Legends of Bigfoot have plagued our bedtime stories, Hollywood movies and basic curiosity for years, but the true origins of this ape-like mystery has humble beginnings
Zoanthropy is a psychiatric syndrome within which the patient has the delusional belief of turning into an animal.
A NEW YORK WEREWOLF.
Strange Delusion of a Man Who Crawls on all Fours.
NEW YORK, October . 21.-
James Rubinstein thinks he is a werewolf. He walks on all tours and howls like a wolf.
A werewolf was in legendary lore it is supposed to be a human who, having given
offense to some supernatural being, was
metamorphosed by the latter into the
shape of a wolf. The soul, however, retained all its human attributes, passions and desires.
Rubinstein came to this country several years ago from Germany, A week ago he began showing signs of the approach of his mysterious sickness. His wife noticed that he would frequently drop on all fours and crawl around as if in search of something. Yesterday Rubinstein crawled up to his wife and barked fiercely. Then he snarled and snapped at her, and when she fled from the room he howled like a lost soul. The frightened woman sent
for an ambulance and had her husband taken to the hospital.
Naugatuck Daily News, October 1897
And now In the present I stumbled on an article on how to be a werewolf. Make people believe you are…
Now switch to the present and you can find how to guides on being a werewolf, costumes and online groups to role play with you, almost normalizing the fascination.
The difference is he believed he was one, and the other just pretend to be one. But because of these cosplay groups, we may never know if someone actually does believe they are one…
Nestled deep in the woods of Jackson County, Oregon, there can be found a trap which was built to capture a live Bigfoot.
— Read on www.unexplained-mysteries.com/news/357341/bizarre-bigfoot-trap-is-still-being-maintained-after-48-years
We managed to catch two bears so we knew it worked,” Olson says. “It was a good trap.”
— Read on web.archive.org/web/20080704120505/http://archive.mailtribune.com/archive/2006/0903/local/stories/colmforsept3.htm
This is older article…obviously. But I like to post blasts from the near past as well. But, this article mentioned that it caught two bears in there.
I didn’t know that before. Or maybe I forgot it happened. That would not surprise me.
Have a great Monday everyone’
In 1975, the Royal Scottish Museum received this incredible sketch, purportedly drawn in 1936 by someone who spotted Nessie emerging from the water near Drumnadrochit on the west shore of Loch Ness. Apparently the drawing has been carefully cataloged in the Museum’s “Monster Files.” From the Inverness Courier: From devil dogs to sea serpents to the…
— Read on boingboing.net/2022/04/29/wonderful-1936-witness-sketch-of-loch-ness-monster-looks-like-a-cute-pixar-character.html
TREASURE HUNTING CAN TAKE A TURN IN THE WRONG DIRECTION Cast: Stephen B. Shaffer (Doc) ~ Steve Shaffer The Treasures in America team was in the Uinta Mountains, searching for the Lost Josephine Mine in 2018. During this 5 day excursion, Steve Shaffer came to help assist us with the buried cache and the lost mine. We were not expecting this story to happen! “Treasure hunting has always come with baggage. Sometimes it’s paranormal, sometimes its something else that man can’t understand. You never
— Read on www.unchartedexpedition.com/post/scary-bigfoot-sighting-utah
A Strange, Strange Story…
Chilliewhack In his younger days
Charley belongs to a hamlet near.
He was known as one of the best hunters in the province and had many thrilling adventures in his time. Did he know anything about the hairy ape-like men who were supposed to inhabit the distant mountains?
The old warrior smiled, and answered that he had had a slight acquaintance with them. He had been in what he thought was one of their houses. “And that is not all .” said he. “I met and spoke to one of their women, and I shot, But let Charcley tell the story himself The strange people of whom there are but few now rarely seen
and seldom met said the old
hunter. “are known by the name of Sasquatch, or the hairy mountain men.
-The first time I came to know about these people continued the old man “I did not see anybody. Three young men and myself were picking same berries on a rocky mountain slope five or six miles from the old town of Yale. In our search for berries. We
suddenly stumbled upon a large opening in
the side of the mountain. This was discovery greatly surprised all of us, for we knew every foot of the mountain. and never knew, nor heard there was even the vicinity outside the mouth of the cave, there was an enormous boulder. We peered into the cavity but couldn’t see anything.
“We gathered some pitch wood, lighted it and began to explore. But before we got very far from the entrance of the cave, we came upon a sort of stone house or enclosure: It was a crude affair. We
couldn’t make a thorough examination. for our pitchwood kept going out. We left. We were intending to return in a couple of days and go on exploring. Old Indians, to whom
we told the story of our discovery warned us not to venture near the cave again, as it was surely occupied by the Sasquatch.
That was the first time I heard about the
hairy men that inhabit the mountains.
