Surviving Bigfoot and the Dixie Mafiahttp://pastebin.com/jq6z06G2
Johnny Mays had a farm pond a quarter mile north, up the sandstone canyon from ours. Me and my buddies enjoyed fishing there and catching bullfrogs. My cousins and I often camped there under the stars in sleeping bags. Western Oklahoma doesn't have much moisture in the atmosphere, so the stars shine brillantly in the night sky. Often we would see bear creatures off at a distance, with their young cubs by their side. Thats what made camping trips here so adventurous at Mays pond. Johnny had been a professional baseball player back East, until he lost a lung.
Now I believe what we saw were actually bigfoot families. The cubs grew and matured twice as fast as a person. We gave them names and loved watching them play. Sometimes the old ones would be walking with a limp, or dragging their leg. They probably have a graveyard some place hidden. Sometimes we would become afraid and climb tall trees. I estimated the tree branches couldn’t support their weight. Usually the Bigfoots didn't come that close. We climbed the trees because home was too far to run to, without getting caught. Us boys weren't allowed to carry guns on our hiking or camping trips. Dad was afraid we would have a gun accident.
My brother is two and a half months younger than me. When my brother Merle was in the fifth grade, he invited Dennis Dick to come spend the night at our house. They both were attending grade school at Hydro. Merle had already been to his house several times, so Dennis wanted to visit his. I can still recall this day very clearly. After getting off the school bus, Merle and I took Dennis Dick to climb Ghost Mound. On the top of the small mountain, the height and high wind terrified my brother’s friend. Fearing he would be blown off, he clung to a large boulder on the top. I had to pry his fingers loose, then drag him down the mountain. Dennis Dick kept grabbing the boulders on the way down, and I was afraid we both would fall to our death.
We spent the next few hours fishing at the catfish pond behind our house. I didn’t want to share our room with my brothers friend, so I suggested he and Merle have a campout. Telling them both it should be loads of fun. We had a Rambler station wagon parked under a huge cottonwood tree, that we didn’t use any longer. Dennis Dick refused to sleep in a tent, because he heard coyotes off in the distance chasing a rabbit. Finally I convinced him sleeping in the station wagon would be totally safe. He could roll up the windows and lock the doors if he got scared. I made a bed for them in the station wagon, then retired to my bedroom. It had been a long day and I was totally exhausted.
Around three o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by muffled voices coming through my window. I quickly climbed through my open bedroom window, so I wouldn't wake up my cranky dad. As I walked up in the bright moonlight, I could see the station wagon's windows were rolled up. The boys must be scared of something I thought. On closer inspection I could see the old blue station wagon rocking back and forth. I assumed the boys must be playing inside. Since the car was parked only twenty feet from the road, I decided I better check up on them. Startlingly I saw this tall dark shadow flee from jerking the car's door handle. I ran across the front yard for a baseball bat, and my heart began pounding in my chest. Hopefully this wasn't a hired killer planning to murder us. Merle and Dennis were badly shaken up, and didn’t want to leave the safety of the car. I really couldn't blame them, because hard telling what they had to endure. So I decided to sleep in the front car seat for the rest of the night. I planned to protect them from whoever it was, even though I was only thirteen years old.
About an hour later while I was fast asleep, the prowler came a calling. The big man began jerking on the doors violently, and pounding the windows with his fists. The cottonwood tree's massive shadow concealed the determined intruder. The flashlight my brother and Dennis were using had already lost it's charge, so I wasn't able to identify our attacker. The car wouldn’t start because the battery was low, so driving away wasn't an option.. The car hadn't been driven in a year or two. The light from the inside dome lights didn’t help me identify the thug. I was acutely aware a thirteen years old, was no match for a colossal criminal. Finally I thought to honk the horn, and out came my dad with a forty five Colt pistol in both hands. We yelled it was only us, then he cussed and sent us to bed. None of us could sleep, so we stayed up and watched television.
The next day we examined the station wagon, and it was covered in scratches and dents. The entire top of the car was caved in. A few weeks later somebody began leaving us black walnuts in the depression on the roof of the car. Later they began leaving old tackle boxes in the same place. A few months later dad sold the old Rambler for junk to the Hydro Auto Salvage . Both me and my brother realized the bear creature had left the nuts and tackle boxes. We never knew whether the beast wanted to play with or hurt us. Dennis told everyone at school my farm had monsters. I said he was making the whole story up just to get attention. I didn't want people to think I lived some place creepy. Besides I didn't want everyone hanging out at my house.
It was on a scorching hot day in mid July 1972, that I finally got to meet a bear creature up close and personal. Dad had firmly requested that we help Richard Waters out, by chopping weeds from his cotton. The previous day we and a couple had chopped the weeds from the farm in which he lived on. The nicely dressed hippie couple working for him was from California. They were an attractive couple probably in their late forties or early fifties. They offered us drugs as a friendly gesture, to make the hot day feel better. Mother made it very clear to them, that we were a christian family. They worked very hard in the field and seldom took time to rest. They were suppose to meet us the next day, at Richard Waters cotton field north of Hydro. It was located on the South Canadian River. His son Rodney Waters has later since built a home there, where the old house sat.
