Saturday, August 6, 2011


It was November 1969, and I was on my first hunting trip with my Winchester 30-30 I had received on my 11th birthday in August. My Dad and I were near Marlington WV at a camp site we frequented a lot. I do know the name of the people that owned the land, but I will not give it here even though I know they are deceased. It was well past daybreak on a clear, crisp morning, (Dad was not one to rise too early since he knew he was hunting on private land with an apple orchard to boot), so about 7:30 AM we headed out. Now I could not get you to this place now, and Daddy passed away in 1990, But I can draw you maps, layouts whatever you want because this place was my favorite, and even after this took place, we still went there for several years afterwards.

As we left the camp house down the dirt road past a small pasture area, you came upon a wooden fence around a hay field that stretched from the dirt road to the river. That river is a famous, in my mind. trout river in WV. It was 300 yards from the fence by the road to the fence by the river. Right at the corner of the fence, Dad made me kneel down saying he saw a bear. Well I'm excited as heck thinking this was a good day. Dad slowly rises and peered through his scope mounted on his 30-06. After what seemed a decade to me, about 15 seconds, he kneels back down. I said did you lose him and Dad said no, it is still there. I said are you going to shoot him, and he said no because I don't know what it is. Now my daddy taught me about every critter that ran through the woods, and for him to say he didn't know what it was, sent me into shock.

He told me to look at it. I always carried field glasses when I hunted, still do. I slowly stood up, located the animal and put the glasses to my eyes. I am retired military, and what humans do to humans scares me more than what I saw that morning. It was a very large animal about 7 foot tall standing across the hay field at the other fence post. There was very little hair on the face and I remember thinking he looked like the very kind and wise black gentleman that my Father knew. I was not afraid at all, as I felt at that time it was more afraid of us. I looked at that animal for nearly a minute before kneeling back down. It had brown hair with streaks of red, and a dark brown face with very dark eyes, but not "without Soul". Its hair, not fur, did not seem to be matted or nasty. No, I did not smell anything. After a minute, Dad and I stood back up and the thing was still there. Dad scoped it and I glassed it for 30 seconds when Dad said come on, lets head back to camp.

Once there, he took my gun and chambered the only round I had in it, and then filled the magazine. He loaded a 12 gauge with slugs and then got a 300 H&R Magnum from the gun case and loaded it. On a beautiful fall day, he would not let me out. The morning, Sunday, you could not hunt till noon. After Breakfast, Dad asked what I had saw. I told him and he said me too. He said we should keep this to ourselves, and as far as I know we did. I did share it wit my sons after Daddy passed away, saying that was the only time I saw him "nervous".

To read more:

[Note: This is not my own personal account - simply one I found to be an interesting read at the BFRO website]

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