We, however, disregarded the advice
of the old men and sneaked off to explore the cave, but to our great disappointment found the boulder rolled back into the
mouth and fitting it so nicely that you
might suppose it had been there made for that purpose. Charley
intimated that he hoped to have enough
money someday to buy sutticient
dynamite to blow open the cave of the Sasquatch and see how far it extends
through the mountain. The Indian then took
up the thread of his story and told of his
first meeting with one of these men. A number of other Indians and himself
Were bathing in A small lake near Yule. He
was dressing when suddenly out from
behind a rock, only a few feet away stepped a nude hairy man. “Oh he was so
big man!” continued the old hunter, he looked calmer then me for moment his eyes
were so kind looking that I was about to
speak to him when he turned about and
walked into the forest. At the same place two weeks later, Charley together with several of his companions saw the giant. But this time he ran towards the mountain. This was twenty years after the discovery of the cave…
A Collection of Extraordinary and Weird Tales
About the Hairy Giants of Chehalis Hinterlands
As told in MacLean’s Magazine by J. W. Burns.
January 6th, 1937…
The vast mountain solitudes of British Columbia, of which but very little of it has been explored, is populated by a hairy race of giants-not ape-like men. Reports from time to time, covering a period of many years, have come from the province that hairy giants had been occasionally seen by Indians and white trappers in the mountains vastness, far from the pathway of civilization. These reports, however, were always vague and for that reason no person could be found, or, at least, nobody came forward with the information that they had obtained a close-up view of these strange creatures.
Persistent rumors led the writer to make diligent enquiries among older Indians.
The question relating to the subject was always, or nearly always, evaded with the trite excuse: “The white man don’t believe, he make joke of the Indian.” But after three years of plodding, we have come into possession of information more definite and authentic than has come to light at any
other previous time. Disregarding rumor and hearsay, we have prevailed upon men who claim they had actual close contact with these hairy giants and are willing to tell
what they know about them. Their story is set down here in good faith….here is the first witnesses account. He wishes to remain anonymous and will be referred as XY.
X Y lives on the Chehalis Reserve. I believe that he is a reliable as well as an intelligent Indian. He gave me the following thrilling
account of his experience with these people.
Encountering the Giant…
“One evening in the month of May some years ago,”
said the hero, “I was walking along the foot of the mountain about a mile from the Chehalls reserve. I thought I heard a noise something like that of a grunt nearby. Looking in the direction in which it came,
I was startled to see what I took at first sight to be a huge bear crouched upon a
boulder twenty or thirty feet away. I raised my ritle to shoot it, but, as I did the creature stood up and let out a piercing yell. It was a man-giant, no less than six feet and one-half in height, and covered with hair. He was in a rage and jumped from the boulder to the ground. I fled. but not before I felt his breath upon my cheek. I never ran so fast before or since through brush and under.
I ran toward the Statloo or Chehalis river. Toward where my dugout was. From time to time I looked over my shoulder. The giant was quickly overtaking me, only a few feet separated us; another look and the distance measured to be less than fifty-
then the Chehalis river was there and in a moment it shot across the stream to the opposite bank. The swift river. however.
did not in the least daunt the giant for he began to wade it immediately. “I arrived home almost worn out from running and
felt sick. Taking an anxious look around the
house, I was relieved to find the wife and children inside. I bolted the door and barricaded it with everything at hand. Then with my rifle ready I stood near the door
and awaited his coming.”
X added that if he had not been so much excited he could easily have shot the giant when he began to wade the river.
“After an anxious waiting of twenty minutes.” resumed the Indian. “I heard a noise approaching like the trampling
of a horse. I looked through a crack in the old wall. It was the giant. Darkness’
had not yet set in and I had a good look at him. Except that he was covered with hair and twice the bulk of the average man, there was nothing to distinguish him from
the rest of us. He pushed, against the wall of the old house with such force it shook back and forth. The old cedar shook and timber creaked and groaned so much under the strain that I was afraid that it
would fall down and kill us. I whispered to the old woman to take the children under the bed.” The Indian pointed out what remained of the old house in which he lived at the time, explaining that the giant treated it so roughly that it had to be abandoned the following winter. “After
prowling and grunting like an animal around the house continued the Indian. “he went
away. We were glad, for the children and the wife were uncomfortable under the old bedstead.
Next morning I found his tracks in the mud around the house, the biggest of either man or beast I had ever seen. The tracks measured twenty two Inches in length, but narrow in proportion to their length.”
To be continued….
There are a few things I loved about this article over others. I liked that the witness called it a man giant and specifically mentioned it wasn’t an ape.
I was happy to read that the author of original article was looking for someone he found credible. Followed up by going to see the cabin and the area for himself. This was 1937, this was BBF, my new new term for anytime before he was named bigfoot officially.
