This is an interesting story, one I have been told multiple times.

In the late 40's my Father and his 2 sisters, mom and step dad, lived in a small "camp" in Northern California. the camp consisted of 3 military Hospital tents, I am not sure how many familes lived there, several though. The men all worked on building roads for the log trucks in the Redwoods. He has told me several times that their camp was constant harassed by a Crazy Indian man. He used to steal food from the people, and just in general cause problems. My dad was around 7 or 8 when they lived there, and remembers it clearly. Their camp was up a dirt road about a 1/2 mile from the main road which was a gravel road. He can't recall how far it was to town. The school bus would pick the kids up at the intersection of the main road and the camp road. My fatrher remembers seeing the Crazy Indian man on multiple occasions he would watch the kids from across a small ravine, dad guesses it was 150 to 200 yards away from the road to where the man would stand. The man would grab trees and shake them violently trying to scare the kids, he would also hoot and holler at them. Eventually the kids would be escorted by armed adults to and from the school bus. Another thing he remembers that was significant was that all the people kept their dogs in the tents at night because the crazy man would strangle the dogs who were outside. Also tis "man" grabbed my grandmother at one time by the arms from behind, not sure the circumstances, but my dad remembers that grandma had big deep claw like marks on her arm and that the spread of the fingers was huge. On 2 separate occasions posses were sent out to try and apprehend this man. the 1st was a group of about 40 or so, the 2nd about half that. They never found him, but they did find where he slept. it was under a place where 2 logs had fallen and there was a space hollowed out underneith and lined with redwood boughs, with more kinda tossed over the opening. My dad also remembers that at night the man used to sneak down to the camp and drag his nails down the sides of the canvas tents. The last thing he remembers about it is that one day grandma went outside for something and came running back in grabbed a rifle ran back outside and shot the man who then ran off. He had been in the chicken coup stealing chickens. She knew she hit him because he went down then got up and ran off. Some of the men from the camp tried tracking him, they did find blood but were never able to find the man.

Now that is the details as it's always been described to me. Then all of a sudden yesterday my dad says to me... "remember that old story of the crazy Indian man?" Of course I do. He then went on to tell me that the more he thinks about it the more he thinks maybe they were being harassed by a bigfoot. Ding! The light went on... I never had put all the stuff together before, because dad had always said it was a crazy old Indian man. He then went on to say he thinks that maybe the adults of the camp though that the kids would be a little less scared at the thought of an Indian man bothering them the thought of Sasquatch. Of Course I asked him if he remembered what he looked like. Dad said he remembered a very hairy man, like man who had been living in the woods for years.

Anyway, just thought I'd share, and I want to point out that my dad went on to be a VP for a fortune 500 corporation so it's not like he's some crackpot backwoods nutso.

What a truly fascinating and detailed story. The part of dragging the fingernails
down the sides of the tent almost scares me more than the more physical
incidents. What a terrorist! He was an indian, a Stick Indian, a name used by
at least one native american tribe for a bigfoot-like being.

Hi

Thanks for posting that, very interesting,, Of course i have to ask if there are anymore details


Peace
Tim

I'm trying to get more details, with out being a pest about it. I'm afraid that if I ask too much that it might get his brain too active and it might start filling in forgotten blanks if ya know what I mean. WE are talking about memories of a 7 year old boy who is now almost 66.

Its nice to read sightings like that. The details are very interesting. I know what you mean about filling in the blanks, I had a experience when I was 6 or 7 too thats hard to remember all the details.

I certainly enjoy reading stories like this. However, it does make me wonder if there is something more to glean from these stories. It seems like there are several older stories where 'wild hairy men' made themselves more visible to certain populations, like the camp mentioned above. I wonder if over the course of time 'hairy men' or sasquatches observed the way humans treated each other and other animals and thus became more reclusive in order to avoid the 'not-so-hairy men'?

Hi

You have a good point, i am sure there are many BF that have been shot at, chased, etc that have learned a good lesson from man, i believe they are to curious for there own good sometimes

Peace
Tim

Fascinating story.I do wish sasquatch were more willing to interact with people now a days, but they probably have realized that curiosity can kill them in the wrong situations.

Sounds to me like a reclusive wild man as opposed to a primate like Sasquatch. Nothing in the story that hints that there was anything apelike in the wildman. But still a good story!

I live in Nor Cal, when I was 16 (now 27) we had a ranch, about 25 acres of pines. We had a hill behind our house and one day a man came running down it screaming. We yelled and asked him if he needed help, when he saw us he turned and run up the hill and over the crest. We got our shotguns and went to find him because he ran towards our cattle in the woods. We came across a shelter he had made with 2 logs and tree limbs but no screaming man. We returned home and a couple days later discovered the man had been missing for 3 weeks. He was with some buddies cutting wood in the National Forest that borders our land and tried some acid. He then went crazy and ran off from his friends and lived in the woods. Pretty crazy.

Don't eat the brown acid! Of course, Wavy Gravy once stated there was no
such thing as a bad trip. I dont guess this guy got the message.


dav