When we arrived at one o'clock in the afternoon, the small foreign car was parked next to the field. A card table was set up, holding plates of sandwiches and potato salad. Only a bite or two was taken from the two plates with the sandwich and potato salad. We looked around for the couple but couldn’t find them, in this remote area. Mother said they probably got too hot and walked down to the river for a swim. There was an old farm house on the property, that nobody had lived in for decades. Next to the house was a large Elberta peach tree full of big ripe peaches. There wasn't a cloud in the sky that day, but the wind was blowing hard. I had to keep chasing down my cowboy hat. It was very quiet and not even a meadow lark was singing.
Me, my oldest sister LaDonna, and brother Merle headed up our cotton rows, in the baking heat. My mother Wanda and sister Malva said they were going to the tree to get a peach. We just had eaten our lunch, so the rest of us were not hungry. After me Merle and LaDonna were about four city blocks down our rows, we began wondering what was taking mother and Malva so long to start up their rows. Suddenly mother came rushing from behind the old house and was waving her arms frantically. We all figured they got into a nest of yellow jacket wasps, and was trying to fend them off. A few minutes later Malva went running for the car. We thought she got stung several times, and was wanting to go home.
All the sudden one of the bear creatures began to appear, he looked just like the ones I grew up with. The hairy beast was walking along the barbed wire fence north in our direction. My frightened mother went dashing to the car and was desperately trying to get Malva to unlock the car doors. She was in a hurry to drive the car to us. The bear creature continued to move forward until it was directly across from us. Our Buick was too far away to make a run for it. I was fourteen and big for my age, but my little brother couldn’t run very fast. My big sister LaDonna was a track champion and could run like the wind. I tried to talk my brother and sister into making a run for it, while I stayed behind. My plan was to run up to the bear creature and get it to chase me. I figured it would probably kill me, but my brother and sister would survive. LaDonna decided our best chance was to stick together, and she didn't want me trying to be a hero.
Quickly I came up with the idea to charge the bear, and yell while swinging our heavy steel hoes. It wouldn't be expecting that, so maybe it would become confused and stand there. This would buy us much needed time to flee the creature. As it crossed the barb wire fence and got closer, it became quite obvious that it wasn’t a bear. Its huge nut sack got caught on the fence, so it stopped momentarily to free itself. It looked similar to a big hairy human with muscular jaws. The whites of its eyes were yellow colored, and it held its eyes wide open. The creature was approximately seven feet tall and it was long waisted. Its short legs were heavily boned and extremely muscular. It had tan skin covering most of its body, however its lips nose nipples and penis appeared black. Its enormous teeth were stained and dirty but they looked human. We all agree the hands and feet looked like ours. Its arms and chest had only an average amount of muscle. The animal had an erect penis of about ten inches, which stood just past its belly button. From its body language It appeared to be extremely angry so I figured we were all dead.
However we three kids charged the beast, and it stopped dead in its tracks. Merle my brother began crying hysterically, so I figured I might have to carry him. We began shouting and charging once again, and the bear creature turned and walked away. It reluctantly made it to the fence and crossed it. Then it turned around and stared at us menacingly for about three or four minutes. It was doing what appeared to be sign language with its hands. Next it turned and ran, like nothing we had ever seen. Its running stride must have covered twenty feet. And it ran as fast as a cheetah. It kept its body a perfect ninety degrees as it ran, and its head could turn and watch us without stopping.
Several minutes later some Army helicopters flew over, probably from Fort Sill Oklahoma. They were flying low and in the same direction that Bigfoot went. I thought maybe this beast was something that escaped from the Army. Having soldiers so near made my fear go away. I just couldn't get a grip on what we just witnessed, it wasn't human and it wasn't animal. I was very thankful we all were okay. We all hugged each other with tears running down our faces.
The farm workers from California never retrieved their belongings from Richard Water's house. He eventually drove their car away. The keys had been left in the ignition. Richard became agitated every time mother would inquire about the couple. So I figure he knew more than what he was saying. He always reminded mother they were poor people, so it didn't matter what had happened to them. The lady had left her purse on the ground next to the card table. Mother thought about looking through it, to find out who the people were. She decided against it because there might have been a crime commited. Mother worried about those people for a long time, because she saw kids toys in the back seat of their car. I suppose the Bigfoot must have killed and devoured them before we arrived. I don't believe Richard Waters ever reported the couple as missing, because he said he didn't want to deal with the news reporters.
Malva and mother said the bear creature was mating with the cows, when they first spotted it. They said the cows were not afraid of it, and stood still while the creature was mounting them. Mother's theory was maybe the creature had been a deformed human child. The parents didn't want it so it was abandoned. Growing up wild it wouldn't behave normal. We all had a difficult time sleeping after the close encounter. I had never been so frightened in my entire life. We kept a light on for Merle at night for a couple of weeks, because he cried at night. My sisters didn't want to discuss our ordeal. I think they just wanted to forget about our terrifying experience.
