MY BIGFOOT ENCOUNTER

ON NOVEMBER SIXTH, 2019 I WENT FROM BEING A SASQUATCH BELIEVER TO A SASQUATCH “KNOWER”.  NOTHING I’VE READ OR WATCHED HAD PREPARED ME FOR THE ENCOUNTER.  IN NINTH GRADE A FRIEND OF MINE GAVE ME A BOOK ENTITLED, “STRANGE CREATURES FROM TIME AND SPACE”.  IT IS A TONGUE IN CHEEK NARRATIVE OF ALL THINGS THAT GO BUMP OR GLOW IN THE DARK.  BIGFOOT WAS AMONG THEM.  I WAS ALREADY A UFO “KNOWER” BUT THAT’S ANOTHER STORY.

OVER THE YEARS, MY OPINION OF BIGFOOT WAS SKEPTICAL AT BEST.  I WATCHED ALL THE DOCUMENTARIES.  THEN I WATCHED “SCIENCE MEETS SASQUATCH” AND MY SKEPTICISM STARTED TO FADE.  I BOUGHT THE BOOK AND BECAME A BELIEVER.  THE BELL CURVE GRAPH OF SASQUATCH FOOT LENGTH APPEALED TO THE MATHEMATICIAN IN ME.  NUMBERS DO NOT LIE.

IN 2017, WE MOVED FROM LAS VEGAS NEVADA TO CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA.  I HAVE BEEN IN AND OUT OF CHARLESTON FOR ELEVEN YEARS AND WANTED TO RETIRE THERE.  MY GRANDCHILDREN LIVE THERE.  MY DAUGHTER WANTED TO GO TO COLLEGE IN SOUTH CAROLINA.  I WANTED TO RETIRE TO A PLACE THAT REMINDED ME OF WHAT CALIFORNIA USED TO BE WITH TREES AND AN OCEAN.  THE PROSPECT OF DOING SOME “SQUATCHING” WAS IN MY MIND.  THE MARION FRANCIS NATIONAL FOREST BECKONED TO ME.  ACCORDING TO THE BFRO, THERE ARE NOT MANY BIGFOOT SIGHTINGS IN SOUTH CAROLINA.  I THINK THAT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE CALLED “BOOGERS” NOT “BIGFOOT” AROUND HERE.  THE LOCALS HAVE STORIES OF THE ASHLEY RIVER “SWAMP MONSTER”. 

WHEN WE SETTLED INTO OUR NEW HOME, I DID NOT THINK I’D STUMBLE ONTO ANY BIGFEET.  HOWEVER, ONE MORNING WAITING FOR A CREDIT UNION TO OPEN UP, I SAW A BIGFOOT STICK STRUCTURE RIGHT AT THE EDGE OF THE PARKING LOT.  I INVESTIGATED, TOOK PICTURES .

NOW FOR THE GOOD PART.  ON THE SIXTH OF NOVEMBER, 2018, I DROVE MY DAUGHTER BACK TO COLLEGE.  I DROPPED HER OFF AND GOT BACK ON THE ROAD AT MIDNIGHT.  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT.  I ROARED DOWN HIGHWAY 71 AT SPEEDS A PATROLMAN WOULD FROWN AT.  BY  0130, I HAD PASSED A COUPLE OF CARS THAT HAD RUN OFF THE ROAD AND WAS FEELING GUILTY FOR NOT STOPPING.  IT WAS THEN THAT I SPOTTED THE BLUE LIGHTS.  MY GPS HAD TAUGHT THAT THE HIGHWAY PATROL HAD PULLED SOMEONE OVER ABOUT A MILE AHEAD.  I TOOK MY KIA SOUL OUT OF LIGHT SPEED.

I WAS IN THE RIGHT LANE.  THE SHOULDER OF THE ROAD WAS SMALL.  THERE WAS ABOUT 30 FEET OF TALL GRASS AND THEN THE MASSIVE TREELINE.  THE MOON WAS FULL AND THERE WAS A LOT OF LIGHT OF THE TOWNS AND CITIES BEING REFLECTED FROM THE LOW CLOUD COVER.  VISIBILTY WAS NOT A PROBLEM.  IT WAS THEN THAT I SAW A MAN STAND UP THE GRASS.  HE STEADIED HIMSELF WITH HIS ARMS OUT AND THEN FLOPPED BACK DOWN.

I SLOWED DOWN FURTHER AND WONDERED IF THE TROOPERS HADN’T FOUND HIM AND MAYBE HE WAS HURT FROM A WRECK.  I WAS PREPARING TO STOP AND RENDER AID WHEN THIS “THING” CAME AT ME IN THE GRASS.  I WAS BEWILDERED BECAUSE IT DEFINITELY WASN’T A MAN.  I HAD READ ALL ABOUT BIGFOOT IN THE “TURBO MODE” BUT THAT HAD NOT PREPARED ME FOR WHAT I SAW.  I SWEAR TO GOD THAT IT LOOKED LIKE A HUGE HAIRY SPIDER COMING AT ME ALL ARMS AND LEGS.  MY SPEED HAD DROPPED INTO THE 40’S AS IT CAME CLOSER AND NOW LOOKED LIKE A SOLDIER DOING A LOW CRAWL BUT MUCH TOO FAST.  WHEN WE PASSED EACH OTHER, EVERYTHING SLOWED DOWN FOR ME LIKE WHEN YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH.  I DID HAVE THE THOUGHT FLASH THROUGH MY MIND THAT IT WOULD LEAP ONTO THE PAVEMENT AND I’D HIT HIM.

