If there is any question in your mind about the legitimacy of Bigfoot, hopefully this story will help you become a believer.
One summer back in 1973, my buddies and I went to see a Saturday matinee: The Legend of Boggy Creek. We were about 12 years old and full of anticipation of seeing the Bigfoot monster. When the creature finally appeared and put its arm through the window of a single-wide, all of us screamed, almost as loud as the cry from the creature. Nevertheless, the creepy images and unnatural sounds from the cheesy documentary kept my imagination alive for a long time.
I was constantly aware of shadows and sounds in the night that could be Bigfoot. A few years later, I was on a backpack with the Boy Scouts. All of us Scouts swore we heard the eerie cry of something big, dark and abnormal. One boy claimed he saw a shadow of what he described as a giant ape-man. All of us at the campfire marveled at the prospect of actually being in the presence of such a beast. Of course, our Scoutmaster added fuel to the fire with subtle suggestions just before we returned to our defenseless, orange tube tents. We were terrified.
Fast forward ten years. It was October in the early 80s. Tim, Dean and I were in college, looking for ways to make a buck. We came across an opportunity to clean out a friend’s storage unit. The job was easy; clean the trash out from a unit.
Tim, Dean and I were childhood friends and neighbors. We were also notorious for getting into mischief. Dean and I were no strangers to dumpster-diving. In junior high school, we used to tour the local business dumpsters for treasure.
“Big Dean” circa 1986
This time, however, we hit the mother-load: Still in the box lay a complete gorilla suit. I yelled out to Dean who is 6′ 5″ and 250 pounds. He picked up the suit with a wry smile and walked into the storage unit with the suit in-hand and tried it on. The head of the suit was about four inches higher than Dean’s head, making him appear frighteningly immense. So we made plans.
We knew we would not make any money from this suit, but we also knew we had to use it for a prank. We lived near a mountain road that winds up from the foothills of LA into an evergreen forest. The highway can be daunting at night, especially with a thick fog. So we waited until the skies were overcast and made our plans.
The Prank
The three of us wore dark clothes and dark hats. Dean squeezed into the black, hairy suit and we drove up the winding road for what we planned on being the prank of the decade.
With no moon that night, the fog made visibility about 20 feet at best. Once we got to a straightaway, we pulled off at the first available turnout and parked the car.
The road was lined with trees. The air was still and quiet; a prefect night for a Bigfoot sighting!
The plan was to have Dean hide behind a tree near the side of the road. Tim and I would be on the other side to direct him. When we saw the lights of a car in the distance, we would cue Dean. He would lunge across the road, hopefully creating a silhouette of Bigfoot strolling across the highway.
We didn’t have to wait long for our first victim; within minutes, two bright, headlights illuminated the fog, slowly heading toward us. We waited until the car was about 50 feet from us and we cued Dean. With the posture of an ape, he leisurely walked across the road, stopping once on the center line to look as if startled. The car slowed down and Dean continued into the forest and disappeared. The driver immediately took off.
The three of us laughed hysterically. Moments later, we heard another car in the distance. Dean ran to the side of the road and repeated the stunt. This time, the car slowed down–almost to a stop. A man rolled down his window and looked out as if he’d see ghost.
His head panned as we heard him say to his passenger, “I know I saw it–it went in right here!” The woman by his side sounded panicked and insisted that he not stop, but to get the heck out of there!
The prank was going great up until a white, late 60s Ford pickup with gun racks pulled over to get a closer look at the illusive Sasquatch. The three of us almost panicked. Although we didn’t see any rifles on the racks, it was not a good sign.
We remained calm as a middle-aged man in a red and black plaid jacket and boots stood in front of his truck looking for what he thought was… who knows what! All I could hear was my heart beat in my throat and Dean’s deep breathing inside the thick, rubber mask. None of us said a word. As far as we knew, he was “carrying” and we had no intention of becoming the latest trophy on his wall.
Eventually, the curious driver got back into his truck and drove away.
We were done. We had our fun—we had our story.
Over the next couple of weeks we poured through the local newspapers, looking for a “BIGFOOT SIGHTING” story. It never happened.
The three of us are now in our 50s and still love telling the story. Perhaps we are not the only ones telling it…?