Only once were the bear creatures able to breach our home defenses, although they tried many times to bust open our doors. Two of my Colony friends were spending the weekend with me. We planned on doing some duck hunting, so we turned in early to bed. That night both of the guys kept complaining about the other one touching them. I thought they were just trying to act silly, so I said knock it off and go to sleep. About an hour later they were still laughing and talking. So I got up and turned on the light half awake. What appeared to be a chimpanzee went scurrying from my room into the living room. It ran across the furniture then leaped through a glass window. It all happened so fast that I didn't get a good look. In the floor of my closet the creature had made a hole to climb through. The next day I cemented in our house's foundation crawl spaces and made a wooden patch for my closet floor. After that none of my friends would visit me. In fact they were all pissed off that I told them Dennis Dick's monster story was a lie. My popularity began to fade at school because my home was now considered spooky.
My hard working father was farming partners with forty or more cotton and peanut farmers, after we moved from Fairview. He provided the tractor, machinery, and seed. They provided the land, fertilizer, labor and irrigation if needed. In the end he owned all their mineral rights. Dad was a terrific salesman when it came to getting investors. People were lining up to become partners with him. Us kids were never allowed to report the bear creature sighting because dad didn’t want the extra attention. In fact he never allowed us to call the law about anything.
My old man always preferred taking care of problems himself. Since dad's brothers were hitmen for the mafia, he didn't want lawmen poking around into family affairs. My uncles Albert Gale Shamblin, John Warren Shamblin, Otis Grant Shamblin, Willis Raymond Shamblin, were the greatest hitmen the world has ever seen. They were never arrested for a single murder in their forty five years as assassins. Poison, 22 caliber rifles, ice picks, and explosives were their tools of the trade. Often at Shamblin family reunions bomb making contests were held for the children. At Bond family reunions children were taught the best ways to kill people and not go to jail.
When I was sixteen we moved from Hydro to Weatherford, which was okay by me. The first day we moved to south airport road in Weatherford our troubles began. In 1974 dad hired Black and White house movers from Fort Cobb. Their job was to transport a houses from Colony, to a location a mile and a half south on Airport Road and a quarter mile east. Our mailing address was Rt 5 Box 164 Weatherford Oklahoma 73096. This was the house that Dennis and Myrtle Skaggs lived in by the feedlot. I was hoping Myrtle's spirit wouldn't haunt it. The school was great and everyone was friendly. Most the guys were straight and treated you with respect. Most my classmates used drugs so I didn't socialize much. Only party people were popular in this town, and I had no plan to compromise my morals.
The first day the house was delivered somebody broke out the windows. This happened while we were eating dinner at the T Bone Steak House. A week later all our power tools were stolen from our small shed. We built a shop using heavy gauge sheet iron, which had huge steel locks. After replacing all the windows, doors, sheet rock, and cabinets we moved in. Bad things continued to happen around our house. Mother's veggie garden would get raided, and the fruit trees would get pulled from the ground. I blamed everything on the Kixmiller's who lived on the same farm. Eventually we got everything established in the garden and in the orchard. A strong seven strand barbed wire fence seemed to halt the vandals and thieves.
Me and my father built a sturdy barn to house my fifty breeds of chickens and jungle fowl. Later on we built some chicken coops, so all the breeds could be kept seperately. We also built pens for my brothers show lambs and calves. Merle and me always enjoyed being in 4-H and FFA. The delinquents began bothering us again. They were stealing my eggs, feed, ropes, and fishing equipment. My uncle Lester Bond came up and built some steel doors for the barn. It became a constant battle stopping the thieves from stealing our things, and destroying our automobiles. Even though I stayed up all night sometimes, I never caught the vandals and thieves in progress. We kept a huge chest freezer in the shop full of steak to eat. One night somebody ripped off the entire lid and stole all the meat. Some morning all our car lights would be broken. On other days someone would pop all our tires using a screw driver. It must be a strong guy I thought, to put a screw driver through a steel belted radial tire. Often I wished we had never moved here. I knew my parents were too stubborn to move.
Floyd Goss installed lighting all around the property. It didn't cost us a dime, because he stole the wire and street lights from Public Service where he worked. I began feeding wildlife as always, so I spread peanut butter and honey on our back fence posts. Nothing will attract deer like peanut butter, and nothing attracts opossums better than honey. This may have been what first attracted our unwanted big hairy guests. I began leaving animals snacks when we first purchased the property from George Johnston six months ago. There were plenty of red cedars beyond our property for animals and people to hide in. Just ten years earlier this was a cotton field. Birds had dispersed the cedar seeds.
