The Great Government Bigfoot Conspiracy

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Screen Shot 2014-11-18 at 3.27.22 AMOkay, I admit it.  I’m a Bigfoot fan.  It’s a blast.  It’s far more fun that UFOs where far too many people take themselves far too seriously.  They believe themselves, after awhile.  I did not believe that sort of thing, until I moved to New Mexico, where, I confess, I’m about an hour or so away from Roswell.  And, no, I’ve not seen any alien life-forms that are not human.  I’ve seen some humans I wonder about, but it’s more a sub-human thing.  I’ve also noticed there is a direct coloration between UFOs and the consumption of adult beverages.  I want to believe.  I’ve seen a couple very strange things, but I also live on a direct flight path from Holloman AFB and White Sands Missile Range.  There’s a heck of a lot of weird stuff out there, and we’re basically behind it.  Not long after I moved to Lincoln County, everyone was talking about this massive green flash in the night sky – laser weaponry tests.  I’ve also had the opportunity to meet life-long residents of the area.  One guy told me, knowing the population of the region the way he does, if there were UFOs, you would get more than a few liquored-up cowboys firing at it.  Liquored-up  cowboys talk.  They can’t keep their mouths shut.  I learned that you can ply them with beer and a Jack chaser and get all sorts of information out of them.  I did this for my first novel.

My first neighbor, living where I do, was also a life-long resident of Roswell.  She told me that she was very good friends of the guy who was the funeral director who was asked about little caskets.  He told her something weird happened, but that was all he knew.  I met one of the ranchers who owned the property where something happened.  He said something weird happened.  I’ve been left with the opinion that something weird happened – what – I have no idea.  I do know that Wernher von Braun was choppered to the site, almost immediately.  That alone absolutely fascinates me.  Of all the facts of the affair, the fact that von Braun was sent in, immediately, interests me the most.  The rancher and his wife told me that they were threatened, told to keep quiet.  They did for 50 years.  I was able to confirm their credibility, and know who they were related too.  Something happened, but who knows what it was.  I do have a tendency, though, to think it was either ours or something Soviet.

Let’s fast forward to the whole Bigfoot fun stuff.  I don’t go out in the woods.  I don’t do ‘nature’.  I watch the television show and listen to things on the radio.  I’ve talked to people.  I’ve heard stories that are a little scary.  I know the person who is sometimes called in to track what-ever it is that once in awhile peeps women in their bathrooms, in a certain location.  The women who were peeped were freaked.  I would be, too.  I’ve never seen one and don’t want to see one.  I know several people who have, my grandmother included.  At least I think it is what she saw.  When I finally asked my mother about it, a few years ago, she said that is what she had seen. My mother has been curious about them for at least a good 25 years.

I was just a kid. The incident predated the Patterson film by a few years.  The grandparents had a summer home in North Carolina.  My grandfather had bought quite a bit of mountain property, way back in the middle of nowhere.  Like Gilligan’s Island, it was primitive as could be with no phone or television, and very limited radio reception. If you wanted to use the phone, from my grandparents’ summer home, it was at least a 30 minute drive.  When my father was seriously injured in an accident, years later, there was still no phone.  By the time I could get to a phone, my mother and a friend were half-way down the mountain to South Carolina, where the ER physician, a good friend (his daughter was with me) said it was no use sending an ambulance.  They could reach the hospital before the ambulance could find them!  It was that remote.

As the oldest grandchild, I was the one who was able to spend the most time with the grandparents.  I would spend weeks at a time up on the mountain with them.  That specific time, my grandfather – Grandy, had driven down to SC, to deal with some cows.  Owning a major dairy, it was always about a cow!  They were haying on the mountain property.  Nana always loved walking along the dirt road in the late afternoon. It was a good half mile from the house my parents renovated to the hollow where my grandparents had their place.  Nana would spend days  up there, alone, she loved it so much.

Anyone who has ever grown up in the country knows the wonderful aroma of newly mowed hay.  The evenings are also full of tiny gnats, stirred up by the process.  Nana and I were walking along the road, nearly at the old house my parents were going to being renovating.  There was and still is an old spring house, dating from before the Civil War, on the property.  Once the house was renovated, we spent hours playing in it.  We never did understand why there would be such large men’s footprints in the mud.  Only during the past few years have I realized just what those footprints were.  Today, I’d be freaked.  Heck, we never even mentioned it to anyone.  They were always in the back of the spring house, having churned up mud we could never contain.  We would work to try and dam the water, to have a place to go wading.  Every morning the dam would have been destroyed.  We never thought about it.

