When I was about 16 years old, I had a good friend of mine named John Mitchell Burdette or ďMitchĒ for short.
We both lived in the town of Sissonville which is situated along the Pocatalico River about 17 miles from Charleston.
There were several of us from Sissonville that hung around together and were close friends, but the story I want to tell now is something that happened to Mitch and I. I have told this story to some people that I have known in my adult life, but I am very selective in who I tell it to, mostly because it is so unbelievable, and it is usually met by the normal reply:
What were you drinking?, What kind of drugs were you on? or your full of it or crazy.
So it is rare that I ever speak of it. I donít think about it all the time, but there are times when the memory comes back to me and it makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck and has brought tears to my eyes on some occasions when Iíve told it because of the emotions of how terrifying that night was is being relived by just talking about it.
And it has even caused me, a grown man, to walk out of the woods before dark with a loaded gun in my hand while hunting when I have let the memory of that night flood back in and spook me.
I have come to the conclusion that not all things in life can be explained, and what happened on the night I am referring to will, I believe, forever remain a mystery to me. I donít see Mitch very often anymore, not because we have parted friends, but because our life paths and careers sent us in different directions and have taken most of our spare time.
Mitch and I both married later on in life and I moved to my current location which is the city of St. Marys, WV and Mitch moved to Goldtown, WV. We have occasionally seen each other through the years and usually we always seem to end up talking about the thing that happened to us that night, and it amazes me at the details we both have retained as if it somehow was branded into our memories.
The only differences we have when telling our story is to what conclusions we have come to as to what exactly happened and why, I have my theories and Mitch his, but we both still agree it is a great mystery and it terrified us both.
I am 51 years old now and I wanted to record this for my children and my grandchildren to come, before, god forbid, I would die or my mind would fade away.
I first wish to offer something about my character. I pride myself on the fact that if I tell you something, you can take it to the bank as being a fact. Secondly, I have not a thing to gain by fabricating a story such as this, I want no money or notoriety and I fear that it may make some people doubt anything further that I would state as fact. The reason for me to do this in written form is not for publication but for the benefit of my family, that it may be passed on to other generations.
If preserved in written form and passed down, maybe my great grandchildren will have the same reply as many, but at least they will have the true version of what happened that was written by my hand, and not just a passed down as a ghost story.
I will tell my story and I am then going to send a copy of it to Mitch and ask him to write his account or verify that this did truly happen and then I am going to place all the paperwork on this in my family history folder and let the matter be placed to rest. fact
Anyway, here is my story:
I donít remember the exact month this happened. I know it was summertime and it was a hot day. Mitch and I were together on this occasion because we both dated a couple of young ladies that lived in the vicinity of the town of Frame. I dated a girl by the name of Brenda Gibson and Mitch was dating a young lady named Bonita Miller. Brenda lived with her parents just across the street from Bonita in a small brick home and Bonitaís parents had a white wooden house with a large front porch.
Mitch had decided he was going to his ladyís house that evening and I believed I asked him if I could ride along with him to see mine. Mitch owned his own car at that time, it was a Pontiac Lemans convertible, goldish/tan in color with a black ragtop, I didnít own a vehicle and always hitched rides with friends, thumbed or walked to where I needed to go.
I would like to say at this time that I have walked many a country road and have been walking isolated country roads from the time I was 10 or 11, so I was no stranger to lonely spooky country roads and I didnít scare easily.
When I was only 9 or 10 I had a friend Randy Reed, that lived on Second Creek Rd and I would walk all the way from my momís to Randyís house through pasture fields and then a long stretch thru a pine forest, about a 5 mile hike, and there were several times I got my hide tanned for not being back home before it got dark.
I always liked the woods and there was nothing in them to fear, though a deer sidled me through the woods one night and it spooked me, I was never terrified.
Anyway, those are other stories, I just wanted to make a point that I am used to the woods and the creatures in it and certainly was no coward that feared the boogieman.
Frame was a very small community about 20 miles from Sissonville. There were 2 ways you could get there from Sissonville, you could get on I-77 and go to Charleston then go up I-79 to Frametown Rd. exit and where the girls lived was probably 5 or 6 miles from the exit, in all, it was about a 30 or 35 mile trip one way.
