Report: Redding California
Submitted 2004
Hello. My name is Mark. I have two stories for
you; The first about an experience I had in the fall of 1969 near Redding, CA;
the second, an Iceman story.
In the fall of 1969 I was five years old and
living in Redwood City CA with father, David. He was an avid outdoorsman and
got out every chance he could, usually taking me with him. On one occasion he
planned a squirrel hunt with a co-worker named Jim, who knew of some good
squirrel woods near Redding. There had been some recent reports of
Bigfoot
sightings in the area, but the guys just laughed them off, perhaps to put me (
or themselves ) at ease.
The hunting was slow; few squirrels were in
evidence, though Jim had seen plenty on his last trip not long before. The
woods were quiet even to a five-year-old. Of course, there are slow days, so
not much was thought about it.
After a while my dad picked up the sound of
something behind and off to one side of our trail moving along with us.
Whenever we stopped, the sound of one or two more footfalls would be heard.
Dad made several tests of this, starting and stopping at intervals, and it
never failed to produce the same result. We were being followed. At one
point we heard the sound of a breaking branch. Dad investigated, and found a 2
to 3 inch limb that had been snapped by having been stepped on. He couldn't
break a piece of the same log with his own weight.
After Dad came back to Jim and I we started down
the trail at a rate of speed that I considered to be excessive for a
successful squirrel hunt, not to mention my short little legs. It was a quick,
quiet walk back to the station wagon.
I realize that the passage of time and the
perceptions of a five-year-old don't make for even good anecdotal evidence for
the existence of Bigfoot. We had no camera, and the men were armed only with
.22's, so taking pictures of the broken log was as out of the question as
making any further attempts to contact the being that followed us that day.
Without me along, they may have investigated a little closer, except that they
were under-gunned in the case that anything dire occurred.
I called Dad to sound him out on his recollections
of that day before writing you this story, and his dovetail perfectly with
mine. We don't know how to reach Jim, who worked with Dad at TWA.
Thank You, Mark
Mark's Iceman
Story
