Hebbardsville, KY 11-06
(The names of the locations in this report have been intentionally altered.)
Not long ago I learned from a local paranormal investigator friend of mine about an old Cherokee fellow who also claimed to be a Hebbardsville bigfoot witness. A phone interview was arranged and conducted in Nov., 2006. The information proved correct. Not only did the witness describe repeated, often at will, sightings of groups of these creatures since his childhood, he also claimed to be in possession of what he was convinced was an actual tooth, which he described as a canine, from one of these creatures. Moreover he could describe, in great detail, the physiological features, general attitudes and behavior of these mysterious “Hillbillies’, known to the rest of the world as ‘Bigfoot’. After several more phone interviews a meeting was arranged and, under the promise of strict anonymity, M.F. (not his real initials) agreed to allow me to photograph the alleged bigfoot canine for possible identification. I arrived on the 17th of Dec., 2006. M. F. Lived only a short drive from the Hebbardsville area, only a twenty minute drive from my own doorstep. I found the gentleman to be pleasant, friendly, down to earth and of obvious intelligence. He immediately pulled the tooth out of his pocket. It did resemble a human canine, or eye, tooth, only about three times as large. I examined it and noted the obvious authenticity and great antiquity of the object, taking several photographs. It was complete with root system still attached. He would allow no DNA testing, he had told me during one of our phone conversations, because to do this would mean that at least a partial destruction of the tooth would occur. Nor would he allow it to depart his possession in any way. As a matter of fact, he didn’t really care at all to try and prove the existence of these things to anyone. They had always been a fact of life to his own people. Evidence of his Cherokee heritage was strewn about his yard, flower beds and doorsteps, and worn proudly around his neck. They were the ‘Old People of the Forest’, he told me, and their reality caused no controversy except to the whites. It would be amusing if not for the fact that, in their ignorance, the logging and mining of the white man was causing the rapid desecration and destruction of the bigfoot’s habitat. Land considered sacred by the Indians since the beginning of history. There was daylight left. He asked me if I cared to take a ride. M. F.’s story was an interesting one. He had first been exposed to the creatures while growing up in the Spottsville, Reed areas, although at least two earlier generations of his family had their own tales of sightings and strange happenings. He remembered his great grandfather recounting how he had run outside one night after he’d heard some kind of commotion to see one of the old people carrying off two of his full grown sows, one under each arm like they were piglets. It swiftly made its escape even though the pigs weighed about 200 lbs. each! Around the time of the “Spottsville Monster” events his brother was finding strangely mutilated dead cattle. He had lost six head that year. Literally. All six carcasses were found with their heads torn off and missing. They only found one head, he claimed, and it was stripped to the bone and missing the lower mandible. None of the other meat on the carcasses was consumed. When the family moved across the Green River to Hebbardsville the sightings continued. In fact, he claimed that from the late 1960’s until the early to mid 70’s hardly any weekend went by when he and a car load of friends didn’t park near the intersection of Ash Flats and Old Bell roads and observe groups of these creatures, ranging in number from four individuals up to as many as fifteen or better, engaged in the act of eating bitter roots and grass. Countless sightings, he claimed, by dozens of different individuals. “Were they hairy Indians?” I asked. No, he said. They were not Indians of any type. They had black skin and an average size of eight to ten feet tall, although he had seen one awhile back that was at least a twelve footer. Their eyes were a dark brown color with no visible whites or irises. They were bearded, had thin lips, a weak chin and a flat, wide nose like individuals of African descent. They had normal looking hands of a large size with pale colored palms, but their feet had an opposing toe sticking out at an angle away from the other four toes, like an ape’s or chimp’s. They had extremely long arms which hung down past their knees and could run quadrupedally 35 to 40 mph. The females also possessed beards, though shorter than the males. They were of more stocky build, had furry breasts and carried their young beneath them clinging to their bellies. He described the males as being covered with short, straight, usually dark hair, with longer areas of about six inches at the beard, backs of the head and genital areas. “Pull over here”. He said as we approached a medium sized muddy creek at the Old Bell, Ash Flats location. I pulled over and we got out. This was the location, he told me, that he and scores of friends had witnessed these creatures feeding countless times. They didn’t seem to mind being watched, he said. Unless someone got out of the car. Then they would all rush into the creek and be gone in an instant. They traveled the creeks, he claimed. The water would wash away the tracks and they were excellent swimmers if the water was up. After photographing the location I asked him if he could take me to where he found the tooth. He would take me there, he replied, if I promised never to disclose the location. It was a sacred place, he explained. A burial place of the Cherokee people and home to other powerful legendary beings as well as the old people. I agreed and we got back into my four wheel drive. We traveled a short distance from the Pleasant Hill area and stopped. “Follow me…” he said, and started up a thickly forested ridge. Although he was nearly 60 years old he ascended the steep terrain as nimbly as a jack rabbit and, after a short but vigorous trek, we crested another large hill and stopped. “Look freely.” he said. “Take pictures, but nothing else”. I looked around. We stood at the rim of a forested ridge which wound around the area like a dark circle, forming an impressive natural amphitheater. The bottom of the ‘bowl’ formation was mostly clear and somehow comfortable looking even now. All around me were graves, stacked in layers. Some ancient beyond reckoning. Many were marked with stones onto which Cherokee pictographs and letters were carved. I had hunted Indian artifacts nearly all my life but had never seen a single stone in Henderson county bearing intact Native American images or writing. Now I was surrounded by them. “This place is called “The Great Hill” by my people.” The Great Hill. Here was buried the bodies of the famous Cherokee chieftain, Double Head, his daughter, Corn Blossom and countless others. I snapped pictures one after another while the sunlight faded much too swiftly. Daniel Boone, pioneer hero of old, had written of this place. Twice he was held captive here and twice he was freed or escaped. Two heavily weathered stones still bore his name and short messages, carved there by Boone’s own hand during his captivity. Still other stones were carven with images of corn stalks, deer and sun. Three stones contained the likenesses of strange faces. No one knew who most of the graves belonged to. Great chiefs of antiquity whose names were lost forever. Stone circles were present. Raking back the dead leaves revealed a wealth of flint artifacts still lying where their makers had placed those generations ago. During heavy rains some of the graves would wash out, M. F. told me. He had needed to re-inter some of the bones on occasion. He had found the tooth several years ago here, at the foot of the hill, washed up by the rushing water. No other creature of this area had teeth like it, he felt sure. With his help I was able to sketch a facial study of these particular humanoid’s features for all to view. I would like to express my gratitude to this man for agreeing to speak with me, sharing some secrets and showing me such interesting, and historically significant locations. Locations unlike any other that I have ever personally witnessed.