I have a few stories that I would like to share, even though they're not very exciting
and I never had a full view of anything, but I know that it was Bigfoot.
I have three different stories that I'd like to share with you.
The most exciting story happened when I was 15 years old, and it was so traumatizing,
I pretty much had forgotten about it until the passing of my cousin in 2023.
So saying all of that, how about I get started?
My first story happened in early July 2015.
At the time I was a truck driver, and I teamed up with a guy named Thomas.
He was from Tennessee, a great guy, and he taught me most of the things that I know about
trucking and surviving out on the road.
Unfortunately, Thomas passed in 2022, and I was with him when this account happened.
We had just went to Red Bulling Springs, Tennessee, to a water bottling plant.
We picked up about 40,000 pounds of bottled water.
He was early morning hours.
The sun had not come up yet, and we were on back roads.
You want to talk about dark?
We were trying to head towards the interstate.
I know we were heading towards I-40, but I don't remember the exact back roads we were on.
But everything was two lanes, and the vegetation was so dense and so overgrown, it came right
up to the roadside.
We were headed towards 40, and for some reason Thomas was up in the passenger side seat,
and we were having a small conversation while I was driving down these roads.
And then I noticed a sign that I had passed, it said, "road closed."
By the time I had realized what the sign said, it was too late.
Within another mile or so I was on a two-lane road, in a very large semi-truck, almost impossible
for us to be able to turn around.
Thomas was the type of individual that wanted you to know that he was always in control.
He had every situation handled.
He never lost his cool.
He never lost his temper.
So that's the scenario.
Thomas jumps out of the truck and decides that he's going to walk down the road and see
you while the road is closed.
I stayed with the truck with four-way flashers on.
We stopped in the middle of this road and low and behold I see him walking down the middle
of the road, with his iPhone in hand, and all he was using was his flashlight from the
phone.
I see him walk about a quarter of a mile, turn a curve, and then I couldn't see the light
anymore.
And remember, it was dark.
I mean darker than dark.
All I could see was to where the headlights went, and with his light out I couldn't notice
anything else.
And like most truck drivers, of course, every opportunity that I stopped, I picked up my
phone and began to read messages, check emails, and all this other stuff.
So I'm sitting in the truck, waiting on him, and I keep glancing up.
I see nothing.
Then after about five or six minutes I noticed in the distance a light falling all over
the place just back and forth, bouncing up and down.
I had no idea what was going on.
Well, what ended up happening was Thomas gets right to the end of the lights of the truck,
and he stops.
Then he kind of gains his composer about himself.
And then he casually walks into the light, comes up to the truck.
He was wide as a ghost when he sat down, and he was breathing so hard he could barely catch
his breath.
He told me that while he was out there, that it was a small creek, and it had kind of washed
out the road.
You could tell by the debris on the road and stuff like that that it came over the road,
and that's why it had been closed.
He said though it wasn't like that anymore, but he didn't know if the road was structurally
sound.
So I asked him if he was okay during this scenario.
He told me that when he had gotten into the small washed out bridge, he heard something.
It was almost like he could hear someone talking in the woods, but it was almost out of
your shot, just to where you could hear the talking, but you could not make out what they
were saying.
He said he turned around to come back.
He took a step, and right behind the tree line, something else took a step.
He took two steps, and something right on the other side of the tree line also took two
steps.
So he started walking.
He said he could tell that whatever was in that tree line, it was bipedal, and that it
was mimicking every single thing that he did.
If he took three steps and stopped, it took three steps and stopped, and it was getting
closer and closer to the road.
He said the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he ran as hard and fast as he could
back to the truck.
So I was like, well, what kind of noises did you hear?
And then he started making this gobbling noise with clicks and pops.
Sounds like that, he said.
The best I can make out, he said, was it might have been some kind of wild hog or something
like that on the other side of the tree line?
But the noise he made, and the ones he was attempting to make, well, I had already heard
those before.
The closest thing I could say that they sounded to were the Sierra sounds that I've heard
many times.
Truth be told, I had listened to a lot of big-foot shows at night while I was driving
by the time he made those sounds to me.
I had heard the Sierra sounds numerous times.
I knew he had never heard any of those shows that I listened to, because I had a single ear
piece that fit right inside my ear.
That way I could listen and make sure I was entertained while I drove, but there was never
any noise to disturb him while he was sleeping.
Once we realized that the bridge was closed and we had to turn around, he said there was
a dirt road right up there, and he said, I'm going to do it.