But most people from Sissonville would just travel through Poca river road out through what was called Leatherwood and it would bring you over to Frame road. It was an old single lane blacktop road, lots of potholes and twists and turns. You couldnít drive 65 mph but it was shorter than the alternative by probably 12 to 15 miles, so Mitch and I always traveled Ole Pokey road as we called it.
I donít recall the time of day that we got there, we all met at the Millers house and then Brenda and I went over to hers. I recall I spent a good deal of time spooning with Brenda, and as it was nearing dusk there came a heck of a thunderstorm.
Mitch called over to Brendaís and said we were going to have to get home before it got really bad, so Brenda and I ran over through the pouring rain and sat down on the porch with everyone else, and got into a conversation.
Now I will be upfront and say I didnít in particular care much for Mitchís girl and I donít believe there was any love lost on her part over it, my opinion was she was kinda uppity, liked thinking she was a little smarter and better than everyone else.
Somehow the conversation got shifted to religion and Bonita sure spoke her opinion of how we were all living wrong and she knew the only path to salvation, which maybe she did, but it ticked me off the way she put it and I told her I was an atheist just to make her mad, and it did.
I remember her saying something to the effect of:
I better watch what I say.
And seeing as I had gotten under her skin I laid it on pretty hot and heavy as to how there was no God, remember I am 16 years old and hot headed, and I sure wasnít going to be outdone by some bible thumping girl that I didnít care much for.
After our little disagreement, the conversation ended and the weather took a turn for the worse. The wind started picking up and lightning was hitting close and the rain got harder.
Mitch said we needed to leave, which I am sure Bonita didnít mind seeing me go at all, so I ran Brenda back across the street, gave her a goodnight kiss, and headed back towards the Millers.
I was on a dead run when I felt the hair stand up all over me and I saw the flash and felt the concussion, then the explosion.
It literally almost knocked me down, and to this day that is the closest, I have ever come to being hit by lightning. I managed to keep my footing and made it back to Bonitaís porch all wide eyed and out of breath.
The only thing I could think to say was:
Did you all see that? and they had.
Bonita reminded me at that time as to how I should watch what I say about God and if she would have given a good sermon at that point, she might have gotten a convert.
But the lightning came crashing again and Mitch said we needed to hit the road, and I agreed. He got his kiss in and I was already soaked, but by the time we walked the few feet to his car and got in, he was just as drenched as me.
I guess it was probably about 9:30 p.m. or a little less at this time. It seemed that just in a few moments time it had gone from sunset to total black and it was pitch dark as we pulled out of her driveway and onto Frame road.
It was one of those storms where the rain was pouring and the wind was blowing it straight into us and you could literally see it coming in sheets. Mitch had the wipers going full blast but they couldnít even phase the amount of water that came onto the windshield, the wipers probably would have done as much good being on the inside as the outside.
We could only see a few feet ahead of the front of the car, you couldnít even see the road, it was a guessing game as to if we were in the middle of the road or about to run off either edge. We were only driving about 10 or 15 mph and each lightning flash only blinded us, it didnít illuminate the road, and there was plenty of it and hitting all around.
Through the lightning flashes, you could get glimpses of the surroundings and we were navigating from memory, thereís a turn coming up after this next house, or at the bottom of this little hill is a left turn. Frame road was not very populated then, but there were a few houses and you could see porch lights burning or lights shining faintly through the sheets of rain.
We finally came to a long straight stretch we both knew but the rain just got harder. This stretch was one we were familiar with but the rain was coming down so hard the only way to tell if you were on the road was to wait till you run off it so you could feel it.
When we entered the stretch, we were completely blind and we knew that at the end of it was a sharp right turn we would somehow have to navigate. Luckily, at the end of the straight stretch marking our right hand turn was a street light at someoneís driveway and we knew if we just drove towards the street light we could make it, it was kind of like a lighthouse beacon to a fog bound ship.
The lightning was starting to let up at this point, but the rain sure hadnít. We were about halfway down this stretch when for no reason the light just went out and we both said:
At the same time.
No lightning had flashed and there were still lights on in houses, but we lost our beacon. It was as if someone knew we needed it on and turned it off for spite.
I mention this for a reason as you will find out deeper into the story.
We slowed down a little more and I honestly could have outwalked the pace we were driving at. It seemed like it took us forever to drive the 5 miles or so where we turned off Frame road and onto Poca river road.
