I'm 65 years old and I live in the sticks of Northeast Texas, down in the Sulphur River Bottoms area.

Yeah, I'm a redneck, she says.

I'm very proud of my heritage, but I'm also a college-educated business analysts.

So by both training in nature, I deal in

facts. As you probably know, there have been too many sightings here to count over the years.

Since 1975, when I was 18, I have joked that I had my own Bigfoot encounter while I was with my fiancé one late summer night.

We had turned off the farm to Market Road onto a blacktop that led to a dirt road.

Then we went through the gate into a cow pasture to discuss our upcoming wedding.

It was a warm summer night, so we had the windows down to catch

the breeze while we sat in the back seat and talked, among other things. That's what I was about to say,

Doddy. I don't think you just get in a back seat in a cow pasture. Just have a talk. Come on. In the

middle of our discussion, I heard something circling the car.

Well, it took a moment to get my fiancé to focus on the sound, and his response wasn't what I'd hope for.

That's just a cow walking around, he assured me, and then he sat up and announced, that's not a cow.

Now, we've had the rare black bear come down out of the Ozarks,

and cougars and large black cats have been seen on occasion,

but what I was hearing was not walking on four feet.

We both jumped up and put ourselves together and climbed into the front seat. My fiancé put the car

into drive and spun his tires in the wet grass for a minute and then headed for the gate.

I tried to tell him, just drive through it, but he insisted on opening it while I drove through.

He got out of the car and I slid into the driver's seat. I was watching my

fiancé through the rearview mirror when I saw something large coming at us really fast.

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