I'm going to pull on to that dirt road, and I'm going to back the truck out, and we're
going to head back the opposite way, and we'll get back on track.
Well, Thomas asked me to get out of the truck and make sure everything was okay.
Nance, I was so scared to get out of that truck, I was not about to get out.
Well he started backing up and he said, are we okay?
Is everything good out there?
I said, yeah, it's fine.
I can see everything we need to see.
But really, I couldn't see anything, but I was not about to get out of that truck.
I've heard a lot of the Native American stories about Sasquatch and how they are cannibalistic.
They'll eat people, and I'm not trying to be funny here.
I know that as a human being, I would be delicious.
Just picture a guy that has seasoned himself with so much fast food and all kinds of good
stuff.
I would be just like eating some kind of good hamburger or a steak or a sandwich or something
like that to them.
A lot of the times I used to tell people that my hormones smell like fried chicken, and
that's why all the voluptuous ladies really liked me.
I seemed to draw them in and droves.
But needless to say, we made it out safe, made it to interstate 40, and we got back on track.
We never saw anything, but we didn't leave that area without being shook up quite a bit.
My second story is from 2016, late January.
By this time I had bought my own semi-truck, and during this time I had actually become a
trainer.
So I trained several people to drive semi-trucks out on the road, just like Thomas taught me.
I had picked up a load of parts for Volvo, and I had to deliver those parts to Dublin,
Virginia.
It was January 27th, about four in the morning.
I get to the Volvo plant and it's dark and it had snowed.
It was cold and they sent me to a drop yard on the property, which was absolutely massive.
I get to a security gate.
There's a guard shack there.
I speak to the guard.
She tells me where to drop my trailer and where to pick up an empty.
So I go to the area that she asked me to go to to drop my loaded trailer.
When I dropped that trailer, I jumped out and automatically the hair on the back of my
neck stood up.
I started to get scared for some reason, and I had no idea why.
I was a type of individual that I always wanted to be comfortable while I was driving, so all
I had on were some athletic basketball shorts, tennis shoes, a t-shirt, even with snow on
the ground.
During this time I start to walk back behind my trailer to let the landing gear down and
to pull out the pin on the fifth wheel and take my airlines and electrical cable off my
trailer.
Now that's also known as the pig tail.
At that time something kept telling me I needed to leave.
Now let me tell you that human instinct is a powerful thing that we need to pay more attention
to.
I heard a loud grunt.
That's the best way I can explain it.
I heard it even with the truck running.
It was almost like I could feel it in my body, like something had hit me in the chest.
I happened to have a flashlight.
I shined it around.
I didn't see anything until I started to walk back to the cabin of my truck.
I looked down on the ground and there were two sets of massive tracks in the snow.
I actually took pictures of those and I'm going to include those in the email.
From the tip of my toe to the heel of my shoe measures exactly 12 inches.
In the pictures you can tell that these feet were a lot larger than mine.
One of them being around 18 inches and the other I would say around 20.
They were half as wide as they were long and you can really see some good detail in some
of those prints.
Not only that, but one of the pictures shows that the creature had to have weighed a lot.
The prints sink down through the snow and ice.
You can see the ripples in the ice around the feet to show that they sink down further
than the people that were walking around them.
I don't know how far the tracks went there, but needless to say, I didn't waste any time
getting out of there.
I had no complications and I did not see anything else.
I really wish I had because I had in my camera ready the whole time.
Dark or not, I was still going to at least try to take a picture.
My third story is the oldest.
It happened 29 years ago in 1996 when I was 15 years old.
Back from where I'm from is in North Carolina.
We live very close to the Virginia border in Central North Carolina.
My great grandfather had a farm that was about 150 acres and it was split by two different
counties.
There was an area on his farm that was called the Bottoms, which was the lowest part of
the land.
It had to have been at least 30 acres, flat level, and it was beautiful land that was surrounded
by a huge creek that was very deep in some spots and it was always flowing.
This area was prone to flooding, but it didn't flood very often unless we had a whole lot
of rain that year.
My family were tobacco farmers, so yeah, while I was a kid, a lot of my after school activities
and Saturday activities were out working on that farm, especially in those tobacco fields.
I can tell you, I do not miss that, but those fields in the Bottoms, they rotated them every
couple of years so that for one year we would have soybeans in those fields.
The next year we would have tobacco again, so you have to forgive me.
