Curt B’s First Encounter
I have been fortunate enough to have had
three separate Sasquatch encounters in my lifetime. They were all when I was
young. I was fourteen years old the first time I seen a Sasquatch. I grew up in
Indiana but we had family land in Kentucky. Really close to the West Virginia
state line. My family owned hundreds of acres of pure mountain country. We
called it "the knobs." We used to go there all the time and visit. We
would go fishing, hunting, and trapping. There was also a great network of caves
located all throughout and on top of the biggest mountain on the land. My
great, great grandfather and several generations after, farmed tobacco in the
flat fields located in the "knobs."
My grandfather and all his brothers grew up
on this land and had countless Sasquatch encounters over the years. They called
them "creek monsters." This is way before the name Bigfoot was
coined. They were boys running around the woods back in the 1930's and 40's.
There is a nice size creek that runs through the property and that's where my
grandpa and his brothers usually seen "creek monsters." Every time us
boys would go into the woods, even with an adult present, the elders would
always tell us to take a rifle or shotgun and to watch out for the "creek
monsters." We always thought they were crazy until one faithful day.
Me and my cousin had rode a couple of mules
up the knob to our favorite fishing hole. We fished for a while and weren't
having much luck. It was mid July and really hot so we decided to go swimming.
We swam to a little island in the middle of the lake and at some point fell
asleep. When we woke up, it was almost dark. We were worried we'd be in trouble
so we got ready to swim back to the bank, get our shirts, shoes, and fishing
poles and head back to the farm (about a 2 hour mule ride). Just as we were
getting ready to get into the water, we heard the mules going crazy. They were
kicking, braying, and trying to break free from the tree we had them tied to.
We looked over to see what was going on and that's when we seen it.
There was a creature about 8 or 9 foot tall
on the bank sifting through our tackle box and worm bucket. We both froze in
feast. This creature was only about 50 yards away from us. We both got down on
our bellies in some tall weeds and held our breath. This creature was squatting
down at first. We watched for what seemed like forever, as it continued taking
things out of the tackle box and then dropping them on the ground. Then it
stood up. It was huge!!!
My father used to take me to Cincinnati
Bengals football games all the time when I was a kid. Anthony Munoz was my
favorite player. He played offensive tackle. He was 6 foot 6 inches tall and
weighed 280 pounds. I have been on the field after many games and met him in
person. I have stood right next to him and shook his hand so I know how big he
is in person. This creature made Anthony Munoz look small.
We continued to watch in fear. We were
afraid it would see us and we weren't sure what it would do to us. It was
getting dark at this point which was making us more scared because we still had
to get back. It started to walk toward the mules. We thought it was going to
kill them. They were still kicking and braying up a storm. The creature hit
it's head on a tree branch as it was walking toward the mules. It must have
pissed it off because it reach up, grabbed the branch and ripped it from the
tree. About that time, we heard a loud, horrible scream from across the lake.
It was a scream like I'd never heard before. It made every hair on my body
stand on end. The creature looked in the direction of the scream and then took
off walking around the lake.
We stayed in the grass and continued to be
quiet. We watched it until it got to the opposite side of the lake and
disappeared into the tree line. We stayed on the island for another hour after
it vanished, too scared to leave. We kept watching and listening to make sure
it was gone. Finally, we slowly and quietly swam back to the bank. We walked
the mules about a mile away from the lake before we got on them to ride. The
entire time, we kept looking back behind us. Neither one of us said one word
the entire time back to the farm. We were afraid it would hear us. I've never
been more afraid than I was that evening.
When we got back, we told our fathers and
our grandpa about the experience. All my grandpa had to say about it was,
"I told you boys to watch out for those damn creek monsters." I had a
couple more encounters on "the knobs" throughout my teen years but
nothing like that first one. We watched that creature up close and personal for
at least 30 minutes. It wasn't a bear. It wasn't a deer. It wasn't a man in a
costume. What we saw that day was a Sasquatch. We went back to the lake about
two days later and took a tape measure. We didn't find any tracks because it
had since rained. We did find the branch that it hit its head on and then
ripped off the tree. We found the area on the tree that the branch was ripped
from. There was still half the branch on the tree. The branch measured 8 foot 4
inches from the ground. Believe me if you want. Call me a liar if you want. It
really makes no difference to me. I know what I saw that evening and nobody
will ever tell me different.
Blog Post by Dan Lindholm
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