I'm in my early 50s now and I never had any interest in Bigfoot until about seven years ago.

At that time, we moved from Massachusetts to western North Carolina.

Financially, the move was ideal. We were able to buy a bigger house on a little acreage and still pay lower taxes.

I'm a contractor, so within a month of moving in, I began building an addition off my kitchen.

Typical of all renovations, there were pallets of wood shingles and such in the yard in a big

dumpster where a few times late at night I'd heard some strange noises.

We were in a fairly remote area, so I rode it off as a bear rummaging through the dumpster.

But just to be safe, I told my kids not to go near it, and I didn't give it

much more thought. One night in early November, around 11 p.m., my wife and I heard grunting

and other odd sounds out behind the new addition. I couldn't really see anything from my bedroom

window, so I decided to be slick.

I grabbed a flashlight and I went out the front door with an idea of sneaking around and surprising whatever was out there.

In the dark, I crept around the back.

I skirted the garage and then, in the last second, I flipped on the flashlight pointing it in the direction of the

noise. Standing 25 feet in front of me was the ugliest monster I have ever seen. I felt my heart

physically stopped. I was frozen in my tracks but my mind was going a thousand directions at once.

This thing was maybe a foot taller than me and dragging a deer behind it.

I was on the uphill end of an incline, so I might be off a little on the height.

Its face was like the Neanderthal in the Thim and Us book except its eyes and

nose were a little more human. I could not believe what I was seeing. After a few seconds,

instinct overruled my mind. I dropped the flashlight and I ran. White men may not have jumping skills, but that night I

proved, given the right motivation, running is not a problem. I careened around the garage,

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