Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

A listener writes “Now, I currently live in the PNW, but I was born and raised in North Central Alabama in St. Clair Co. The home I grew up in was on a rural residential road with our neighbor to the SW having a pasture between us, and our neighbor to the NE with a small holler between us. Behind us was forest. Thousands and thousands and thousands of acres. In fact, you could hop those ridgelines all the way to N Georgia and E Tennessee without ever really meeting civilization. It’s a large area.

As a child, my brother and I spent a lot of time back in those woods. The holler between ourselves and the neighbor held a creek. That creek went all the way back in the woods about a mile, mile and a half through valleys and hollers to an origin spring. We used to follow that creek all back up in those woods, past old coal mines, over an abandoned railroad – just go and go and explore, as kids do. I remember my momma always telling us to watch Pooky (our Belgium Shepherd) when we were deep in the woods, because he would let us know when a bear or panther or such was around. And he did. There was a point Pooky wouldn’t go past, a couple hundred yards from the railroad track. Or times when we wouldn’t get very far in and he would signal us to turn around and go back. My brother and I always assumed it was a big cat or bear. We were never really afraid in those woods, but there would be times a feeling would come over you – a fight or flight response – hair standing up, goosebumps, an overall feeling of uneasiness or danger.

I remember several instances as a kid of animals coming really close to the house. Low guttural growls and whoops and hollers, and dad wouldn’t allow anyone outside and he’d sit facing the back door with a shotgun or pistol. When we’d ask what it was he’d say a bear or a panther, but there were times he would say he didn’t know because he never heard anything like it.

As I grew up and learned more about the world, became more aware of my own physical responses to stimuli, I had more experiences. By this time, our beloved Pooky was gone, but we had an Australian Shepherd named Molly. She was so much more happy in the woods than Pooky ever was, and she and I were very bonded. My brother had graduated and moved on, so I spent a lot of time in the woods exploring, looking for rocks and arrowheads, looking for certain plants and roots, etc., all alone. On many occasions, Molly would become frightened and begin to “herd” me back toward home. She would cry at me and growl at the ridgetops. And as we would make our way home, my footsteps would be mirrored by something (in those days, I assumed someONE) on top of the ridge to our SW. Always the southwestern ridges, never the other side. If I stopped, the footsteps stopped. Also if I stopped, Molly would whine. I would occasionally catch movement in my peripheral, but every time I looked, I saw nothing. I smelled nothing. Just knew someone (or thing) was there, following me. I talked to my momma about it, and she believed me. She began insisting I take the 16 gauge shotgun or the .38 revolver out when I went in the woods, just to be safe. I had my steps mirrored on so many occasions out there that it was just part of my hike. It was unnerving in its own way, but nothing had ever actually bothered me – just watched me.

I never noticed the full quiet people mentioned. In the Appalachian foothills, there’s always something making noise, if only bugs, birds, and frogs.

Time went on, I moved away overseas, came home with a husband and two kids and started my own family life. We visited momma and daddy all the time, but didn’t stay there. In the summer of 2010, however, my first husband and I divorced. The kids and I moved in with my parents while we found our feet. The kids and I shared a room on the back of the house. My dad had built it back when we were kids and it just kinda jetted out of that 4 room house on the back NW corner. Almost immediately after moving in, the kids and I started being woken up in the wee hours by bangs on the side of our room. Very loud, room shaking bangs. Often, my mother (who was always such a night owl) would still be up and awake and would wake up my dad. He’d listen for a bit, say there was nothing, then go back to bed. After a couple of weeks of this, mom and I were in the yard with the kids one evening when we noticed a footprint in a mossy area near my room. It wasn’t as well defined as one would like because it appeared to be a few days old. But, you could see toe marks and it was so big. Huge. Three times or more the size of a man’s foot. This was disconcerting but mom and I just tried to explain it away. Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like? A couple of days later we found a series of very, very long strides and footfalls in some tall grass (our old bean patch) at the edge of the woods on the back side of the house. Something very large, with an unbelievable stride had made these marks. A regular sized human wouldn’t be able to do the splits and connect the footfalls. The massive, massive footfalls. The bangs continued, along with occasional “whoops” late at night. My 5 year old daughter talked about seeing the hairy faced man in the window next to her bed.