This man wanted to remain nameless so he was t looking for any fame or fortune. This is a long article with a few encounters, so I’ll post another part tomorrow morning.
Have a great Saturday morning!
Although I have a lovely picture above of theee two strong marvelous creatures fishing together, this encounter is not a friendly one…
HARRISON MILLS, Feb. 23 A terrific battle a fight for life of prodigious strength matched against savage ferocity between a hairy giant of the Sasquatch and a huge bear, which after ten minutes of wild struggle, fury and rage, ended in the strangling of bruin when the wild man of the Chehalis hinterlands crushed the life out of him. The story of this unusual drama of the wilderness was told by three Harrison River Indians who were spectators of the singular incident one evening last week as they were walking along the Chehalis river close to the canyon
. “It was a skookum (strong) fight, ugh’, ugh’,” said Jimmy Craneback, one of the. trio of spectators, “and as no one of our little party had ever seen a hairy giant of the Sasquatch in a fight before, I’m telling you we got the biggest kick of our life. It was a hair – raising fight between savage and brute.” Asked how they came to witness the unusual battle, Jimmy said, “We were on our way home after an all – day unsuccessful hunt in the Chehalis mountains. We had just crossed the government road at the Chehalis river a mile or so north of the Indian village, when all at once we heard a roar in the forest ahead of us that shook the firs and cedars around and startled the crows and bluejays from their roost. We stopped to listen. Down the old trail ahead of us we could hear groans, growls, thuds and the snap and crack of rotten branches as If old Nick himself had gone off his noodle and was running amuck through the dark forest,” The hunter said that they were not afraid for their own safety as each of them carried a rifle. “But we were worried,” went on Jimmy, “that some old woman of the Chehalis might be in the forest digging roots for baskets and was being mauled by a bear, for bear at this time of the year are lean, vicious and hungry. “In silence we loaded our rifles hurriedly. “Fifty yards or so down the wooded trail we came upon a sight that made our eyes pop. In awe we stopped dead in our tracks. In the fading twilight and shadowy forest we first thought we were looking on two bears fighting each other to the death.
As we stood beside a log twenty yards away we could see the great struggle of strength. There was a crunching of bones as the monsters in their rage came to grips with each other – and tumbled and tossed about in their fury on the forest floor within a few feet of the Chehalis. But there was something about one of the monsters that puzzled us.” The hunters were now so excited with this hitherto unwitnessed drama of the wilderness that they wished to see the victor of the contest before they raised their rifles. “We wouldn’t have raised our rifles when we did,” explained Jimmy, “but it looked as if they were about to roll over the bank into the river any moment and we didn’t want to lose such big game. But then we never shot, for as we raised our rifles we were startled by a yell it had in it something human and came from one of. the combatants, which to our astonished ears sounded like “poo – woo – uoo.’ ” ‘Good, gosh,’ said Ike Joe as we lowered our rifles, ‘boys its a Sasquatch and a bear we’ll take the side of the giant, its well to be on their side. He’s put up a great fight let’s step in and help him.’ ” The boys were In a sweat, but happy the Sasquatch gave a “pooh – woo,” which timely utterance had no doubt saved his life.
“Finally,” said Jimmy, “the giant got his powerful hairy arms around the bear’s neck. It must have been a hu’m – dinger of a hold for the bear began to gasp for breath, and gasping pawed the air as his tongue was hanging out. The wild man had won the fight. With a grunt he flung the carcass of the bear into the river.” Asked was the Sasquatch a big fellow, Jimmy looked surprised. “You should know,” he grinned, “that it takes more than an infant to choke the daylights out of a big bear.” It does.
A hair raising encounter with A hairy
giant, A first hand account from
an Indian, a chief’s grandson, who once came face to face with a hairy Sasquatch and barely escaped with his life, the witness is a highly respected resident of the Songhees Reserve, here is how he described the creature, “His eyes glowed like the noonday sun, and the hair on his body was like moss on the rocks. His voice sounded like the roar of a surf from a heavy sea.”
The old Indian related that in his youth he was searching for a young deer up a mountain slope. When he reached the summit there was no deer. He was about to retrace his steps when he heard a loud roar. “At first I was like a frozen man, even the rocks were trembling. I looked up and there, not far away from me was a hairy man maybe 18 feet tall. As tall as a mountain tree. He was holding the deer. I remember that my spirit animal guide was a wolf, that it made me fast, so I turned and ran like the wind, he was throwing trees at me. You can still see the trees up there on the mountain rotting.”
From the description of the mountain he gave, it is Mount Matheson, near Rocky Point. He said they have always lived on Vancouver Island, but now that it’s settled they have moved to the interior…
Excerpt from the Times Colonist, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, 26 Apr 1957,