times without giving it
a second thought until you know its history. Then every
shadow becomes suspicious, every rustle in the corn something more

(23:44):
than wind. The modern legend of the Beast of Bray
Road began in nineteen eighty nine, though locals whisper about
encounters going back to the nineteen thirties. Lori Andreasy was
driving home from her job at a bar in Elcorn
around one point thirty in the more when she saw
what she initially thought was a person kneeling by the roadside.
As her car approached, the figure stood up and and

(24:07):
Dreazi realized this was no human. It stood nearly seven
feet tall, covered in brown gray fur, with a face
that was elongated like a wolf's, but with disturbing human qualities.
Its arms were muscular and ended in hands with claws,
but it was the eyes that haunted her. Yellow, intelligent,
and filled with what she could only describe as malevolence.

(24:31):
It was kneeling, she would later tell journalist Linda Godfrey.
Its elbows were up and its claws were facing out,
so I knew it had claws. I remember the long
claws the creature was holding something between those claws roadkill,
she thought, though she didn't slow down to investigate. The
encounter lasted only seconds, but it changed and Dresey's life.

(24:55):
She became withdrawn, afraid to drive at night, constantly checking
her rear view mirror. When she finally worked up the
courage to report what she'd seen, she was surprised to
find she wasn't alone. Perhaps the most dramatic encounter occurred
in nineteen ninety nine, when eighteen year old Doristein Gibson
was driving along Bray Road near the intersection with Hospital Road.

(25:18):
She felt her car hit something, lifting the right side
of the vehicle as if rolling over a large object.
She stopped and got out to investigate, a decision she
would immediately regret. From the darkness, something approached her. It
was massive, covered in fur and moving on two legs,
with a loping gait that covered ground frighteningly fast. Gibson

(25:39):
jumped back in her car and started it, but as
she pulled away, the creature leaped onto her trunk. She
could hear its claws scraping against the metal as it
tried to find purchase. The wet road from recent rain
was her salvation. The creature couldn't maintain its grip and
slid off. While the Beast of Bray Road might get
the headlines. Wisconsin, Marinette County holds the distinction of having

(26:02):
more Bigfoot sightings per capita than anywhere else in the state.
Located in the northeastern corner of Wisconsin, Marinette County is
a land of dense forests, winding rivers, and a sparse
human population, perfect habitat for a creature that doesn't want
to be found. The encounters here differ from the aggressive
Beast of Bray Road. The Marinette County bigfoot seems more

(26:25):
curious than hostile, though no less terrifying when encountered unexpectedly.
In July twenty eighteen, a retired police officer with thirty
years of experience had an encounter that he said challenged
everything he thought he knew about the natural world. He
was driving along Highway one forty one near Pembine when
something crossed the road in front of him. His trained

(26:47):
eye immediately began cataloging details. Approximately seven to eight feet tall,
covered in dark brown or black hair, bipedal locomotion, massive
shoulders and arms. The creature crossed the four lace lane
highway in just three strides, each step covering an impossible
amount of ground. What struck him most was the way

(27:07):
it moved, fluid, graceful, with no wasted motion. I've seen bears,
I've seen drunk people and costumes on Halloween. I've seen hoaxes,
he later told investigators. This was none of those things.
This was a living, breathing animal that shouldn't exist. Minnesota,
the Land of ten Thousand Lakes, is also the land

(27:28):
of ten thousand mysteries. From the dense forests of the
Boundary Waters to the river valleys of the South, Minnesota
has a long history of encounters with creatures that defy explanation.
But here in the northernmost reaches of the Midwest, the
legends take on a darker tone. The Wendigo of Ojibwe
legend isn't just a mysterious animal, It's something far more terrifying.

