A listener writes “Our story starts in Erie, Pennsylvania, the most unlikely place you would think to come across a sasquatch. It was a bright and sunny afternoon in the fall of 2002. My sisters and I were at home, a ranch house in a patch of woods surrounded by neighborhoods, a nursing home, and some of the busiest streets in town. They were out catching butterflies on the hill top in our front yard with our dog. I was just about ready to look for a net in the house when I noticed something down the creek caught my sisters’ attention.
I went to the edge of the hill and asked what happened. “I think it’s a crazy black dog, chasing its tail,” my youngest sister said. I heard leaves rustle and crashing sounds about 60 feet away or so but I didn’t see anything. I was going to go back to the house when I got the feeling that I should stay. We talked amongst ourselves for a little while before the crashing noise stopped and the entire world went quiet. I don’t know how, but it was as if the creature appeared out of nowhere.
The creature stood inhumanly tall, thin, and slightly hunched. It reached about 8 feet, shrinking the hills and trees around it. The fur covering its entire body was like looking into a black hole. Its faceless, conical head was so dark it was as if all the light of day disappeared into it. The fur was messy and matted around its lower body, its elbows ashy, and the hands were in a strange, almost cartoonish position, like a villain creeping by on Scooby-Doo. It made no noise. Not a sound, and walked so incredibly fast and steady over the creek you would’ve thought it was walking on glass as it headed toward us.
Our dog’s fur stood up on end. We had never seen her like that before or since. Her barking, growls, and snarls were vicious and nonstop. She lunged a few feet down the hillside at it then back up again.
The creature slowed its pace as it passed us. It had to have been no more than 40 feet away. It felt far too close for comfort but paid no attention to us. It kept along the small creek, not looking at us once, even as our dog barked and as I called out to it. I must’ve said hi ten times, expecting it to at least wave back. I raised my voice, wondering if it could hear me over the barking. “Hi!” I called out. “Nice costume! Where are you going? Who are you? Are you bigfoot?”
At some point, I lost patience. I slid a few feet down the hill, curious and playful. My sisters told me not to go any further. Thankfully I never made it past our dog. Her behavior was all it took to shatter my curiosity. Still, I wanted a closer look especially because none of us could see its face. I caught a glimpse of the front for maybe a few seconds but hadn’t seen anything. Looking at it from the side wasn’t any easier. I stared at its pointed head so intently but never once saw even the glint of its eyes. I can only assume it must have been looking down or away.
I picked up small rocks and aimed them at the creature, hoping to get its attention, but I only tossed them a few feet, afraid at what it might do. It never got aggressive even with everything going on. It just seemed annoyed, but more than that it seemed lost, just wanting to hurry home, wherever home was.
The time we first saw it to the time it disappeared into the woods was probably no more than a minute. For some reason, it felt a lot longer, closer to 5 minutes. I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure. All I know is it felt like forever.
My sister was the last to see the creature. She saw it drop down real low on all fours and vanish into the ground.
This left us with so many questions.”