We thought the trailer trash from across the road, were driving wooden spears through our car and truck radiators. Someone was hurling bricks from the canyon near our house. They smashed our lawn furniture and ruined our riding lawnmower. When we were entertaining guests, waves of homemade arrows would rain down upon us. It would take an entire book to list all the forms of shenanigans we suffered. We figured neighbors on drugs were carrying out this mischief. Nobody in their right might would challenge dad in this way. Why didn't the hoodlum use a cordless drill or shoot store bought arrows at us? This was a mystery to me that needed to be solved immediately.
After school I walked to the Southwestern Oklahoma State University library and asked them if a high school student could use their library. They were agreeable and said I could. For the next few months I did research on the bear creatures. First I began reading all the books on primates. Next I read all they had on bears. One week I went through the encyclopedias looking for clues. I even read all the books they had on prehistoric man and apes. I couldn't seem to find any information that could solve my mystery. Every day I went down the long rows of books seeking clues. It was like finding a needle in a haystack.
As a last resort I went to the college's biology department seeking answers. I came across a nice professor named Buena Ballard. We got to talking about my bear creature encounters on our second meeting. I didn't mention it the first day because I wanted to gradually bring up the subject. That way I could always back away from the topic, if she thought it was silly. She explained to me about the Bigfoots, and told me places to read about them. She was a believer and thought they were intriguing. That is how our long friendship began. Dr Ballard spent many hours at Payne's Lake watching the Bigfoots and fishing. I was probably the only sixteen year old boy who had a sixty three year old friend. Her husband was sickly so he stayed home part of the time. When I got old enough for college I took a few of her classes.
We never saw the Bigfoots closer than a quarter mile away,so we never suspected them of anything. My brother and I eventually got close enough to spy on them. There was a large camp of Bigfoots a quarter mile east of our house. It sat beside a small creek. The creek was inside a sandstone canyon. They ate beef, horse, pig, chickens, beavers, and deer from what bones we could see. We only spied on them two or three times a week, because there were a lot of them. I think it was a meeting place for Bigfoots or a migration route. Only during the summer, did the large groups arrive on our section. The older ones had grey in their body hair. In their camp they had many things they had found in trash barrels or from campers. These items included rusty knives, hatchets, fishing lures, rod and reels, tarps, magazines, and women's personal items. They hide their possessions in hollow trees near to their camps. The females often drag branches to cover their tracks
The relationship between me and my father became strained, when I was in high school. I began to voice my disapproval of the things he did. I told him it was wrong to tamper with people's brakes and steering, so they would have a car wreck. I was also upset he had Floyd Goss damage people's wiring, so their house would burn down. It was totally wrong to punish people, just because they didn't obey you. It's no wonder so many people called him a king or dictator behind his back. He use to hire boys to break out windows, because the local glass company gave him a percent of the sales. It was the same with the school bus mechanic, he paid dad to disable the school buses. All this dishonesty around me, made me feel guilty. I never did anything wrong in my life, but I was having trouble facing people. I decided I must change my dad into a good citizen. It wasn't going to be easy I knew.
Telling my father to change his wicked ways, was like a bomb going off. He instantly reacted with violence and fury. This particular day we were building new houses in Mustang Oklahoma. We were both on the roof nailing down shingles. Just as soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. He punched me in the nose, and I rolled off the roof. Next he took the nail gun and ruined my car. All the sudden his cursing stopped, and he went silent. On the way home he dropped off my car at a body shop in Weatherford. I felt lucky dad had gotten over my insubordination so quickly. Later on I discovered that wasn't the case. He pushed over my ladder,when I was painting three stories in the air. He backed the pickup into me,while I was sawing boards. Dad began telling all the tough looking guys he met, I said nasty insults about them. Before long I was getting into lots of fights.
Once when I was six dad threw me into a pen of savage sows, because my uncle Otis said I wasn't his. Each time I climbed out of the pig pen, dad would toss me back in. Finally my uncle confessed he wasn't telling the truth. Dad almost cut his tongue out, and forced him to work three months in the family's Mexico brothel. He could barely walk when he got out, and was infected with the HIV virus. All his family was desperate to get at dad's money.
During the cold months of winter our Bigfoots would take refuge in the Corn bat caves. Below ground they were able to keep warm. We discovered them in the Corn bat caves when I was a senior in high school. We were out chasing coyotes with my cousin David Chamber's greyhounds. He was my aunt Yvonne's son and they were from McLoud Oklahoma. David Duwayne was sixteen at the time like my brother. The dogs had chased a big male coyote into one of the gypsum caves. One of the fearless greyhounds followed it into the dark cavern. Dave and me lifted the rest of the dogs into their boxes, and grabbed two flashlights. As we walked and crawled through the caves, we couldnt find the brindle greyhound called Jack. This cave had many branches so we decided to split up. David and Merle started hunting for Jack in the upper chambers of the caves. I began searching the lower wet ones, that had running water. After about an hour had passed we met in the caves. I argued to call it quits because our flashlights were becoming dim. They wanted to continue the search, so I suggested we both return to the truck for fresh batteries. Merle and Dave ignored my advice and began going farther back in the cave.