(27:51):
The Windigo legend is fundamentally different from typical bigfoot encounters.
According to indigenous tradition, the windigo was once human, a
person who committed the ultimate taboo of cannibalism, and was
transformed into a monster as punishment. It's described as gaunt
to the point of emaciation, with yellowed fangs, sunken eyes,

(28:12):
and an insatiable hunger for human flesh. But over the years,
the Windigo legend has merged with big foot sightings in Minnesota,
creating a unique narrative where witnesses aren't sure if they've
encountered a natural creature or something supernatural. In the winter
of nineteen o eight, near the White Earth Ojibwey Reservation,
two berry pickers reported being chased from the forest by

(28:35):
what they called a wild man. The footprints it left
were sixteen inches long and showed dermal ridges when cast
in plaster, details that would seem to indicate a flesh
and blood creature rather than a spirit, But the berry
pickers insisted that the creature had spoken to them in
a jibway, warning them to leave and never return. The

(28:55):
small town of Raamer, population less than four hundred, has
embraced it it's Bigfoot heritage like no other Minnesota community.
The town's connection to Sasquatch goes back to the logging
boom of the late eighteen hundreds, when the Virgin pine
forests were being harvested at an unprecedented rate. Loggers at
the Freemen and Gray's logging camp began reporting encounters with

(29:17):
what they called the old men of the Forest as
early as eighteen ninety five. These weren't isolated incidents. Entire
logging crews would report seeing the creatures watching them from ridgelines,
always maintaining a safe distance, but clearly observing the human activity.
What made the Rammer encounters unique was their frequency and consistency.

(29:39):
By nineteen ten, sightings had become so common that local
newspapers stopped reporting on them. They were no longer news,
just a fact of life. In Ramar residents would find
footprints in their gardens, discover carefully stacked piles of stones
in the forest, a behavior reported in bigfoot encounters worldwide,
and occasionally catch glimpses of dark figures moving through the

(30:01):
trees at twilight, and stay tuned for more sasquatch otta see,
We'll be right back. After these messages, the creatures seemed
particularly interested in children. There are dozens of accounts from
the early nineteen hundreds of children playing in the woods
and reporting that harry giants watched them play, sometimes for hours.

(30:25):
The children were never harmed. In fact, several accounts described
the creatures helping lost children find their way home, though
always from a distance, never making direct contact. One particularly
intriguing account from nineteen twenty three involved the Lindstrom family's
eight year old daughter, Marie. She had been playing near
the family's cabin when she became lost in a sudden snowstorm.

(30:49):
The family searched frantically, fearing the worst. After three hours,
Marie walked out of the forest, calm and unharmed. She
said a big, hairy man had led her to a
cave where she stayed warm, and when the storm passed,
he pointed her toward home. She was carrying a handful
of winter green berries, impossible to find in the snow

(31:09):
unless you knew exactly where to look. Iowa might not
be the first state you think of when it comes
to cryptid encounters, but the Hawkeye State has a surprisingly
rich history of mysterious sightings, from the bizarre Van Meter
visitor of nineteen o three to the more recent Lockridge Monster,
Iowa's creatures seemed to have a particular fondness for small

(31:30):
farming communities. In the autumn of nineteen o three, the
small town of Van Meder, Iowa, experienced five nights of
terror that would become one of the strangest chapters in
American cryptozoology. What made the Van Meter Visitor unique wasn't
just its appearance, though that was bizarre enough, but the
number of credible witnesses who saw it. It began on

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September twenty ninth, when U. G. Griffith, a local businessman
and one of Van Meter's most respected citizens, saw a
strange light hopping from rooftop to rooftop along Main Street.
When he approached for a closer look, he was confronted
by a creature that defied explanation. It stood over eight
feet tall, with smooth, leather like wings spanning at least

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ten feet. Its head bore a horn that emitted a
blinding light, and the stench that accompanied it was overwhelming,
sulfur mixed with decay. The next night, doctor Alcott, the
town physician, was awakened by a bright light shining through
his window. He grabbed his revolver and fired at the
source of the light. He heard what sounded like a

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scream of pain, but the creature, for creature, it was,
seemed unharmed. It stood outside his window, that horn blazing
with light before spreading its wings and flying away. By
the third night, the town was in a panic. Bank
cashier O. V. White spotted the creature perched on the
town's bank building. He fired his shotgun at it, claiming

