Number of Witnesses: 1
Length of Observation: 15 seconds
Animal Description: Looking over the sights of the little carbine, I observed this being to be about 7 or 8 feet tall, with well-muscled, long hairy arms hanging down to the waist. The hands looked almost human, I remember noticing these things as I slowly put down the gun. This creature was completely covered in long dark, brown hair, from head to feet and appeared to have a huge, barrel chest. Some other striking features that I noticed were a flat, square jawed face; a flat, dark looking nose; no noticeable hair on the face; and a “sloping fore head”. I don’t remember seeing any sign of ears on the animal – too much long hair around the side of the head – and there was no discernable neck.
Aprox. Height: 6-7 feet
Aprox. Weight: 500 #
Head/Facial Description: flat, square jawed face; a flat, dark looking nose; no noticeable hair on the face; and a “sloping fore head”. I don’t remember seeing any sign of ears on the animal – too much long hair around the side of the head – and there was no discernable neck.
Can Witness Provide a Sketch of Animal Seen?: Yes
Any Odor? If so, Description: Yes – wet animal smell, very phewy!
Physical Evidence? (hold Ctrl key to select more than one): Tracks
INTRODUCTION: I’m sixty years old now, born April 3, 1948 in Newport News, Virginia. It is time to face the reality of what I observed that early morning so long ago. It has been my decision, until recently, since that early August morning in 1964, to refrain from any admissions about my sighting a very peculiar animal. I was only sixteen years old back then and unknowledgeable about any unusual creatures in nature roaming anywhere except for maybe in the wilds of Africa. On that very special day so long ago, I was just a teenager accompanying his father on another deer hunting adventure into an area that we had visited quite often. Since I was five years old, my dad, Reginald, Sr., had been bringing me along on many of his camping, fishing, and hunting trips into a myriad of places all over America from Maine to California. Sometimes my mother would come along, but usually, it was just the “boys”.
PRELUDE: The sighting occurred in southern California’s Los Padres National Forest, off Highway 33, above Ojai and Meiners Oaks, high up on a mountain in an area that was called Mount Pinos, or “Pine Mountain”. My research map reveals that this area is located in Ventura County. *
I was deer hunting that morning by myself. For those unfamiliar with the topography of this area, it is a mixture of high mountains, rolling hills, and various sized valleys containing small spring fed creeks, a couple of streams, lots of thick Oak groves, miles of Pinion Pine flats, and very dense underbrush. It was populated with Mule Deer, Black-tail Deer, Mountain Quail, Cottontail and Pigmy Rabbits, Coyotes, Foxes, Bobcats, a few Mountain Lions, and something else. The day started out being quite extraordinary anyway because my father was going to allow me to hunt with one of his rifles by myself. I would be down the trail about 200-yards from his location. Dad owned two fine “big game” rifles. His favorite was a scoped sighted, bolt-action, 1903 A-3, Springfield 30/06 rifle, that he had spent customizing on winter evenings in 1952. The other weapon was a .32 Winchester Special, lever-action carbine that he had purchased from the San Bernardino Police Department in 1932. I was using the carbine that morning. Now, you need to understand something about my father. He was a very strict disciplinarian. As a veteran of WWII, and a retired Navy Chief (EMC), his word was final. You did not argue with “the Chief”.
Only my mother could win an argument with him (as she did most often). My dad would never “break any laws”, but he was quite fond of “bending” the regulatory interpretations of things – like the hunting manual. The rules said I was “to be in the company of an adult until eighteen years old”. Dad allowed that meant I could be “right down the fire break from him a few hundred yards”. Wow – okay. Man, I was happy as a…whatever. I was just glad to be hunting on my own for the first time. In fact, this really meant something special to me because I realized my father trusted me enough to “hunt alone”.