Nana and I were a couple hundred feet, on the driveway, from the spring house.  She stopped walking and told me to be quiet.  There was a strange noise in it.  I asked if it was a mountain lion or a wild cat.  She told me that had to be it.  We needed to walk back to the house, as quickly as possible, which we did.  Once we reached the little intersection where friends would drive past, on the way to their house, Nana hung a message board.  When the message board was up on their sign post, the neighbors were to stop and come down, as quickly as possible.

They did.  They immediately drove us down the mountain to call my grandfather.  By this time it was fairly late.  Because it was mid-summer, I’d say we were pushing 10PM.  Planning to spend the night at their house in SC, my grandfather was back up the mountain by midnight.  We drove back down to Fair Play, where we lived (my grandparents also had a house there – they lived in Florida).  I never heard them talk about it.  My grandmother never, ever again stayed up on the mountain alone.  She always had someone with her.  She never, again, ever, went for another walk along that road.  She also kept an old-fashioned Cold .45 in her cosmetic case, locked.   It was only a few years ago, about the time the Bigfoot shows began to appear, that my mother, when I thought about it, told me that is what Nana saw.  According to my mother, there was continuing activity, until the day they sold the property, about 15 years ago.

So, I am interested.  I’ve been told things, locally to the point where I know that cops won’t advertise what they know, but they aren’t oppressed about it.  The local forest service won’t talk about it – and I’ve asked.  I think it would make a great article, and even a good novel.  No one says a thing, until you start getting stories out of them.  I’ve now heard so many local stories, that there is something out there.  I don’t mind admitting that very few of us walk our dogs after dark.  I know for a fact that our friendly local mountain lion lives in a culvert near where I do.  They’ve seen javalina and even gray wolves around here.  You don’t go out, after dark, period.

I was listening to one of the BlogTalkRadio Bigfoot shows.  One of the people who call in, regularly, is allegedly a cop who, from what I can tell, lives and works near Alamogordo.  When he started talking about the possibility of a  Bigfoot killing Albert Fountain and his son, and being involved in the murder of the original owner of Dog Canyon, well – he lost me.  Everyone knows Oliver Lee was involved in both incidents.  I also suspect he was either involved in, or knew who murdered Pat Garrett, but that’s a different story.

There is this entire line of conspiracy theories which sound just like the Bigfoot version of Men in Black (not the movie) intimidating UFO witnesses.  Allegedly, according to the conspiracy, it is about protecting the economy of this nation.  If people knew how many there were, and how violent they were, the entire outdoor industry in this country would collapse.  The logging industry would die a miserable death.  And so – there are people from Homeland Security who intimidate cops who are investigating Bigfoot.  They lose their jobs.  They are then contacted by ‘friends’ who allegedly tell them about a conspiracy, that is basically the same as the UFO conspiracy, just change the critters, agency, and edit the stories a little bit.

Let’s get the story straight.  There are so many of these things out there, that they would bring our outdoor economy to a screeching halt.  They would then go to war against humanity, like a pissed off Wookie, pulling people’s arms out of the sockets when they lose.   The government is either protecting the creatures or humanity.  I don’t think the so-called cops know which is which.  They prowl campgrounds, slaughtering and probably eating campers.  Come on people, if this were to happen, you think it wouldn’t be all over the news? Oh, wait, it’s a cover-up, just like the murder of Albert Fountain and his son by a rampaging Bigfoot.

These people hate the Finding Bigfoot cast.  They don’t like the BFRO, who go out and investigate sightings the way MUFON investigates UFOs.  Oh, wait, the government infiltrated MUFON and is infiltrating the BFRO.  Unfortunately, I knew someone who was one of the guys the Air Force had assigned to investigate with Project Blue Book.  His was a different story.  Frankly, I think it is a case of a different monster, the Green-Eyed one. The Finding Bigfoot people are making money.  They are cashing in on their celeb status, doing Bigfoot cons, writing books, and getting paid to show up places where these people stand behind the rope line, shouting questions.

I think we’ve both come to the same conclusion.

Beam me up, Scotty, as quickly as possible!

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