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to have hit it directly, but the bullet seemed to
have no effect. The creature studied him with what he
described as malevolent intelligence before flying away. On October third,
the town had had enough. A posse of armed men,
led by the mayor himself, tracked the creature to an
abandoned coal mine on the outskirts of town. What they

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saw there would haunt them for the rest of their lives.
Not one, but two creatures emerged from the mine, a
larger one matching the previous descriptions and a smaller one,
possibly its offspring. The men opened fire, but as before,
the bullets had no effect. The creatures stood their ground,
that terrible horn light blazing, before retreating back into the mine.

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The townspeople, terrified but desperate, sealed the mine entrance with
boards and concrete, hoping to trap whatever was inside. The
van meter visitor was never seen again, but the mine
remains sealed to this day. Fast forward to October nineteen
seventy five and another small Iowa town found itself dealing
with an unexpected visit. Lockridge, population three hundred, is the

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kind of place where everyone knows everyone, where doors are
left unlocked, and where the appearance of a bigfoot like
creature caused a sensation that reverberates to this day. It
began when turkey farmer Herb Peefer was checking on his
birds one evening in his tractor's headlights. He saw something
at the edge of the woods that made him question
his sanity. It was approximately five feet tall, shorter than

(34:28):
typical bigfoot reports, covered in dark, shaggy fur, walking upright
with a slightly hunched posture. Its face was described as
a disturbing mix of human and ape features. What set
the Lockridge monster apart from typical bigfoot sidings was its
apparent carnivorous nature. Four partially devoured turkeys were found near

(34:49):
tracks that didn't match any known animal. The footprints were
humanoid but smaller than typical bigfoot prints, leading some researchers
to speculate that Lockridge might have been dealing with the
juvenile sasquatch or possibly a different species. Entirely Missouri, where
the Midwest meets the South has produced some of the
most credible bigfoot encounters in the country, largely because many

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come from law enforcement officers trained observers who have everything
to lose and nothing to gain from reporting such encounters.
In nineteen ninety eight, a county sheriff in Missouri who
has requested anonymity even in retirement, had an encounter that
he kept secret for over twenty years. He was patrolling
a remote road in the Mark Twain National Forest near

(35:33):
the Little Indian Creek Conservation area southwest of Saint Louis
when his life changed forever. It was approximately two in
the morning on a foggy April night. The sheriff noticed
a movement in his peripheral vision and assumed it was
a deer. He slowed down and activated his spotlight, a
routine action he'd performed thousands of times. But what the

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light illuminated was no deer. Standing at the edge of
the road was a creature, he estimated at eight to
nine feet tall, covered in dark brown or black hair.
Its eyes reflected the spotlight with an orange red glow.
But it was the face that haunted him. Almost human
in its features, but wrong in every way that mattered.
The proportions were off, the jaw too large, the brow

(36:18):
too heavy. It was looking right at me, he later recounted,
not at the car, at me through the windshield, right
into my eyes, and I could see intelligence there. It
knew what I was, and it was deciding what to
do about me. For about twenty five to thirty seconds,
they stared at each other. Then the creature turned and walked,

(36:39):
not ran, into the forest, each stride covering an impossible
amount of ground. The sheriff sat in his patrol car, shaking,
trying to process what he'd seen. He thought about calling
it in, but stopped. What would he say that he'd
seen bigfoot? His career would be over, so he kept quiet,

(36:59):
telling only his wife, and even then only years later.
It wasn't until his retirement that he felt safe enough
to share his encounter with researchers. You're being told all
these years that Bigfoot doesn't exist, he said, and then
this thing walks right out in front of you. It
changes everything. I was an avid hunter, been in the

(37:20):
woods my whole life. After that night, I found it
hard to go back. How do you defend yourself against
something like that? The Bigfoot? Field Researchers organization lists one
hundred and forty seven reports from Missouri, making it one
of the more active states in the Midwest. Many of
these reports come from the Ozark region, where the rugged

(37:41):
terrain and extensive forest coverage provide ideal habitat for a
large elusive primate. In twenty twelve, a group of college
students from Missouri State University had an encounter near Smithville
Lake that typified modern bigfoot sightings. They were at a
game access area late at night when everything went eerily quiet.