I REMEMBER EVERY DETAIL AS WE PASSED.  IT WAS AT A RANGE OF ZERO.  IF SOMEONE WERE IN THE PASSENGER SEAT, THEY COULD’VE ROLLED DOWN THE WINDOW AND TOUCHED IT.  EVERY WINDOW ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE CAR WAS FILLED WITH THE DARKEST BLACK FUR I’VE EVER SEEN.  I SAW NO HEAD, NO HANDS OR FEET.  JUST FUR AND RIPPLING MUSCLES.  I SNAPPED OUT OF IT IN TIME TO SWERVE INTO THE LEFT LANE AND PASS THE SPEEDER AND TROOPER.

THIS HAPPENED ON HIGHWAY 71, NORTH OF COLUMBIA, SOUTH CAROLINA.  I DID NOT STOP TO GET A GPS LOCATION.  ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS GET HOME.  ALL THE WAY TO MY EXIT HOME I WAS TALKING TO MYSELF TRYING TO DIGEST WHAT I HAS SEEN.

“THAT WAS A BLACK BEAR. THAT WAS A BLACK BEAR”.
“NO IT WASN’T”
“YES IT WAS, SHUT UP.”

WHEN I GOT HOME, I GOOGLED BLACK BEARS IN SOUTH CAROLINA.  I FOUND OUT THERE ARE TWO GROUPS.  THE COASTAL GROUP AND THE INLAND GROUP.  THESE ARE SEPARATED BY A WIDE MARGIN RIGHT DOWN THE CENTER OF THE STATE.  GUESS WHERE MY ENCOUNTER WAS?  RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PARTS OF SOUTH CAROLINA THAT THE BEARS DON’T WANT TO GO.

I TOLD MY WIFE THAT I WAS AFRAID TO GO IN THE WOODS NOW.  “ARE YOU AFRAID OF TREES NOW?”, SHE ASKED.  “NO, I JUST DON’T WANT TO COME ACROSS A BIGFOOT.”

 “BUT YOU LIKE BIGFOOT.”

“I DO BUT I ALSO LIKE LIONS AND LIKE TO SEE THEM IN THE ZOO.  I DON’T NOT WANT TO COME ACROSS ONE IN THE FOREST.”

THAT’S WHERE I’M AT WITH BIGFOOT NOW.  I DO NOT WANT TO COME ACROSS ONE IN THE FOREST AND BET MY LIFE THAT IT’S IN A FRIENDLY, LOVING MOOD.

Old Man with Car Problems

As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open.


The old man was looking at the engine.

I put my groceries away in my car, and continued to watch the old gentleman from about twenty five feet away.

I saw a young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm walking towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too, and took a few steps towards him.

I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and say something. The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a brand new Cadillac Escalade. He then turned back to the old man. I heard him yell at the old gentleman saying:”You shouldn’t even be allowed to drive a car at your age.” And then with a wave of his hand, he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the parking lot.

I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief, and mop his brow as he went back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his wife and spoke with her; he appeared to tell her it would be okay.

I had seen enough, and I approached the old man.

He saw me coming and stood straight, and as I got near him I said, ‘Looks like you’re having a problem.’

He smiled sheepishly, and quietly nodded his head.

I looked under the hood myself, and knew that whatever the problem was, it was beyond me.

Looking around, I saw a gas station up the road, and I told the old man that I would be right back. I drove to the station and I went inside. I saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one of them, and related the problem the old man had with his car. I offered to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him.

The old man had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be comforting his wife. When he saw us he straightened up and thanked me for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem (overheated engine), I spoke with the old gentleman.

When I shook hands with him earlier, he had noticed my Marine Corps ring and had commented about it, telling me that he had been a Marine too. I nodded and asked the usual question, ‘What outfit did you serve with?’

He had mentioned that he served with the first Marine Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal …

He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was over. As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the mechanics lower the hood. They came over to us as the old man reached for his wallet, but was stopped by me. I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA card.

He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket. We shook hands all around again, and I said my goodbye’s to his wife.

I then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the station. Once at the station, I told them that they had interrupted their own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I wanted to pay for the help, but they refused to charge me.

One of them pulled out a card from his pocket, looking exactly like the card the old man had given to me. Both of the men told me then that they were Marine Corps Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one of them told me I should look at the card the old man had given to me. I said I would and drove off.

For some reason I had gone about two blocks, when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long, long time. The name of the old gentleman was on the card in golden leaf and under his name was written:’Congressional Medal of Honor Society.’

I sat there motionless, looking at the card and reading it over and over. I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled that on this day, four Marines had all come together because one of us needed help. He was an old man all right, but it felt good to have stood next to greatness and courage, and an honor to have been in his presence.

Remember, OLD men like him gave our FREEDOM for America . Thanks to those who served and still serve, and to all of those who supported them, and who continue to support them.

America is not at war. The U.S. Military is at war. America is at the Mall. If you don’t stand behind our troops, PLEASE feel free to stand in front of them!

Remember, Freedom IS NOT free. Thousands have paid the price, so you can enjoy what you have today.

LET’S DO THIS – JUST 19 WORDS:

GOD OUR FATHER, WALK THROUGH MY HOUSE AND TAKE AWAY ALL MY WORRIES; AND PLEASE WATCH OVER AND HEAL MY FAMILY; AND PLEASE PROTECT OUR FREEDOMS, AND WATCH OVER OUR TROOPS, WHO ARE DEFENDING THOSE FREEDOMS. AMEN.