THE PRELIMINARY INCIDENT: My particular “sighting” occurred very rapidly! Here, for the first time, in writing, I am telling you about that experience I have now come to cherish. I realize today just how lucky I was to see this entity. And, I am proud of myself for not doing something out of fear, greed, or misunderstanding during the exciting moment in time. The late August morning was rather cool for this southern California time of year. Usually, it was a dry, hot type of heat that was common to the time of year and our specific location. I never could figure out why the California game department allowed deer hunting so early in the year. Some “peanut-head” hunter or idiot camper was always starting a fire in the dry, brittle, bush areas we had to hunt around. Just before daylight, I left my father sitting on a huge log up in a big pine flat and walked down a cut fire lane about 200-yards from him. Choosing to over look a “saddle back” location about fifty yards away down hill, I plopped my fanny down beside a series of Oak bushes and awaited daylight. The smell of this cool morning air and the sounds of chirping birds made for a great relaxing moment. I was always glad to be hunting up on this tall mountain range, many thousands of feet away from the paved roads with it’s hordes of dummy “road hunters”. The prospect of bagging a nice buck was foremost on my mind that morning, too. What a tribute to my hunting skills it would be if I could beat “the Chief” by shooting a deer first. After daylight (I have no idea now what time it was), just when the sun peeked over the mountains, I noticed that the birds quit calling and all the other wildlife became very still. My father had taught me to recognize that when birds
and smaller animals become quiet usually that meant some kind of predator was about. I knew deer or other large critters were in the immediate area from previous trips to this very place. I patiently waited for a coyote, bobcat, or a buck to step out into the clearing of this firebreak. At the time, I did not have any binoculars with me. My dad had the only pair we owned and he was not sharing it with me. Dad had instructed me to “only shoot a legal deer” – that meant a buck with forked horns or better to be legal. So, my dilemma was to properly identify a legal buck, within the range of my carbine, and eyesight (about 100-yards maximum). I was listening very carefully now as the brush on the edge of the fire lane began moving down to the right of the opening in the fire lane. I had already levered a shell into the chamber of the carbine at good shooting light. To fire the weapon only required that I thumb back (cock) the hammer, aim at the shoulder area of the legal buck, and press the trigger to make the kill. I had practiced a lot with the little carbine and knew I would not miss the mark.
MY SIGHTING: An unknown ape-like creature walked upright out of the thick patch of bushes and stood looking, for several seconds, up and down the fire lane. I cocked the hammer back on the .32 caliber carbine, shouldered the weapon, and began to press the trigger. Something in my mind ordered me to not shoot the creature! I call it Devine intervention. I asked myself if this was a bear? No, I instantly decided that it didn’t look like a bear because there was not a long, protruding snout jutting out from the face. Besides, bears were not legal game in this area of California. It certainly was not a buck, never mind the fact that if it was a deer there were no horns on
this animal. I immediately told myself it looked like a “monkey man”. I can hear myself today saying
these words out loud: “What the hell is a monkey doing out here in the mountains”? In the meantime, as I made the move to shoulder the carbine, and spoke those words, the big animal turned towards me from the waist up. Looking over the sights of the little carbine, I observed this being to be about 7 or 8 feet tall, with well-muscled, long hairy arms hanging down to the waist. The hands looked almost human, I remember noticing these things as I slowly put down the gun. This creature was completely covered in long dark, brown hair, from head to feet and appeared to have a huge, barrel chest. Some other striking features that I noticed were a flat, square jawed face; a flat, dark looking nose; no noticeable hair on the face; and a “sloping fore head”. I don’t remember