When we started up Poca river, the rain eased up a bit and Mitch sped up a little and it was at this time we noticed the car starting to shake. We commented on it to each other and were listening for those familiar sounds of rubber flapping or a bearing starting to squeal but heard nothing. We were still only going maybe 25 mph or so and the shaking was getting worse.
About a mile or so into this there was a church parking lot on the left and we pulled into it and got out into the rain to see if we had a wheel that was flat or about to fall off. We both walked around the car and checked the tires and we even pulled on them to see if we could get them to shake, but could find nothing wrong. We got back in and both of us had gotten drenched again.
We discussed what could be going on and what we needed to look, listen, and feel for to diagnose our problem.
The rain was coming in spurts now, it would pour for a minute then let up to drizzle then pour again, but the lightning had stopped. We started the car back up and pulled back onto the road and as soon as we got to about 25 mph, the shaking started again.
The section of road we were on now was a little straight stretch, maybe a ½ mile in length, and there were probably about 6 houses along this stretch to the right with the last house being at the bottom of a little rise on the right.
As we went past it there were no lights on in the house, but they had an outside street lamp beside their home just off the side of the front porch. I really didnít notice all that as we drove by but knew about and remembered it later.
We got about 150 yards past the house and almost to the top of the rise and by this time the car felt like it was going to fall apart. There was a wide gravel spot on the shoulder to the left and Mitch pulled off into it and said we have to find out what was wrong with his car.
We got out and this time we both found it immediately, we had a flat on the front. Now both of us were amazed as to how we could have missed this the first time we stopped, we both had walked around and checked for just that very thing on the first stop, but somehow we both had missed it.
Mitch said something to the effect of:
And I said, well this isnít a problem, we just change it and get on our way.
Thatís when he told me he didnít have a jack and worse yet, he didnít have a spare, so this was a big problem.
We stood there a few minutes and discussed our options, and Mitch said maybe we could walk back down the hill to the house with the street light and use their phone to call his brother Bud. There were no cell phones in those days.
It was still raining somewhat, not a downpour like before, but it was steady. Now this was the 1970ís, fine people like Charlie Manson had been running around with long hair and murdering people in the middle of the night, and since Mitch and I were like all the other youth of the nation we had long hair as well and we sure didnít have on tuxedoes, just old flannel shirts and worn out blue jeans, soaking wet and looking like a couple of bums, which was how we all wanted to look like back then.
I remember we walked up to the sidewalk and the steps onto the front porch of that house, it had to be going on 10:00 p.m. by this time and Mitch about fell going up the steps because his glasses had fogged up completely and he commented he couldnít see a thing.
He knocked on the front door and we noticed all the lights were out. We commented about hating to get someone out of bed but this was a true emergency. No one came the first knocking so Mitch knocked again and this time we heard footsteps coming and the curtain draws back a little and someone asked:
Who is it?
Mitch answered and said:
Our car has a flat and we need to come in and use your phone.
Ē which in hindsight was probably not the best way to greet someone in the middle of the night and have them to let you into their house.
The man behind the door replied:
Just a minute.
And the curtain closed. We heard him walk back through the house and Mitch and I were discussing how to talk his brother Bud into bringing us a jack and a spare. I think I said something to the effect that Buds going to be mad, then the front door of the house jerked open and there stood an older man with a shotgun pointed at us and said:
No you can't use the phone, and get off of his porch.
I jumped back about 2' and was going down the steps in a hurry when I heard Mitch say:
Why Canít we use your phone?
I just remember the guy cursing something and threatening to shoot us.
I looked back at that point and Mitch was standing right where he had been and thatís when I remembered he couldnít see out of his glasses. I shouted back up for him to come on and he said something like:
Well I just want to know why he wonít let us use his phone.
And this old man has the gun leveled at Mitchís head and I said Mitch:
He has a shotgun pointed right at you.
That sunk in real quick and Mitch came down off the porch and we heard the guy mutter something and slam the door. We walked back out his sidewalk to the road and then walked the 150 yards or so back to the car. Now it was time to come up with a plan B which we hadnít figured on before.
We discussed maybe going back to some of the other houses we had passed but decided that after the warm reception we received at the first that maybe the next might just shoot first and ask questions later, so that was out.
We were standing outside the car at this point and trying to come up with a plan. Mitch was supposed to be home by 11:00 p.m. and we were already near or past that, neither of us had a watch.
We decided we would try to hitch a ride, as walking the 15 to 18 miles the rest of the way to Sissonville was not an option.
