I've been following the discussion surrounding the new Capturing Bigfoot documentary, and I've noticed quite a few people questioning whether Sasquatch exists at all. Some skeptics seem ready to throw dirt on the grave of the entire phenomenon. I wanted to share something that happened to me years ago, because regardless of what happens with the Patterson-Gimlin film, I still have to reconcile something I saw with my own eyes.
I was attending college in Fairbanks, Alaska in 2000. It was springtime, the leaves had returned to the trees and the grass was green again. One evening, between studying, I decided to head down the hill from the university to get something to eat. I can't remember what I ate, but I'm sure it was delicious because just about anything tasted good going into a starving college student's stomach back then. It was around midnight when I started walking back uphill toward the university. I had my headphones on and was following the sidewalk when I became aware of something off to my side. There was a steep hillside with a stairway zigzagging up the incline, and something was standing beside the stairs, partway up the slope.
At first, and this is the absolute truth, I thought I was looking at a Black man in a big, puffy fur jacket. It was tall and broad, but I'm a big man myself, 6'5" and about 250 pounds at the time, so I wasn't particularly alarmed. I just kept walking. But after a few steps, I started thinking about how absurd what I'd just seen actually was. Why would someone be standing on that steep incline, away from the stairway, in the middle of the night? So I stopped, removed my headphones, turned around and took a really good look.
Whatever it was, it was standing on two feet. Clearly bipedal. It had remarkably broad shoulders and a thick, wide neck that narrowed toward the head. The head itself was shaped more like an ape's than a human's. Its body narrowed considerably at the hips, and its legs were long. The fur appeared to have a ginger colour to it, although I've always acknowledged that the amber streetlighting could have influenced what I was seeing. There wasn't enough light for me to make out its facial features clearly. And strangely enough, I still wasn't particularly frightened. Not until it turned and looked at me.
I don't know how to adequately describe what happened inside me at that moment. Something took over. It was a kind of primal, overwhelming fight-or-flight response that I'd never experienced before and haven't experienced since. I ran as hard as I could up that hill. I didn't look back. The entire way, I had this terrible feeling that whatever I'd seen was right behind me, even though rationally I knew that probably wasn't the case. For some perspective, I spent nearly 30 years living in Alaska. I've been charged by an angry bull moose. I've been in close proximity to grizzly bears and cougars. I've had experiences with large, dangerous animals that most people will never have. None of those experiences produced anything remotely resembling the fear I felt when that thing turned and looked at me. It was almost a cleansing fear. Something so absolute and overwhelming that everything else ceased to exist except the need to get away.
I returned to the location later with a couple of friends. I wanted to see exactly where it had been standing and whether there was anything that might help explain what I'd seen. I didn't find footprints, but the ground was dry, so that wasn't particularly surprising. What did surprise me was the scale. I went to the spot where I believed it had been standing and reached toward a branch that had been near its head. Even at 6'5", I couldn't reach it with my fingertips.
I've spent years going back over that night in my head. I've questioned what I saw, considered the lighting, the circumstances, the possibility that I misidentified something. I don't bring it up very often because, frankly, most people aren't particularly receptive to stories like this. But with the Patterson-Gimlin film being challenged so forcefully right now, I wanted to offer a different perspective. I don't know whether Roger Patterson filmed a real animal in 1967. I don't know whether somebody made an extraordinarily convincing costume. I don't know what the newly discovered footage ultimately proves, and I'm perfectly willing to consider the possibility that the original film was a hoax. But none of that changes what happened to me on that hillside in Fairbanks.
I don't believe in Sasquatch because of television shows, documentaries, internet communities, or some romantic attachment to the idea that there's still a mysterious creature wandering around the wilderness. I believe I encountered something that people have called Sasquatch, Bigfoot, Hairyman, and a dozen other names. I believe it because I saw it, and whatever that thing was, I will never forget the moment it turned and looked at me. So, for those of you who are feeling discouraged by the recent documentary, or who think that proving the Patterson-Gimlin film fraudulent would somehow settle the entire question, I just wanted to share my experience. I can't prove to you what I saw. I know that. But I'm positive there's something out there, and it scared the absolute shit out of me.