seeing any sign of ears on the animal – too much long hair around the side of the head – and there was no discernable neck. Since I had no idea what this creature was, I’ve always been glad to have instantly decided NOT TO SHOOT IT! Thank God for protective Angles? The other thing I thought about, at the time, was this could be some idiot in a “monkey suit” playing a prank on some hunter like me. But, then, only a “village idiot” would dress up in a monkey costume and roam around the mountains during deer hunting season. As I contemplate the incident today, I realize now that this was a Bigfoot! And, it had both seen and heard me. I could not tell what sex it was because of all the long, dark hair around the body. However, now that I have seen numerous showings of the Patterson film in which “Pattie” was documented, I must guesstimate it was male in gender? Within 10-15 seconds, as quickly as the creature had entered my field of view, it calmly made about two strides across the open fire lane, parted some tall bushes with well-muscled, uplifted hairy arms, and disappeared into the thick bushes. Right away I noticed that
it was now standing inside the screen of thick brush along side of the fire lane like it was watching me. I could readily discern the huge dark shape, as it stood there for possibly a minute or so. Apparently, it was looking at me sitting up the hill on the ground. I didn’t know at the time whether it was going to attack me or leave. I kept the little carbine in the “ready position” across my chest and slowly stood up to get a better look at this unknown animal. I decided at the moment when I stood up, that if this thing would “charge” me, I was going to run back up the hill to my dad – unless it got too close to me. Then, and only then, would I consider shooting the animal! I admit it – I was scared fit to wet my pants. I now recall seeing the bushes shake violently and the dark shape stepped out of sight. I slowly sat down again and listened to its rustling footsteps as the huge “ape-man” descended down the hill away from me. Boy, was I glad it was gone. Now the shakes started. If I had been smoking in those days, I would have lit a cigarette and probably smoked the whole pack. Finally, after about 15-minutes, when the stillness was broken by singing birds and scurrying chipmunks, I got up enough nerve to carefully go down to the spot where I had seen this creature. Was I dreaming? No, because there, in the loose dirt, I saw a couple of huge, human-like, barefooted tracks where it had crossed the fire line. Then, a raunchy odor hit my nose. I remember thinking it smelled like a horrendous fart. In fact, at the time, I decided to call it the “Fart Creature”. I know, that is not a very endearing name for such a marvelous being, but that’s how my scared brain was working that fateful morning. Deciding that now would be a good time
to leave the area, I quickly walked back up the hill to where I had been sitting and stood there for a few minutes. Clearly, I had seen something unexplained. Now I had to decide if I should tell my dad or just keep quiet. To tell you the truth, I was afraid to tell my father because I knew he would never believe me. I thought he would most certainly take my hunting privileges away for seeing “buggers in the hills”. I began slowly walking back up the firebreak towards my father in the piney flats above me. I remember now that he had asked me why I had left my deer stand so early. I think I replied that I was hungry and bored at not seeing a buck right after daylight. He probably chewed me out for leaving so early, but, at least, I didn’t incur his wrath for telling a “bugger” story! Honestly, for many years I forgot about this incident. I had to go back to military school the next week and the ensuing years later my life was filled with other things. Of course, I really never did totally forget about seeing a Sasquatch! It was only later on in life, after getting married, serving in the military, and leaving California for Florida, that this sighting began to trouble my conscious. How I kept this a secret for this many years I will never know. I guess I was frightened that people would think I was crazy? Usually, I’m the blabby type, sharing plenty of secrets with almost anybody, especially family or friends. But this deal, oh no – I kept these cards close – too close for too long, really!