(38:01):
No insects, no birds, no wind in the trees. One
of the students, Cody, described it. I've seen bears, I've
seen mountain lions, I've seen bobcats. I've never experienced silence
like that. It was like the entire forest was holding
its breath. Then came the smell, that distinctive mixture of
wet dog, skunk, and something worse. They heard bipedal footsteps

(38:25):
circling their jeep, and when they shown their flashlights out,
they saw eyeshine at a height that ruled out any
known Missouri wildlife. They left immediately and didn't stop driving
until they reached a populated area as We've journeyed through
the Midwest cryptid encounters, from the cornfields of Iowa to
the forests of Michigan. It's important to address both the

(38:45):
scientific investigations into these phenomena and the skepticism that rightfully
accompanies such extraordinary claims. Despite thousands of reported sightings across
the Midwest, physical evidence remains frustratingly elusive. However, what evidence
does exist is compelling enough to have attracted serious scientific attention.

(39:06):
Footprint casts from across the region show remarkable consistency. Doctor
Jeffrey Meldrum, who has examined dozens of casts from Midwest encounters,
points out several anatomical features that would be difficult to fake.
Dermal ridges, the foot equivalent of fingerprints, a mid tarsal
break indicating a flexible foot unlike modern humans, and proportions

(39:29):
that suggest a creature of enormous weight and size. Hair
samples collected from Midwest encounters have produced mixed results. Many
turn out to be from known animals like bears, deer, dogs,
but some samples have produced puzzling results. A twenty fourteen
analysis of hair collected from a siding location in Wisconsin

(39:50):
showed it was primate in origin, but didn't match anything
in the known database. The results were intriguing enough that
the samples were sent for advanced DNA analysis, though the
results remain controversial. Audio recordings from the Midwest have captured
vocalizations that don't match any known animal. The Ohio Howell

(40:11):
recorded by Suzanne Farncac has been analyzed by acoustic experts
who confirm it shows characteristics of a biological origin rather
than a mechanical one, with a vocal range that exceeds
human capability. Environmental DNA sampling, which can detect genetic material
shed by organisms into their environment, has revolutionized wildlife biology.

(40:33):
Could it finally provide proof of Bigfoot's existence. Several research
groups are conducting environmental DNA studies in areas of high
bigfoot activity in the Midwest. The results so far have
been intriguing, if not conclusive. Samples from several locations have
revealed primate DNA that doesn't match any known species. However,

(40:54):
contamination from human DNA remains a significant challenge, and peer
reviewed publication of the u s the results has proven elusive.
The impact of cryptid sightings on Midwest communities has been
profound and lasting. Some towns have embraced their mysterious visitors,
while others prefer to forget, but in all cases, these

(41:14):
encounters have become part of the cultural fabric of the region.
Several Midwest towns have turned their cryptid encounters into economic opportunities. Elkhorn, Wisconsin,
hosts an annual Beast of Bray Road celebration. Van Meter, Iowa,
has the Van Meter Visitor Festival. Murphysboro, Illinois, erected an
eight foot statue of the Big Muddy Monster and hosts

(41:37):
an annual festival in its honor. These events attract thousands
of tourists annually, bringing vital economic activity to small rural communities.
Local businesses sell cryptid themed merchandise, restaurants offer monster burghers,
and hotels fill up with cryptied enthusiasts. For those who've
had encounters, the experience often proves life chain. Many witnesses

(42:01):
describe a before and after quality to their lives. Before
the woods were just woods, the night just darkness. After
every shadow could hide something, every sound could herald another encounter.
Support groups have formed both online and in person, where
witnesses can share their experiences without fear of ridicule. The

