Here's a story from Matt, and this is really, really a good story.

He writes, I'm 61 years old.

I'm a retired 27-year law enforcement officer.

I served 10 years in the United States Army Reserves ending with the rank of Staff Sergeant.

I have only told one other person this story, and that was my younger brother.

I live in West Virginia and have most of my life.

In 1973, my brother, my cousin, my uncle, and a guy my uncle worked with at the time,

and I went on a camping fishing

trip to Cranberry Glades located in Pocahontas County, West Virginia. This area is vast and heavily

forested. No motorized vehicles are allowed into the camp area, so we hiked about a mile

into the camping area to set up our camp.

At the time I was 14 years old and like most teenage boys I was adventurous and not afraid to explore.

On the third day of our trip after breakfast, I decided I wanted to hike one of the many trails

that ran throughout the

area instead of going fishing with the others. The trails are marked and some go on for miles.

My uncle told me to stay on the trail and don't go so far. So I headed out. I walked the trail

for at least two hours taking in the sights and sounds of nature.

I came upon a meadow that I think was about a half acre in size, and out of the corner of my eye I saw

something big move across the meadow near the tree line. I stopped and I tried to identify

what I saw moving.

I walked a little further into the meadow gazing at a group of pine trees where I saw the movement.

I stood silently staring and then I saw something move again about 20 yards from me to my left.

...