One of us had to be sensible, so I decided to go for fresh batteries. My flashlight quit me before I was able to exit the cave. I followed the small trickle of water, as it made its way to the cave entrance. A sluggish creek flows alongside the cave entrance. It was dusk now and millions of bats began exiting the cave. I knew Merle and David were probably both terrified, being in the dark with millions of bats filling the spaces around them. I ran the quarter mile back to David's pickup truck for fresh batteries. All I found was a penlight on his key chain and a cigarette lighter. As I was rushing back to the cave, I saw a line of Bigfoots entering the cave where Merle was. We were always curious where they went in the winter. I thought about yelling and distracting them, hoping they would give chase. On the other hand I didn't want them pissed off, because my brother and cousin were trapped beneath the earth at thier mercy. Maybe I should go for help, but I knew my brother didn't have much time. He and David were counting on me to rescue them. If I did go for help they probably wouldn't be alive when I returned.
Soundlessly I stalked the Bigfoots into the darkness. From the sound of their movements I was able to navigate the dark tunnels. Finally the Bigfoots filed past the cave fork where Merle and David were. I could tell the location by the rushing of air through the cave. I snapped on the penlight and began searching for the guys. I came across Jack the greyhound and the coyote which was dead. Jack's brindle coat was stained crimson with the coyotes blood. A few hundred yards farther I began hearing a loud thump. At the time I didn't know it was David beating his flashlight against the cave wall in a panic. It was his hope I would locate them from the sound. I followed the thumping and finally reached them. Both of them were thrilled to see me, thinking their nightmare had ended. I told them it was beginning to look like rain. We all realized the rain might flood these caves. I failed to mention the Bigfoots, so they wouldn't become upset.
The noise had also caught the attention of about a dozen Bigfoots, and they were scrambling in our direction. They were between us and the entrance, so we quickly went deeper into the cave. We had to locate a surface entrance in the pasture above. They slowed down a bit to examine the dead coyote. One of them lit a torch which they pushed in behind us. The fire almost ignited my shoes and socks, since I let Merle and David take the lead. The cave became so narrowed that the Bigfoot adults could no longer follow. Young ones enthusiastically continued the chase. Greyhounds are so deep chested that I had to pull Jack along on his side. Their torch finally burned out, but they no longer needed it. The young Bigfoots were close enough behind to use our light source. We kept switching tunnels but couldn't shake them.
They started grabbing at my ankles trying to slow me down. The cave opened up a little larger and a small Bigfoot tried to pass me. Jack bit off his ear and the creature stopped the chase. Another one tried to crawl over me, so I crushed it against the cave roof. Young Bigfoots were crying all around me because I kicked them in the face. When the cave opened into a house sized chamber many got past me. When they reached Merle and David they crawled upon their backs. This didn't keep the guys from continuing their crawl to the surface. I guess pure adrenaline was propelling their bodies forward. These half grown Bigfoots were about five foot tall and weighed around a hundred pounds. We began seeing light at the end of the tunnel. Within ten minutes we were safely out of the cave. The Bigfoots slid down from the boys backs.
Dave ran like a rocket to his truck for a rifle. When the little Bigfoots saw the gun, they ran for cover. The adult Bigfoots were coming to gather their young. They were no longer showing aggression towards us, as they stared down the barrel of David's gun. I began hearing the deadly thunder of David's rifle, as he laid down a barrage of bullets. They were aimed in the direction of our hairy pursuers. I hit the ground pulling my brother down with me. Dave was shooting wildly and I didn't want us getting shot. Dave thought he might have hit a couple of them but wasn't sure. As we began loading up into David's truck a huge boulder smashed his hood. A Bigfoot had crept close through the tall blue stem grass. Later that evening we had a heavy rain and I thanked the Lord we got out in time. We quit going to the bat caves north of Corn or south of Weatherford
A few years later shit began to hit the proverbial fan. Our ripe strawberries, currants, and blackberries began disappearing, before mother had the opportunity to pick them. Our sheets and pillow cases on the clothes line would get ripped to pieces. We didn't know whether it was the Bigfoots or our neighbors. Most our neighbors grew marijuana and cooked methamphetamines on the creek, and were afraid people would steal it. They would shoot when you got too close to thier camp. There was a satan worship church nearby with about a hundred members. They were often practicing strange rituals on the creek and giving animal sacrifice.
One Friday evening when dad was on his way out of town for the weekend, he discovered his Dodge truck was totally destroyed. The red truck only had four thousand miles on it. Dad had purchased every option there was for it. He was totally in love with that truck.The seat had been completely torn out and was missing. The dash was smashed and the body was covered in dents. This dastardly act sent my ill tempered dad into a homicidal rage. He went door to door in the neighborhood trying to find the guilty person. While he was gone I threw all of his guns into the pond behind our house. His pickup wasn't worth someone's life. I made certain he wouldn't shoot anyone that night. Dad never really forgave me for that, although I knew it was the right thing to do. Dad customarily shot first and ask questions later. He already had the district attorney and sheriff in his back pocket. They were greedy enough to let him bribe by check.