(42:24):
Bigfoot Field Researchers organization holds regular town halls in active
areas where witnesses can tell their stories and hear from
others with similar experiences. Native American communities in the Midwest
have watched the modern fascination with Bigfoot and similar creatures
with mixed feelings. For many of these beings were never cryptids,

(42:44):
mysterious unknown creatures, but part of their traditional knowledge, as
real as any other forest dweller. Some indigenous leaders have
expressed frustration that their ancestral knowledge is only taken seriously
when validated by non native witnesses. Others worry that increased
interest in these creatures could lead to their harm if

(43:04):
they're ever definitively proven to exist. As we move deeper
into the twenty first century, technology is changing the game
for cryptid research in the Midwest. Trail cameras, thermal imaging,
environmental DNA sampling, and smartphone ubiquity have created new opportunities
for documentation and new challenges for those who would perpetrate hoaxes.

(43:27):
Modern trail cameras can capture high definition images and video,
detect heat signatures, and transmit data in real time. Researchers
have deployed hundreds of these cameras across the Midwest, creating
a surveillance network in areas of high activity. The results
have been mixed but intriguing. While no definitive footage of

(43:47):
Bigfoot has emerged, cameras have captured unexplained images, heat signatures
too large for known animals, bipedal figures at the edge
of detection, and strange eyeshine at heights that don't at
any Midwest wildlife. The Internet has transformed cryptid research from
a solitary pursuit into a collaborative effort. Online databases allow

(44:10):
witnesses to report sightings immediately, creating real time maps of activity.
Social media groups connect witnesses and researchers, allowing for rapid
response to citing reports. A new generation of cryptid researchers
is bringing scientific rigor to the field. Many have advanced
degrees in biology, anthropology, or related fields. They're less interested

(44:34):
in proving the existence of Bigfoot and more interested in
investigating the phenomenon itself. What causes sightings, why they cluster
in certain areas, what they tell us about human psychology
and our relationship with the unknown. As our journey through
the Midwest cryptid Encounters comes to an end. We're left
with more questions than answers. Are these creatures real flesh

(44:57):
and blood beings that have somehow escaped scientific documentation. Stay
tuned for more sasquatch ott to see. We'll be right
back after these messages. Are they misidentified known animals, their
appearance distorted by fear, darkness, and expectation. Are they something

(45:19):
else entirely? Interdimensional visitors, spiritual entities, or manifestations of our
collective unconscious. What we can say with certainty is that
thousands of people across the Midwest have had experiences they
can't explain. These witnesses come from all walks of life,
farmers and doctors, police officers and teachers, skeptics and believers.

(45:42):
Their stories show remarkable consistency across time and geography, describing
creatures that shouldn't exist, but somehow persist in our collective experience.
The Midwest, often dismissed as flyover country, emerges from these
accounts as a land of deep mystery. In the cornfields
of Iowa, something walks on two legs between the rows.

(46:04):
In the forests of Michigan and Wisconsin, Creatures that blend
human and animal characteristics, challenge our understanding of biology. In
the river valleys of Illinois and Missouri, beings that inspired
indigenous legends continue to terrify modern witnesses. Perhaps the most
important aspect of these stories isn't whether the creatures are
real in a conventional sense, but what they tell us

(46:27):
about our relationship with the unknown. In an age where
we've mapped the human genome and sent robots to Mars,
these encounters remind us that mystery still exists. There are
still dark corners of the map, still experiences that defy
easy explanation, still reasons to approach the forest with a
mixture of wonder and caution. The witnesses I've spoken with

(46:50):
over the years share one common trait. They no longer
take the natural world for granted. Their encounters, whether with bigfoot, dogmen,
or something stranger, still have awakened them to possibilities they
never considered. They've learned that the boundary between the known
and unknown is thinner than we think, and that sometimes,
in the right conditions, something can cross over from one