As we stood there at the side of the road we began to take note of our surroundings. To the left of the road which was the side we had pulled off on, there was a barbwire fence a few feet over the hill and then as near as we could tell a little bottomland between us and the river. To the right of the road was another barbwire fence and the hillside was fairly steep and grown up in briars and weeds for a couple of hundred feet then turned into woods.
We could see the street light and the guy with the gunís house down at the bottom of the hill. We walked on to the top of the rise, which was only about 50' or so and there was nothing else as far as we could see going down the other side of the hill but darkness.
We walked back to the car and leaned against the hood and just stood there and talked and waited for a car to come by. I know at least an hour passed before the only car we saw came through, and he sure wasnít slowing down to pick up a couple of stranded hippies.
We began to discuss our options again and about this time is when things got really weird.
It began with hearing what sounded like someone hammering nails to the right of the road up on the ridge, it sounded to be a good distance off. More hammering noises joined the first and it sounded as though several people were hammering nails and then it sounded like someone started running a circular saw. This went on for a full 2 or 3 minutes and Mitch and I both commented on who in the world would be building a house or a barn at this hour of the night and we could see no lights at all in the direction the noise was coming from and it was in the middle of the woods.
This was very strange, and then just as suddenly as it had started and at the pitch of what seemed to be a whole lot of activity, it suddenly stopped, not slowly as it started, it just stopped and you could hear crickets chirping.
We had our attention focused on that side of the hill and would look back at each other, then stare until our eyes hurt trying to see something. I remember hearing brush cracking and weeds rustling as something came down off the hill, then quiet again.
We must have stood there another 5 minutes after that and were trying to figure out what it was that we had heard, we were still focused on the right hand side of the road. It was at this time that something gave out a cross between a scream and a deep guttural groan in the bottom to our left between the river and us.
Mitch looked at me and said:
Was that a bear?
And I remember saying I never heard a bear sound like that.
Now I am not going to lie, we were both getting a little spooked at this point and we now had our attention focused back down the hill towards the guy with the gunís house to the bottomland on the left of the road. We were both very focused at this point as neither of us had ever heard a noise like this, and havenít to this day since that night.
We stood there for what seemed like 20 minutes, but honestly, I donít know how long it was and were trying to figure out what we heard. Then the street light went out at the house, the guy with the gun had turned on an inside light and had never turned it back off, and we could see that burning through his curtains so it wasnít a power failure.
We both stood there for a few seconds longer and then we heard whatever it was scream out again, whatever it was screaming sounded mad and big.
We both wasted no time getting in the car, Mitch in the driver side and me in the passenger seat. Now we were scared, I wonít cut any bones about it, I know I was shaking and I could hear shaking in Mitchís voice.
We started trying to convince each other that whatever it was we just heard, there had to be an explanation.
We started once again in discussing new options as here we were with some wild beast somewhere in our vicinity and it sounded mad, and here we sat in a ragtop convertible with a flat tire that wasnít going anywhere.
We were talking about what to do when Mitch said:
The best way I know how to describe what we heard next was it sounded like something walking in a huge set of rubber gumboots full of water, kind of sucking, squishing, heavy sound, and it was coming up the road right behind the car.
We both set there totally still listening to that thing walking up behind us and then it let out another scream or howl, whatever sound you would call it, and it was right at the back of the car and it was huge. I say it was huge because the sound was not coming from a low level near the road, but sounded instead like it was above the top of the car from the rear.
I have thought many a time since that day, and have had people ask me:
Why didnít you look back to see what it was?
Quite simply, I couldnít and neither could Mitch, it was so terrifying I didnít want to see what it was I just wanted to getaway.
Have you ever seen kids scare each other and watch the one that got scared, he will run 4' or 5' before turning around to see what scared him, it is basic instinct I think when you are truly terrified this is how you react to it.
What I did do was to reach over and start the car, Mitch was in an attempt to do this but I beat him to it. He floored the gas and yanked it into gear. Now, this was a fairly powerful car as Mitch had hopped up the motor somewhat, and those big old tires on the rear started chucking gravel.
If you ever have had a flat on a front tire and pulled into gravel and stopped, the flat tire is the equivalent of putting a chalk block in front of your tires and trying to take off.