I had a pen of really huge Yorkshire sows that I purchased from Oklahoma State University. At the time I was selling show pigs for 4H and FFA. I took over the garden area for pigs, because mother finally gave up trying to have a garden. The majority of her vegetables would end up stolen every year. Those six hundred pound sows were really aggressive from being tormented by the vandals. Seems I was always dressing their stab wounds and cuts with salve. Most of the combative sows had already farrowed, and were nursing piglets in the garden. Thieves or Bigfoots have stolen their piglets in the past. That is the reason we kept such a close eye on them.
Mother went to check on the last sow to farrow, and came running back to the house. She was screaming one of the sows is eating a gorilla leg. As I quickly began to dress and slip on my cowboy boots, I was thinking she probably had seen a large dog or coyote being eaten. I did know pigs love the taste of meat. Once there was a car wreck by Carnegie, where the car landed in a pig pen. By the time help came the people were already eaten. If my chickens or turkeys ever get caught in the pig pen, they were quickly devoured. As I came running upon the scene, I found a sow with a large leg in its mouth. The leg was covered in thick brown hair. The calf of the leg was nearly as large as the thigh. She had the foot in her throat. The sows kept trying to bite me, because they were protecting the baby pigs. I had to keep kicking them away with my cowboy boots. The sow wouldn’t release the leg, so I could take it to my college for inspection. I was currently a senior at SWOSU. I went inside the house and got the pistol mother kept in her purse, so I could shoot the sow. Then I would be able to retrieve the leg. When I returned two sows had began eating on the thigh portion of the leg. It looked like I was going to have to shoot three sows to get at the mysterious leg.
Mother came up behind me with a stick of firewood, and it was lights out. She had grown to love those sows because she fed them table scraps every day. By the time I came to, the leg had long since been consumed. After a few minutes of pondering what we just had witnessed, I came to the conclusion it was one of the Bigfoots. The creatures we encountered in the cotton field, bat caves, and on the creek. We must be living near a place special to them, or why else would they spend six long years trying to run us off. I told mother it was just a cows leg the dogs had drug up. The truth would have made her too frightened to sleep at night, or leave the safety of the house. Mother later that day, apologized for hitting me over the head with a stick of firewood. She said the neighbors would have called the law, if I began killing all three sows. She said she did not want me arrested for animal cruelty. Mother wouldn't admit she had feelings for pigs.
The Kiowa, Apache, Comanche, and Arapahoe believed there were two species of Bigfoots. Both of which worked under the direction of the Great Father. The good ones like the ones I was encountering carried dead people's spirits to the happy hunting grounds. The bad ones were called Buffalo Men. Their job was to gather bad men spirits and take them to a lonely place. For eternity they would be chased by monsters. That was my dad's translation. The chiefs said the Buffalo Men have two short horns growing out of their forehead like a buffalo. In addition they had thick wooly fur, cloven hooves, and a terrible odor. Most people would consider them demons. Cemeteries are favorite haunts for them. Sometimes in the night hours at Indian pow wows, both types of Bigfoots have been known to join the dancing. I don't know whether this was fact or just legend.
I bought three male Old English Mastiffs to protect us from Bigfoots and thieves. Each of them weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds and were lean and strong. Lots of expensive chickens were getting stolen, and I was certain Bigfoot was the blame for it. My flocks had a thirty generation pedigree, because I always trap nested my hens. I figured some show breeders might steal a bird or two. I had put fifteen years of effort into my rare breed chickens, so I was protective of them. Because our gamecocks were very expensive some cockers might be inclined to steal them. I put wing band on the birds for identification purposes. Many of my rare breed chickens were European and Asian imports, and I had a small fortune invested in them.
Rottweilers and German Shepherds we had died from either a broken neck or broken ribs. Some of my friends brought over their trail hounds, and we scoured the local countryside for signs of the Bigfoot. The Bigfoot camp on the creek had been uninhabited for the past two years. Many of our neighbors lost several dogs to wooden spears and primitive arrows. They figured some evil psychopath must be living on the local creeks. I don’t believe I ever convinced them that Bigfoots existed.
It wasn’t long before cattle and horses near us began getting mutilated. Their legs were bound with heavy gauge barbed wire, and meat cut from their living body. Knives were always getting stolen from our tackle boxes. In fact all the hunters in my area were losing hunting knives and tents. Seems ole Bigfoot likes to steal what he can use. Cigarette lighters were always coming up missing from cars and back porches. Six of George Johnston's horses were missing thier eyeballs. We found one of my dogs skinned alive between Dale Nickel's and Tommy Helt's house
A hitman tried to throw a bucket of acid on my mother, while she was home alone. She was planting some flowers and didn't notice his presence. My nephew Chris Brown was spending the day with us. He saw the stranger hastily approaching his grandma. This worried Chris so he opened the door to warn his grandma. Mother turned to face the stranger, as Bullet pushed past Chris. The big dog leaped on the hitman, and he swung the acid on him. Mother grabbed Chris and locked him in the house. Not even acid prevented bullet from crushing the legs of this malicious man. Mother took down the tag number, as the man crawled to his car. She beat him with her shovel, then stomped him into the ground. My dog Bullet protected her and the acid burned him up. Doc Schomp had to put him down a few hours later.
