Sierra National Forest, California 1963

I was deer hunting with a party of relatives in the south end of the Sierra National Forest in the Fall of 1963.  I would have to look-up on old maps to determine a more exact location, but I remember that we had gone to this particular spot because it was as far into the woods as our 2-wheel vehicles would take us, and where a long jeep trail into the wilderness began.  We had traveled most of the wee hours of the night to get to the spot.  Before daylight we split-up and entered the woods to try to establish stands for the days hunt.  I reached a likely spot at about daybreak and settled down to wait.  I had fallen timber concealing me in every direction, and yet enough open lanes of sight that I felt that I could see any animal or hunter that might approach.   I had a bottle of "Buck Scent" which I sprinkled liberally on the bushes and my clothing to cover my scent.  It worked well.  Two deer with spikes about 12 inches long came down the slope toward me and stopped about 1 foot off the end of my gun barrel.  Their nearness made me nervous.  I rose to one knee and tried to shoo them away.  All they did was stomp the ground and snort at me.  I could not shoot them legally, so I had to get rid of them.  Finally, I carefully rose to my full height, waved my arms and shouted at them, and they left.  An hour or so later, another deer approached from my left and stood behind a fallen log and stared at me for the space of perhaps ten minutes before it finally turned and bounded into the woods.

A couple of hours passed with nothing further happening to break the stillness.   The flies and bees droned.  The sun got warmer and I got sleepier.   Having gotten little sleep the night before, I decided to stretch out and take a short nap.  In moments I was sawing logs.  I don't know how long I slept, but I awoke with the odd sensation that I was being observed.  Expecting to sit up and see yet another curious yearling scoping me out, I carefully sat up with my gun in my hands and looked around.  There in front of me and not over 10 feet away was an "individual" of considerable bulk and stature, rapidly striding silently away from me at an angle.  I say "individual", as at that moment I thought another hunter had discovered me asleep, and I felt rather foolish about it.  Nevertheless, I called out to the "other hunter" to ask him if he had seen anything, and to perhaps impress him with my earlier sightings that might vindicate my hunting/sleeping technique.  He made no response to me whatsoever, and vanished into the forest so completely and quickly, that I could not hear his progress away from me, or see him when I had risen to my feet a moment later.    

What I had seen, was a creature covered with grayish-black hair whose head had a pointed quality toward the rear, not rounded as a man would have.   It was not as pointed in configuration as a hooded jacket or sweater might have been, and it was not a material, but rather fur or hair.  Also, I could not distinguish facial contours of skin tones as one would expect to see at the edge of a hood.  Any skin about the face was the same color as the fur covering the head.   The creature was only visible to me from about the waist upwards, as logs obscured my view of him below that.  He had the appearance of muscular bulk, like one would expect to see at Muscle Beach.  And his height had to have been at least 6 feet 6 inches tall.  His stealth in the woods was remarkable.  The ground everywhere about that area was covered with branches and debris from the fallen trees, but he made no sound, and moved very deliberately and rapidly away from me, with no regard for my hail.   I cannot imagine another hunter looking like that, or disregarding my call in the midst of the perfectly quiet woods. 

When I later saw Roger Patterson's film footage, I was struck by the similarities between my sighting and what he captured on film.  

-Jack Graham

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