My thought in those first few split seconds is that we were stuck and our butts are eaten, then the car slowly started easing forward and whatever was behind us was getting the rock stoning of its life. The car kind of lurched forward a couple of times and we finally got up enough momentum to get the flat tire up onto the blacktop and when the rear tires came onto the blacktop we had gravel flying and tires squealing.
I donít know if you have ever tried to drive a car with a flat front tire, but what we immediately found out was that it is possible but you arenít going to go very fast.
Both of us were almost hysterical, and we kept shouting:
What was that?
But neither of us had an answer and I am convinced we were both fairly happy we hadnít found out. The car was kind of hopping down the road and we couldnít do more than 20 or 25 mph but at least that was putting distance between us and whatever we had encountered.
We had driven about ½ or ¾ mile when we came around a turn and there was a house to the left, no lights on in the house but they had a street light in the drive so we pulled in under the light in the drive and both of us jumped out of the car and ran up to the door and were knocking frantically and shouting at the top of our voices for someone to help us.
After a good minute or so of knocking, we were coming to the conclusion that nobody was home, so we stopped knocking and shouting and just stood there for a minute. We were in a place where it was bright and we could see in all directions and it was obvious that nothing was going to grab us, so we started to calm down.
We began talking about what had happened and were questioning whether it was real or not.
We walked back to the car and got in and we actually began to convince ourselves that we had just panicked and there had to be a reasonable explanation as to what had occurred.
Just about then, the street light went out. It didnít flicker or dim, it just went off, and it was now pitch black. This got both our attention real quick and we sat silent for a few moments, then Mitch said:
Faintly you could hear that squishing sucking sound coming up the road. I remember thinking, this is impossible, but it was unmistakable and getting louder, this thing, whatever it was, was following us.
It didnít get right behind us as previously and scream, but it was close when it did scream. I didnít have to start the car as before, Mitch beat me to it this time, and he yanked the car into gear and we pulled back onto the road squealing rubber again.
Now we were both scared at this point, but not in a panic as the first encounter, and we started hopping down the road again on our flat tire.
We talked going down the road and we were still trying to come up with an explanation as to what was happening, but there was no sane explanation for it.
Mitch was driving the car as fast as he could and still be able to maintain control of it, it was difficult and I know he hated abusing his vehicle in this manner, but there was no other choice. We didnít have to say it between us, but we both knew walking was not even an option to consider.
That old ragtop convertible sure wouldnít have kept something from tearing thru it and grabbing us out, but at this time it was moving faster than we could run and it was putting distance between us and whatever it was behind us, and it was our fort for the moment and I was sure thankful for it.
We drove this time for what seemed about 4 or 5 miles and we had passed a few homes, but none showed any signs of activity, all were dark.
The tire was starting to come apart at this time and you could hear the rim cutting the blacktop. We finally came to a place where another road intersected with Poca River road on the left, the name of it was Whitemanís Fork. There was a street light there and almost directly across from this intersection across the road on the right, was a house with lights on inside and you could see the flicker of a TV playing.
Mitch kind of just slid his car into the intersection and we both jumped out and ran towards the house. I remember it set down a steep embankment from the road and as soon as we came to the top of the embankment we could hear and see they had a rather large dog on the front porch.
Now, most of the time both Mitch and I had respect for large snarling dogs, but on this night it seemed to be the least of our concerns. The dog didnít bite us when we came up to the front door, but he sure wasnít happy to see us. We knocked on the door and when it opened I donít think we even waited to be invited in, we just kind of stepped inside. I remember an older man and woman sitting in a chair watching TV and it was a younger boy that had let us in.
We asked to use the phone and briefly explained our situation. I believe you could see in our faces that we had been through an ordeal and they had mercy on us.
They directed Mitch to the phone and as he called his house I tried as calmly as I could to explain what had happened to us.
These poor people must have thought us to be completely insane as I explained to them what had occurred and you could see by the looks on their faces they were filled with doubt and suspicion.
Mitch got in touch with his parents and explained where we were and they got in touch with Bud on the CB radio as he was already out looking for us. Mitchís parents told him to sit tight at the car and Bud would bring us a spare and a jack. When Mitch got off the phone, we tried to rationally explain to this family what had happened and we briefly discussed it with them, and then thanked them for letting us use their phone.
Mitch told them that his brother was going to bring us a spare and that we would wait in the car for him to come.
We both had calmed down at this point as help was on its way, and we realized how insane we must have appeared to these people with the story we told and the wide eyed look we had when we had entered their home. We thanked them very gratefully and walked back out into the night. The dog wasnít barking at us now, as I guess he figured if his masters had let us in, then we must be all right.