One cold winter day I drove into the yard and noticed my sister Malva's car. I had spent the last three hours on the creek cutting firewood. I was glad she had came over to visit. Generally her husband Robert Burrahm made her stay at home in Weatherford. Malva came running to greet me with tears in her eyes, which was unusual because she was always jealous of me. She knew my folks thought I was the best thing since apple pie. She hated to hear them brag on me, for hours on end. She had two cute toddlers Phillip and Jared. Phil was a year older than Jared. I was very proud of all three of my nephews, and did my best to spoil them.
Malva said Red your mastiff has a baby in his mouth. I was off like a rocket fearing Red had turned on one of my baby nephews. When I found Red in the backyard he was chewing on something that looked like a head. Emotion spread across me as I began to cry. I kicked Red in the side, hoping he would drop the thing. I wanted to examine it closely. Instead he ran south down the road, carrying away his prize. I carefully looked around for the rest of the body, but my dog Butch beat me to it. He went running in the pasture with it. I sat down in the yard grief stricken. Neither dog let me get close enough, to take it away from them. Anger began to replace my grief and I wanted to kill the dogs. Suddenly the front door came open, and out walked all my precious nephews. I was so happy I nearly fainted. I finally gave up chasing the dogs, and never saw the remains again.
Mother found the head and body a few days later, when I was at college. She no longer recalls where she buried it thirty years ago. My sister Malva saw the baby Bigfoot when it was still alive. She said it could run real fast unlike a human baby. She said it appeared to be about one year old, and was laughing as Red was chasing it down. She said the dogs were fighting over it for about a half hour. Her and mother were watching out the front window of our house. She said only a few minutes before I arrived, that the injury began. I felt very bad for the baby Bigfoot. It would have made a great pet. My sister said it was very athletic as it played with the dogs. She said it had fine hair on its face, and large hands ears and feet.
My family was joyously celebrating Christmas Eve in 1984 with many of our relatives. We were busy opening some of our presents, when my brother began peering out the kitchen window. He softly whispered Dennis somebody is carrying away your chickens over the back fence. He didn't want to upset any of our guests. It was getting dark and the yard light couldn’t illuminate the area because of the barn. I sprang to my feet and ran to the back fence in socks. My boots were off because I was about ready for bed. As I was climbing over the fence, a thought struck me. Maybe this thief is packing heat. The heister came into view with the chickens squaking in each hand. Cowardly he wouldn't turn and speak to me. The air was so full of tension you could cut it with a knife. When to make the first move, I just wasn't sure.
I forcefully grabbed his arm spinning him around, and demanded he release my birds immediately. This huge fist came out of nowhere and plowed into my jaw. The force drove me back six feet into a group of cedar trees. This made me furious because I wasn’t being hostile towards him. In a few short seconds I responded with four quick jabs to his stomach. I heard him lose his wind,as his body slumped over. Buried my foot into his crotch and realized he was nude. All the sudden shivers ran through me as I recognized the beast. I was now a scrappy six foot nine inch kick boxer, who weighed well over three hundred pounds. I hammered his thick skull and hairy body with my feet and fists. Next he began biting me all over my head. He almost scratched my skin off with these huge finger nails. The Bigfoot flung me into the cedar trees. where my brother had built a tree house. I climbed into the tree house, and jumped upon my attacker's shoulders. This drove us both into the sandy ground. I yelled for my brother and cousin Archie aka the ice pick Nelson to get back across the barbed wire fence. Neither were a match for this giant of a man. He began clamping his huge hands around my throat, I knew I would be a goner if I didn't have some help.
My nephew Christopher Brown came running to my aid. He jumped upon the Bigfoots back and pressed a stun gun to its head. The Bigfoot relaxed his grip and I screamed release the dogs. We had them in pens because of relatives being here. My mother's cousin Dorthy Nelson from Tonkawa Oklahoma was running my way. She had pulled her pistol from her purse planning to rescue me. In the darkness I was afraid she could accidentally shoot me. When she heard me scream for the release of the dogs, she stopped and unlatched their doors. The excited mastiffs were already foaming at the mouth, ready to bite my attacker. Mastiffs have the jaw strength of a african lion. They hit the Bigfoot like a freight train, crushing him into the ground. I was terrified they would maul me by mistake in their frenzy. The Bigfoot screamed in pain as the punishing jaws tore at his flesh. From the screams, I knew it was not human. Soon the bloody Bigfoot was up and running with the mastiffs in hot pursuit.
