Marshall writes “My friend and I went walking from his family farm across the road to his grandfather’s hunting land which was formerly a dog training area, high fences, used for training dogs to run foxes and coyotes. They would trap them and then have the dogs trail them.
That all stopped many years before we came along. My best friend (I’m gonna call him Chad to protect his real name as he is now an army sgt and I don’t want this to have an effect on his career, we also no longer speak much it’s been more than a year since we last spoke.) Told me that we could go into the old fox pen to squirrel hunt that day. So we took off with a single shot 20 ga and a pump pellet rifle. We noticed several things were very wrong once we got in there. Firstly, there was absolute silence throughout the forest. We’re talking about a 20-30acre tract of land that again has 8ft fences all the way round and three main lanes that meet a fire lane that encircles.
There were no birds, no crickets no nothing. If I remember right it was early in the year march I think bc squirrel season had just reopened. It was cold and overcast, still we expected to see at least a bird but nope nothing. After about an hour of walking around, we came to the third lane (we went down the first, turned and walked up the middle lane, and then proceeded down the far lane which usually the deerhunters that since the fox pens closure don’t even hunt) about 5 minutes into our slow walk, we both had this electric feeling… seriously we thought lightning was about to strike nearby or something we were totally wigged out. We looked at each other and suddenly smelled the most godawful stench waft through the trees on a breeze. Within a minute of smelling that we hear/see what I can only describe as Paul Bunyan pissed off knocking down a tremendous pine tree.
It started with a roar , I mean “RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH” with the sound of the wood splintering started about 1/3 the way through the roar. We could only see the top of the tree from where we were it was I’m guessing about 200 yards away from us in the deepest part of the area near the border fence. We watched/felt the tree fall and went into full panic. We ran the half mile back to the farmhouse where his grandfather lived and we were so scared we were in tears. That was it for the first encounter. His grandad laughed at us saying something like “yeahhh heeehee , told y’all bout the woodboogahs”
Fast forward about 2 years and a couple months, I believe it was early spring – we were having abnormal flooding in the swamps due to torrential rain for days at a time. Everything was coming out the swamps, and our favorite passtime in the afternoons and nights was riding up and down the dirt roads of the local hunting clubs with buckets – the back creeks and ditch lines all ran together with the flooding swamp waters and pushed crawfish and catfish- etc up into the middle of the roads. We’d ride along with spotlights and jump out in our boots to catch them and then use them as fishing bait later on. One such night, we decided to walk up to the edge of the main road from his trailer house on the dirt road. It bordered a cotton field that split and became a soybean field.
We were walking back from spotlighting the soybean field and I had to pee, Chad told me he was feeling uneasy and wasn’t waiting for me so I started literally peeing as I walked backwards behind him. Midstream- something …MUCH bigger than a cow or deer EXPLODED out of the ditch line to my right. It was so heavy we felt the footfall all the way to the middle of the cotton field. The trees and brush erupted and we heard something exhaling super hard like “WOOOHFFWOOFFFF.”
It was cloudy and raining lightly but the moon was near full so there was some ambient light, enough that the cotton was illuminated in the field. When this thing took off it went straight across the cotton and what we saw from the road (we froze in fear for enough time to see it then bolted for his front yard about 300yards from where we were) was a HUGE black silhouette on two legs sprinting faster than Usain Bolt. We felt it’s footfall even as it reached the tree line on the far side of the field. Swear on my life it could only be one thing. We stayed inside that night afterwards and just wrote it off later. We were pretty ballsy back then.
Same week as the second encounter we went fishing in a pond the back side of the same property a few days later. It was about midnight and raining still, the ponds were overflowing and connecting with the swamp. I left a small bream rod with a floating handle spooled with like 6lb test mono line wedged in a tree on the bank, it was rigged with a single split shot and an Aberdeen wire hook and a small grasshopper.
This is important because 1 nothing bigger than a bream or small fish would have hit it. 2 because the handle floated and was florescent orange , highly visible, the pond is only like 200 yards square in a long rectangle along the path. And 3 because I wedged it in a way that the line would have broken before the rod went flying. We went to the house after about 2 am, around 5 am we came back to get the rod and look around. It smelled like wet dead rotting dog/roadkill. We were super unnerved and the rod was gone. Only sign was right beside the tree in the muddy bank was a single deeeeeep depression in the edge of the water that looked just like a heel print. Never found my rod. We bailed.
We went to that same pond area almost a year later and there was a man made creek with high walls that ran from one side of the swamp up into the woods where it SHOULD have connected to another pond on adjacent property. We got in this old 8ft John boat with paddles that stayed out there for duck hunting , paddled up the creek as far as we could and ended up passing under pine trees so thick it was nearly black dark. The creek so narrow we couldn’t turn around and assumed we’d be able to once we got to the pond, only we found that about a quarter mile from where the pond should be there was a sort of dam of mud and debris and limbs.
The banks surrounding us were absolutely littered in bones of all sizes looked like everything from small fish and birds to deer skeletons piled up on the banks. That foul skunk ape smell was so rank back there that we went into a full panic and I jumped into the water, spun us around and pushed us off back towards the house. We were so afraid that time bc of the rampant signs of death. It felt like we had for sure found the lair of the beast. We never went back there. His grandfather who built all those ponds and creeks acted like he knew more than he was willing to talk about but claimed he didn’t know the creek had a dam and seemingly just didn’t believe us.
The final thing was (and I cannot confirm this as I was not there) Chad called me one night about midsummer of our senior year 2015 super excited , I had to ask him to calm down to explain bc he wasn’t making sense. He exclaims “I SAW HER” I said ” what???? Who???” He comes back with “Bro she had boobs!”
Apparently he and his girlfriend had driven out to the old property to look around right after dusk and the ape/squatch/thing jumped across the road like 20 feet from his headlights and he described it as “about 7 feet tall, reddish brown matted hair all over and swinging breasts”
Anyway I’d love to explain in detail. Sorry for the super long message. Hope this gets to you.”