We walked up to the embankment and back across the road to our car setting under the street light. We looked over the tire and it was in bad shape and we commented that we were glad it had held up as good as it had for the abuse we had put it thru. We both had settled down and we started making jokes about what had happened and how we must both be insane and kind of embarrassed as well in how we had panicked as we had. We both talked about if we had seen what it was and we both agreed that we hadnít wanted to, we were just glad to be able to get away from it.
We sat in the car and talked for what must have been 5 minutes or so and we were both calm at this point, still mystified and maybe a little jumpy, but we felt safe.
Just then, the dog at the house we were just at started barking, it wasnít just a casual bark, it was an if you come near me I will bite you bark.
Mitch and I both looked behind us down the road we had just traveled on and tried to see into the dark, but you couldnít see anything past the glow of the street lamp we were under. We were back on alert again, the dog was mad at something and we were trying to see what it was that had him so upset.
Just then, the street light went out, just like all the other times before, no flickering or dimming just turned off. It was pitch black again and we could see the house we just left and the lights were still on in the inside, could still see the TV flickering.
I think I must have said something like:
You have got to be kidding me.
And Mitch said:
Thatís when we heard it coming again, that same old sucking squishing noise we were now starting to become familiar with.
We didnít sit there and wait for it to get closer this time, we started the car and started driving. We didnít give it a chance to let out another of those terrible screams.
We decided we would drive until we met Bud on the road and then we would ride with him the rest of the way home. I donít know how many miles we drove that time, there was a little conversation between us, just silent prayers that our ride would hold together till we met Bud.
I remember we passed a vehicle and as it was going past we both recognized it as Buds El Camino. We could see him hit the brakes and Mitch just drove his car into the ditch on the right and pulled it onto the embankment on the other side of the ditch, it was kind of a controlled wreck.
We saw Bud turning around and when he was headed back in our direction we jumped out as he pulled beside us. We both just jumped into his vehicle and he kind of looked at us funny and said:
Your tire and jack are in the back, arenít you going to fix it?
I think we both answered in unison:
No, just get us out of here.
Bud made a lame attempt at telling us it would only take a few minutes to fix it, and that Mitch shouldnít leave his car abandoned beside the road.
Mitch said he didnít care about his car, we just wanted to get out of here and we could come back when it was daylight and get it then. I think Bud could tell how scared we were, so he didnít try real hard to convince us otherwise, he made one more attempt at telling us we shouldnít leave the car sitting, and I think we told him if he wanted to fix it we would sit in the car with it running and watch.
That must have convinced him that nothing was going to happen, and we drove off, leaving the ole LeMans sitting in the ditch.
We told our story to Bud going down the road and he, like many others since then that we told our story to, tried to convince us that there had to be a reasonable explanation for what had occurred and we had just let our imaginations run wild, but we knew different.
I lived up a little hollow called Sisson Lane and Bud dropped me off at the mouth of it, I remember I ran as hard as I could all the way to Moms, and was very relieved when I got inside and closed the door. It took a long time to settle down and go to sleep that night, but sleep finally did come.
The next day, me, Mitch, and Mike Huffman or Ralph Miller drove out Poca River to change the tire and bring it home.
I remember us telling Mike or Ralph about what happened and Mitch and I fully expected when we would get to the car, the top would be all shredded and the car practically destroyed when whatever it was that pursued us found it abandoned and its prey gone.
When we got to it, it was just as we had left it, no huge claw marks through the cloth top or down the sides. The hood and windshield were not all smashed in. Not a thing to confirm we had escaped the creature that pursued us the night before that was so intent on catching us and doing us harm, all we were left with was a story and a memory that I will never forget.
Well, that is my version of the story as I remember it, I will be glad to get Mitchís version and compare it, just to see if he remembers things differently or if there are details that I have forgotten over the years and he can remind me.
We talked about this for years and I know both of us have questioned our sanity over the event of that night. We discussed explanations for it such as aliens, Bigfoot, or just a practical joke someone played on 2 young men that night. But we always came to the same conclusion, it didnít make any sense.
What could shut off street lights, scream as that thing did and make the footstep sounds it had, I donít know, but I will never forget. It is just one of those things that you had to be there to believe it. I am convinced it is just a mystery that I will take to my grave.