I forget how the rotation went, but one of the fields began to get overgrown over time,
so they used the field in front of it, and at North Carolina, Lord knows we have plenty
of pine trees, so a thicket will start and it doesn't take very long for them to grow.
One of the back fields of the Bottoms ended up being a ripe-sized pine tree thicket.
The trees in it were smaller, and it was very thick.
You couldn't see anything through them.
Needless to say that you were in November, me and my cousin Dusty decided we were going
to try to get into deer hunting, so one Friday night I stayed over at his house.
We asked our great-grandparents if we could go hunting down in the bottoms and see if we
could back ourself a deer.
They agreed, as long as we promised to be as careful as we could.
So we stayed up that whole entire night.
Now this is back in the time of VHS tapes.
We rented 10 hunting videos from the local movie store, and we stayed up all night long
watching videos trying to learn the secret techniques of bagging a big buck.
Needless to say, the time comes for us to get up, and my uncle takes us down close to
the bottoms and drops us off, knowing we had stayed up all night watching those videos.
We didn't want to get up that morning because it was cold, and the frost was thick out
there.
The ground was frozen, and I remember complaining all the way down to the bottoms.
It was probably a good quarter of a mile walk in.
We walked at a steady pace.
We get to the bottoms and we look, and there's the largest buck you've ever seen.
Or at least, the biggest I had ever seen up to that time.
He was big and beautiful, and he was almost a grayish color, like his fur had a gray tent
to it, instead of a nice brownish color.
I guess he was a lot older than most of the bucks in the area, but he was massive.
He would have been a prize for sure.
My cousin actually had an SKS with a banana clip with 50 bullets in it.
I had a 30/30 lever action with four bullets.
The odd thing about this whole scenario was the deer was actually running towards us,
until he saw us in a soybean field.
Once he saw us, he dropped.
It was like he almost tried to lay flat, but you could still see his racks sticking up above
the soybeans.
Of course me and my cousin, we just opened fire.
He shot three or four times, and I shot three times.
And I know we did not hit that deer.
As soon as my cousin shot, he jumped to the ground and started crawling towards the soybean
field the way a soldier would.
The first thing I say is, "What are you doing on the ground?"
The deer knows we're here.
We just shot everything all around that deer.
Now, soon as the deer heard me say that, it stood up and it jumped toward the thicket,
running right beside the field.
And the very next thing you know, a huge hairy arm came out of the side of that thicket
and grabbed that deer by the antler on its head.
And with a quick flick, snap and yank, the deer was incapacitated, and it was snatched into
the thicket.
"Oh, you heard was a nasty crunch, a grunt, and that was it.
It was silent."
Even though it seemed like it happened in a split second, I did see it clear.
The arm that came out of the pine thicket was very high off the ground.
It had five digits on the hand, and it had a dark hair covering the arm.
But the skin itself, it was almost black with a grayish coating to it, like the skin was
dry.
It was very muscular.
And it seemed like the biceps and the triceps on the upper arm was wide as my 15-year-old
30-inch waist.
It wasn't so much scary as it was traumatizing.
The deer was now gone, and I couldn't believe my eyes.
My cousin was like, "I know we got it.
I know we got it."
He then said, "I heard him fall.
I heard the noise."
The only thing I could say for sure was, "We did not get that deer."
Dusty said, "Oh yes, we did.
We got him.
We need to go find that deer."
I said something got him, but it was a nuss.
I said we needed to leave right now.
We walked the three miles back to my grandma's house, and I asked her to take me home.
My cousin, Dusty, told me later that he went back that day, and he could never find that
deer.
I had no idea he had gone back there alone.
He never said anything about seeing anything or noticing anything out of the normal.
Needless to say.
I have never hunted again.
Time being inevitable and cruel at times.
This family farm of ours has done nothing but shrink over time.
My family got out of farming tobacco, and over the years the farm has sadly been divided
again and again amongst different inheritances, and having a large family, it's broken down
to about twenty acre parcels now.
My grandmother's is the only one of those that just so happens to have the bottoms.
I haven't been there since I was fifteen years old.
I know that at some point in my life I just might own that piece of property.
I don't know if I have much use for it.
Who knows?
I may go down there and visit, but I think it's highly unlikely.
Please tell the crowd I'm telling these stories and loving memory of Thomas and my cousin
Dusty, both who are now passed away.
I miss them both.
They were a big part of my life, and they will forever be missed.
Thank you.
Signed.
Red Angel