When they took me to the emergency room, I was covered in large bites and deep scratches. I have no idea what the emergency department thought about all my unusual wounds. Dad said I looked like a bear had got a hold of me. The beast fractured my skull in five places and bruised me from head to toe. It took eighty stitches to sew up all my bites. The bites and scratches took forever to heal, probably because of the Bigfoot's bacteria. If I had been able to grab one of the baseball bats in the tree house, things could have turned out a little differently. Maybe then I could have captured the mighty Bigfoot. I didn't hate the Bigfoots now, but I did have more respect for them. Maybe it considered my arm grab as an attack on it.
Bigfoots grow about twice as fast as a human, and age at the same rate. Most do not live past thirty years old. We noticed this the forty years we were observing them near Colony Eakly and Weatherford. They are able to milk cows in the pasture for thier babies. Males are extremely interested in women having their periods. That is the reason they steal so many women's panties. One year when I was living near Ghost Mound the Bigfoots stole every females panties in a eight square mile area. Sheriff deputies never solved the break ins. Finally coon hunters found them in hollow trees on the creek. This really scared my mother and sisters since we had no policemen nearby, and dad was absent on weekends. When my cousin Renee and Vickie were having their periods as children, the Bigfoots would follow us through pastures and fields for hours. They never scared Renee again because she carried a pistol. If they got too close, she would fire off a few rounds in the air.
Once we were deer hunting at Fort Cobb lake and dad left his rifle standing against a tree. We were having breakfast and making plans for the day. Suddenly a loud bang erupted behind us and a loud buzz went past my head. A Bigfoot had seized dad's gun and got a shot off. Since it was a bolt action rifle, the Bigfoot couldn't chamber another round. It was gone in a flash and we never found the gun. I suppose the lesson learned is be very careful with your gun. From that day forward I never let my guns out of my sight while hunting. A wacko could get hold of them, just as easy as a Bigfoot.
When me and my cousins were skinny dipping in Worth Richmond's and Roy Payne's Lake, the Bigfoots never tried to reach us. I think maybe they can't swim. Of course they could have grabbed us while swimming in the creeks. Maybe they just aren't good ambush predators. A few times when the Bigfoots chased me and my brother we took refuge in the center of a farm pond. It seems they detest water above their knees. Once mother ran Bigfoots off with a high pressure water hose. She was babysitting for our neighbors Larry and Debbie Woodrome. The two boys were Johnny Woodrome and Scotty Wooford. They went outside to play while mother was preparing lunch. A few minutes later mother says the boys came running to the house. They told mother there was a monster in the barn with the show heifers. The cattle were haltered to a hitching rail, so they would walk with their head held high. The Bigfoots were raping them, and the heifers couldn't escape. This upset mother so she grabbed the power hose and chased them away.
When I fought the Bigfoot it was much lighter than what it looked. It was the size of Shaquille O'Neal yet it barely weighed two hundred pounds. There body must contain a whole lot less water. From the distance we saw the beasts frequently urinating and defecating watery stool. Generally they cleaned their bottom with leaves or grass. I never saw any solid waste to bring in for research, when I was in college. In a straight race they are much faster than a human. In fact running stimulates their prey instinct. They cannot move quickly if you run a zig zag pattern. Something about their legs won't let them make fast turns. Bigfoots were always trying to copy the things we did around the farm. It seemed they had a strong desire to learn.
My folks Bud and Wanda moved from this location in 1992 to Pink Oklahoma. Dad wanted to be near Lake Thunderbird his favorite fishing hole. Three of his sisters Yvonne, Avis, and Evadean lived in the area. I moved my girlfriend Molly Ahrens into the house and we stuck it out until 1994. Eventually all my mastiff's were slaughtered by the Bigfoots. They were no match against the volleys of wooden arrows, or the cement blocks that came hurling across the fence. We tried putting up electric fences however they didn’t deter them. They were intelligent enough to ground the wires. Bigfoots and drug dealers began urinating in our well house, so the water wasn't safe to drink. I had no choice but to abandon the property.
It seemed every place I moved the Bigfoots would soon follow. Neighbors would soon complain that someone was trying to scare them wearing a gorilla or bear suit. We would soon hear the same pounding on our walls at night, and the eerie Bigfoot calls. I would then contact the Bigfoot research people, and sure enough Bigfoots were being spotted in my locality. I have no clue why these creatures have been shadowing me my whole life. Finally I moved far away to Rich Hill Missouri so the Bigfoots couldn't find me. Sure enough the local Amish began seeing the Bigfoots, and blamed me for bringing these evil creatures with me. They are quite capable of covering long distances. Once my brother tried to run over a Bigfoot with his car near Fay Oklahoma. We chased him for six miles before he managed to take the ditch. The Bigfoot reached a top speed of fifty miles an hour, but averaged about thirty miles per hour. It was an older individual with some gray hair on its body.
A friend of mine has said most of the Bigfoots have moved on and left the area. He believes a few big males remain. I guess they are staying behind to protect their territory. Sometimes I wonder if any of the Bigfoots are still alive that I grew up with. If they are, would they still remember me. Are the new generations of Bigfoots more trusting or more elusive?