One evening, I was standing out in the backyard, a couple of yards from the back porch when I heard a noise. It began as the beginning of an air raid siren and it was so sustained. It seemed to keep going and going, but when it ended, it was obviously NOT a siren. You could hear the natural sound and tone of a voice as it trailed off. I called my mom out from the kitchen just as the second howl started and she experienced it with me. This was similar to an Ohio howl, but way, way more sustained. I have no idea how anything would have the lung capacity to make this call. A couple of weeks later, we both heard it a third time, several times in a row. Both times were late in the evening about or near dusk. The howl was far away – I would estimate 1/4 – 1/2 mile at the very least. And that’s the thing. You could hear it clearly, loudly, and yet note that it was not near. It would have had to have been eardrum bending loud if you were near it.

Not long later, up the ridge directly behind the house, I saw one. I can’t be sure, but I’m willing to bet it was female. She was sitting about 75 yards into the woods up the hill and behind a blown over log from a tornado 10 years or so before. I would have never noticed her to be honest, if she hadn’t lifted her arm and scratched an area on her head or face. Her back was to me, but her mannerisms, apparent size, and movements suggested female to me. She was black. I grabbed a pair of small binoculars we kept on the back porch and got a better look. She sat pretty still, and just appeared to be resting. She moved her head a little at times and once shifted her weight from one side to another, ever so slightly. Her hair was, I’d guess, 3-5″ long all over and obviously matted in places, like spots of her back and the back of her head. I never saw her face, but the shape of her head was larger and more conical than ours, but not overly. It’s hard to say with the amount of hair, not seeing it in profile, or seeing her face. I certainly don’t believe there was a sagittal crest in any pronounced way (like on a gorilla or robust species of australopithecus, etc.). I don’t believe their diet requires it anyway. But it was definitely NOT a bear or any other kind of animal native to those woods. I know exactly what she was. After a few moments, I quietly went back inside to get Momma but when we came back out (after she got on a sweater and shoes), she was gone.

Meanwhile during this time (this was about September, early October), I was researching like a madman online. Sasquatch wasn’t a southern animal in my mind, it was in the PNW and the Himalayas. After awhile and several discussions with mom, I contacted someone about our experiences. I cannot for the life of me remember the names, but the person who organized the research was named Jack or John, I believe. By the end of November, we had two researchers at our place. One was a gentleman from Louisiana – Scott, maybe? And the other I remember more clearly. His name was Paul and he was called Papa Squatch (he was also a Pastor). He was from Northern Alabama up around Huntsville, I believe. They set out Flir cameras in prebuilt planters facing the woods. Every night, I’d get the SD cards, dump them, and reset for the next night (after they left, of course). But they did stay a couple of days. They did some research in the area behind our house, and Papa Squatch put out some digital sound recorders. He, unbelievably, captured “chatter”. A female voice, for sure and if I remember right, there was another female and possibly a male speaking as well. It’s been a long time since I heard those recordings so I can’t remember. If you’re in the research community, though, you may be able to find them. I believe Papa Squatch called them after either the nearest town of Pell City, or maybe St Clair County. I really feel like an idiot for not remembering their names, but I’ve searched online and I just can’t find anything. As far as I know, nothing was ever recorded on the Flir cameras, and the activity died down anyway after they came. Maybe the planters were too ostentatious, or something about the researcher’s presence made them keep their distance from then on out.

That next Spring the kids and I left for Mississippi where we lived for awhile. Not long after that I met my current husband (who also has two kids) and my life was swept away in raising a houseful of younguns and working. Other than being always aware, I have never experienced anything else – not a sound or a sight or a smell – just the occasional feeling of being watched in the woods. Now, we live in the PNW and I spend all my time working as a police dispatcher and no time for the woods or fun stuff like that. My body has aged, too.. and traversing the wilderness isn’t as easy as it used to be.”