Summer 1981 Faunsdale, Alabama
During the summer of 1981 my younger cousin John (12 years old) and myself (14 years old) were hunting rabbits on our family farm between Faunsdale and Uniontown, Alabama. We were about a mile from the farmhouse hunting a heavily wooded area that covers 50 or so acres and is bisected by a creek that flows from a small pond to the east. Keep in mind, that we knew this land like the backs of our hands and spent our entire lives up to this point roaming all 350 acres of pasture, woods, and bottom land. In our minds, we were masters of our domain. We had had no luck all morning scaring up any hares, and by early afternoon were about to pack it in. We were lounging under a mock orange tree when the wind shifted and the smell hit us. I can only describe it as roadkill mixed with skunk and wet bread. At first we figured something was dead like a stray dog or something, but it was far to ripe for that. We eased out from under the tree to investigate because I thought that one of our dairy cows that had died. As we approached the source of the smell, we saw movement through the timeline about 40 yards away. John thought it was a big dog at first. The closer it got, I thought it was a back bear. Then we both saw it was walking on two feat... and the fear hit us. John whispereed, "That ain't no bear... That's a dude." I said, "That ain't no dude... That's something else." All thought of the .22 rifle I had or the .410 shotgun John carried were forgotten. In an unspoken agreement we turned as one and ran like our lives depended on it. We didn't stop for the creek, barbed wire fences, ravines... Hell... We didn't stop until we were at the back steps of the farmhouse with Granny and Momma looking at us like we were crazy men. We didn't speak of it. never camped or hunted there again unless armed with serious firepower and in a group of 4 or more. I don't know what we saw, but the things that strike me after all the years is how other folks have described that smell, and "the fear", when they encountered those things. I don't care to speculate on whether they're good or evil, man or beast, natural or paranormal. I just know I never want to brush near one again.
During the summer of 1981 my younger cousin John (12 years old) and myself (14 years old) were hunting rabbits on our family farm between Faunsdale and Uniontown, Alabama. We were about a mile from the farmhouse hunting a heavily wooded area that covers 50 or so acres and is bisected by a creek that flows from a small pond to the east. Keep in mind, that we knew this land like the backs of our hands and spent our entire lives up to this point roaming all 350 acres of pasture, woods, and bottom land. In our minds, we were masters of our domain. We had had no luck all morning scaring up any hares, and by early afternoon were about to pack it in. We were lounging under a mock orange tree when the wind shifted and the smell hit us. I can only describe it as roadkill mixed with skunk and wet bread. At first we figured something was dead like a stray dog or something, but it was far to ripe for that. We eased out from under the tree to investigate because I thought that one of our dairy cows that had died. As we approached the source of the smell, we saw movement through the timeline about 40 yards away. John thought it was a big dog at first. The closer it got, I thought it was a back bear. Then we both saw it was walking on two feat... and the fear hit us. John whispereed, "That ain't no bear... That's a dude." I said, "That ain't no dude... That's something else." All thought of the .22 rifle I had or the .410 shotgun John carried were forgotten. In an unspoken agreement we turned as one and ran like our lives depended on it. We didn't stop for the creek, barbed wire fences, ravines... Hell... We didn't stop until we were at the back steps of the farmhouse with Granny and Momma looking at us like we were crazy men. We didn't speak of it. never camped or hunted there again unless armed with serious firepower and in a group of 4 or more. I don't know what we saw, but the things that strike me after all the years is how other folks have described that smell, and "the fear", when they encountered those things. I don't care to speculate on whether they're good or evil, man or beast, natural or paranormal. I just know I never want to brush near one again.
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