POST SCRIPT:
If I was “California Dreaming”, I just woke up. Face it; I had just seen my one and only Bigfoot! I did not know that at the time. And, I sure as hell was NOT going to tell anybody about what I had observed – none of my friends, not my father, nor my mother, ever knew what happened. As of today, not even my wife, my oldest son, or most of my close friends know what I really saw on that unusual August morning in “sunny California”. Did I do the right thing? Yes – at the time. I kept quiet about the incident all my life. Researching my feeling today, I have decided the most important thing I really did was to NOT PRESS THE TRIGGER. Believe me, I would not have missed the Sasquatch! Personally, I feel as strongly today about this fact as I did so many years ago = nobody should have to take such a critter’s life unless it is to protect oneself. There are probably a lot of people out there that will say I should have shot the creature. I say to them – No, you are wrong. We must study them, unharmed. In fact, it suits me if they are never “caught”. God has placed this race of beings on this earth to coexist with us, not against us, not amongst us, but together with us. If you think that this was a “religious experience” for me you are probably correct in that judgment. When I go before God, I want to be judged for the good things I accomplished in my life. I have already been forgiven of my “sins”. Shooting the Bigfoot would have been a sin = an act against God. And, I don’t want that particular “sin” on my soul. In my early twenty’s, I became aware of further Bigfoot evidence. I was already a “believer”. Still, I resolved to keep my “little secret”. In the past ten years I have made quite a study of recent films, documentations, and
have read about many other people’s experiences. Today, I am researching most anything I can get my mind into about Bigfoot primates. Clearly, “they” are amongst us! My philosophy is to study them, but let them exist. Who are we to judge? If the “scientists” and “learned scholars” require proof, then let them go see one for themselves. Lot’s of luck finding one, though. I have been thousands of miles up on many mountains, over lots of hills, down into plenty of valleys, and trudged through lots of swamps throughout the western, eastern, and southern states of America, and I have only seen one. I have now documented (in my mind, not on paper) many unusual incidents, sounds, observations, and smells, that today, through extensive research, I have come to realize were some kind of contact with these creatures. For instance, the “wood knocking” sounds I have heard many times in the mountains and swamps of south can now be recognized as not coming from woodpeckers. Unknowingly, over many years of hunting in several forest and swamp locations, I thought some woodpeckers were making those unusual “knocking” sounds. Also, some of the stinky smells I have become aware of in mostly swampland locations were probably some of those “creature calling cards”. Of a certainty, in the past
decade, I have smelled plenty of these obnoxious odors, especially in the swampy areas of north Florida and South Georgia. I realize now that the occasional high-pitched screeching or screaming, and sometimes a huffing sound (like “Ook-Ook”), I have listened to in several locations up in the remote regions of the north Georgia mountains was not from “wild cats”, panthers, hogs, or humans either. Finally, the pinecones, small sticks, and acorns that have, on numerous occastions, hit my truck or struck our tents in camp areas did not all fall out of the trees. I rather think that some type of unknown primate purposely threw some of these objects at us in a “threat display” to chase us out of their area!
FINAL THOUGHTS: I know more than I did a decade ago, when I was a lot more active in the wilderness. Imagine how much more attuned to these creatures I can be now when I return to the wilds of America. Many years ago I started hunting primarily with the primitive weapon of cap lock rifles, shotguns, and revolvers. My hunting dogs now, a German Shorthair Pointer (named Rebel) and a Golden Retriever (named Remy), generally are along with me when I hunt. And, I don’t hunt alone anymore – usually I’m with a human friend or two (for safety sake). I realize, as of recent readings, that I will have to be extremely careful about my dogs around any of these creatures. They don’t like dogs! Of course, non-aggressive canines will retreat from the smells and sounds of these creatures, and that could be an early warning for me – a clue, we call it in law enforcement. I will be sharply attuned to their senses, as I need all the help I can get nowadays. A couple of decades back, when I was a deputy sheriff for a time, I really didn’t like the idea of taking a
human life – even if I had to. Thank God I never had to. In reality, I understand myself quite well and, even today, I can and will shoot any life threats to myself, my family (dogs included), or other human beings. Where does that leave me with any aggressive, life-threatening Napes? I promise, just as I did in 1964, not to take a life – only if something returns the favor! As I take my life from here on and to go forth into the swamps and forest again, I remain certain that IF another “sighting” comes to me again, I will only observe and be thankful for the experience. Only, this time, I’m telling everybody about it. * For some updated directions in order to find this place where the sighting transpired, the following is included: Going along Hwy 33 above the town of Ojai, turn right on Forest Service Road 6N06 (Pine Mountain Road) and follow it to the Pine Mountain Campground. This is the original camping area where my father and I were based out of at that time. During that period of time we hunted this area (between 1960 through 1966), it was the only camping area available to anyone. We drove up the 6N06 Pine Mountain Road, away from the camping area, until we parked our camper truck at what is now Reyes Peak Trail. I think that what is now called Reyes Peak Trail was the old firebreak. My deer stand should have been along the trail near Reyes Peak (elevation 7,514 feet per the map). Bigfoot came from the
right side of the trail out of the Potrero Creek Falls area and crossed the fire line going to the left and down towards the Reyes Creek area.