(47:13):
side to the other. As you go about your life
in the Midwest, driving down rural roads at dusk camping
in state parks, hunting in the early morning hours. Remember
these stories not to live in fear, but to stay aware,
To keep your eyes open, to listen to the forest
with new ears, Because somewhere out there, in the space

(47:34):
between civilization and wilderness, between day and night, between what
we know and what we imagine, something is moving through
the shadows. Maybe it's a bear, maybe it's a hoax,
Maybe it's something we haven't discovered yet. Or maybe, just
maybe it's exactly what witnesses say. It is a reminder
that the world is stranger, wilder, and more wonderful than

(47:58):
we ever imagined. The next time you hear an unusual
howl in the night, when your dogs cower for no
apparent reason, when you find a footprint that doesn't quite
make sense, remember the stories you've heard tonight. Remember that
you're not alone in experiencing the inexplicable. And remember that
sometimes the most rational response to an irrational experience is

(48:20):
simply to accept that there are things in this world
we don't yet understand. The shadows of the Heartland hold
their secrets close. They've kept them for centuries, revealing them
only in glimpses, in moments of terror and wonder that
transform ordinary people into witnesses of the extraordinary. The creatures
of the Midwest, whatever they are, wherever they come from,

(48:44):
remain free, wild, and mysterious. And perhaps that's exactly as
it should be, because in the end, it's not about
proving or disproving, believing or debunking. It's about the mystery itself,
the questions that keep us humble, the possibilit that keep
us wondering. It's about the stories we tell around campfires,

(49:05):
the warnings we pass down through generations, the experiences that
remind us that no matter how much we think we know,
there's always something more waiting in the shadows. The Midwest's cryptids,
from the Murphy's Borough mud Monster to the Michigan dog Man,
from the Beast of Bray Road to the Giants of Minnesota,

(49:25):
are more than just mysterious animals. They're part of our
cultural DNA, woven into the fabric of rural life. Standing
at the intersection of myth and reality, fear and fascination.
They remind us that maps have edges, that knowledge has limits,
and that sometimes on a dark night in a lonely place,
anything is possible. So the next time someone tells you

(49:47):
they've seen something impossible, something that shouldn't exist, don't be
so quick to dismiss them. Listen to their story, look
into their eyes, and remember that throughout history, the impossible
has had a funny way of becoming possible, the mythical
of becoming real, and the dismissed of becoming accepted. The
search continues, the mystery endures, and somewhere in the Midwest tonight,

(50:12):
something is walking through the woods on two legs, leaving
footprints that don't match any known animal, reminding us that
we share this world with mysteries we've yet to solve,
and maybe we never will. Maybe that's the point. Maybe
we need our monsters, our mysteries, our reminders that the
world is bigger and stranger than our everyday experience suggests.

(50:35):
Maybe the creatures of the Midwest serve a purpose beyond
biology or zoology. Maybe they're here to keep us wondering,
to keep us humble, to keep us connected to the
wild and unknown parts of ourselves and our world. Whatever
the truth, one thing is certain. The stories will continue.
New witnesses will come forward, new evidence will emerge, new

(50:58):
theories will be proposed, and the creatures of the Midwest
will remain what they've always been. Shadows in the Heartland,
mysteries in the corn reminders that no matter how much
we think we've tamed this continent, something wild and free
still roams the places between what we know and what
we fear to discover. The hunt continues, the mystery deepens,

(51:20):
and the shadows of the Heartland keep their secrets, revealing
them one terrifying, wonderful encounter at a time until next week,
when we explore another corner of America's cryptid map. Keep
your eyes open, your camera's ready, and your mind's receptive
to possibilities beyond the every day, because you never know
when you might become the next witness, the next person

(51:43):
with a story that no one will believe, but that
you'll never forget. This has been our journey through Bigfoot
encounters in America's Midwest. Thank you for joining me and
exploring these shadows in the Heartland, And remember they're out there,
whether we believe in them or not. Stay curious, stay cautious,
and always always stay wondering.

Speaker 1 (52:59):
M HM.