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Lyt når som helst, hvor som helst 

Cameron Buckner

The What if its True Podcast features odd stories from ordinary people like you and me. Each episode will have one or more stories the writers claim are true. You can dismiss them as told by folks with great imaginations. You might even call them liars. Most people do. If you're like me though, there is always that nagging question you ask, but can't get an answer to. That question: What if it's True?

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What if it's True Podcast

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Archive 194 Bigfoot

My story took place south of Bear Mountain in La Flore County. My husband and I had a three-year-old and were tired of the hustle and bustle. So, for my birthday, he surprised me with an empty shell cabin on the mountain.

We both loved the outdoors. Even though I am a little lady, I still like to go hunting, hiking, and any other outdoor activity to prove I’m as good as the best of them. It was fitting that my husband moved me to this beautiful mountain. My husband drove a truck six months out of the ear, leaving me alone, but we both felt safe making the move.

Our cabin was finished in time for winter, which was right around the corner. One day, my son and I were home alone. It was about dusk, but still nice and warm outside. While my son played in the baby pool, I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and enjoyed myself. He and I always heard things like knocking when we were outside, but we were in the woods after all, and I have always been open to anything new out there.

As we were sitting there, we heard growling and laughter. That was no ordinary forest noise, so I went and got my Ruger. When I came back, my son was pointing to the burn pile, saying, “Boogie Man!”

I froze. There at the burn pile stood four Bigfoots. The male was at least eight feet tall. Next to him was a mother and two younger ones. She was holding one of them as she squatted next to the pile and gnawed on an old ham bone. The other young one had his hand on his mother’s shoulder, staring at us in disbelief, just like we were staring at him. The stench coming from them was so strong that I almost lost my cookies. 

“They need a bath,” my son blurted out. 

I burst out laughing—out the mouth of babes, as they say. I never did raise my pistol, but the big guy kept his eye on it, so he must have known what it was. After that experience, I started leaving more food out by the burn pile. Nothing much, just scraps from a hunt or apples and things. We never saw them again, but we could hear them in the woods still and knew they got our gifts. Oddly enough, they would leave us gifts in return. A stack of rocks they built for us was still there when we left the cabin years later. 

My son is thirty now, and my husband is gone, but I will never forget my time on that enchanting mountain. Even though my son says he doesn’t remember, I’m glad for the time we had with our forest neighbors.

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Bigfoot Family Allows Mother and Child to Live in Their Forest

Archive 193 Bigfoot Theory

Bigfoot and Boogaladamoosh

In the early 1980s, my family and I lived in a big old house in the little town of Saint Leonard, New Brunswick, Canada. It was a two-story home built in the early 1900s. My father bought it from a man who was reluctant to sell it, but had no choice. My father had done some renovations on the house, but mainly on the first floor. The second floor he had left as it was. At the top of the stairs, there was a full bathroom, and left of the bathroom was my parents’ room. Down the hall was my bedroom, and beyond that was my little brother’s room. I was a bit of a scaredy cat. Being young, I was unable to sleep in the dark. So my mother would leave the bathroom light on and my bedroom door open. One night, I had awoken from a deep sleep. I wasn’t prone to waking up in the middle of the night at that age; it was more like something woke me up. I looked down at my feet, and sitting on the footboard of my bed was a hideous creature. 

It had white horns and large, yellow, bulging eyes. Long fangs protruded from its mouth, and its small hand had claws that seemed to be digging into my footboard. I screamed, jumped out of my bed, and ran to my parents’ room, completely hysterical. My father was a man’s man and didn’t care for this sort of behavior from his son, but when I described what I saw, he seemed concerned. 

My parents turned on the light in my room and looked around. My mother checked on my little brother, who was fine. And I got to sleep with my parents that night, something my father didn’t really usually permit.

I was wary of going to bed for a while, but I never saw it again. Years later, my parents told me they were concerned when I described my nocturnal visitor, because one of my father’s uncles described seeing the exact same thing out in the woods a couple of months earlier. Apparently, there was a group of these sorts of creatures that chased my great-uncle out of the woods. They terrified him, and he died not long after that event. 

Fast forward to 1994. I was attending the University of Maine at Fort Kent, and I had the honor of knowing a man named Guy Frigon. He was a shaman of the local First Nation tribe of Maliseets. 

Considering that some members of my family are of First Nations descent, I decided to ask him about what my great-uncle and I saw. Mr. Frigon listened to my story as we sat in the student lounge at UMFK. He said, “Well, you saw a Boogaladamoosh.” 

Mr. Frigon went on to tell me that my great-uncle had somehow offended them, and that’s why they chased him out of the woods. He went on to explain that they were similar to what Europeans would call elves or gnomes. He was uncertain as to why one would have visited me, since I had nothing to do with the offence my uncle committed. Mr. Frigon guessed that it may have sensed I had shamanic abilities. He went on to invite me to a sweat lodge, and that I would possibly get the chance to see them again. I assured Mr. Frigon that though his invitation was generous, my faith wouldn’t allow any such thing. I thanked him for the invitation, though, and for the wisdom he imparted. I, nor anyone else in my family, has ever encountered this sort of being ever again. 

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Bigfoot and Boogaladamoosh

Archive 192 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 192 Bigfoot Stories

Archive 191 The Handhouse A Bigfoot Story
One of the best stories on Dixie Cryptid.

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Archive 191 The Handhouse A Bigfoot Story

Archive 190 Bigfoot

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Archive 190 Bigfoot

Archive 189 Bigfoot

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Archive 189 Bigfoot

In 1975, living in rural Connecticut, a young woman heard a monkey-like sound and experienced strange phenomena, including consistent tree knocks during walks with their dog in the woods. They later discovered cougar tracks, which their mother confirmed but was disturbed by a strong smell at the tree-knock site, hinting it might not be from a cougar but possibly a Sasquatch. Years later, after moving to a new area, the narrator saw a large, blondish-furred figure in a new housing development, which they believed was a Sasquatch. In a nearby state forest, they encountered a similar foul smell, heard a deep howl, and later photographed what they believe are Sasquatch-like creatures, including juveniles and adults with varying human and ape-like features. Despite close encounters, the narrator was unharmed but noted an aggressive Sasquatch threw a rock at their car. They also mentioned three mysterious deaths in the forest, suggesting a possible connection to these creatures, which they believe are numerous and present even in populated areas.

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She Didn't Know Bigfoot Was There

Archive 188 Interview Orb Sighting

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Archive 188 Interview Orb Sighting

Why We Love The Wild Things.
This is not a monster podcast. I got an email from a viewer that I connected with. Even though it is not exciting and fast paced, its still good. I like to take a break from Cryptids on occassion. This is my break. The next podcast will with the usual topics.

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Why We Love The Wild Things

Lyt når som helst, hvor som helst

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