My twin brother killed a bigfoot in the winter of 1977.

He told me only me about the events of the day and all that led to him pulling

the trigger. Wasn't a fantastic story a man in vents to gain attention because

no one knows about it. And even though our father and I knew that he had killed

a strange creature, all the details were taken to his grave. Only then did I

discover what he had actually done. It is a true story and I've seen the

proof, but I didn't have the proof in my hand until after my brother was

killed in an automobile crash in 1999. He wrote the account with a pencil in a

composition notebook. His wife remembers him working on the manuscript for days.

She would walk in the kitchen while he labored over his writing and he would

slam the notebook shut staring straight ahead at the wall while she poured a

glass of water or wipe the stove down. For a solid week she had little

conversation with him during the evening when their routine was to talk about

the day and the kids and the farm and everything else they knew about current

events. His secrecy made her uncomfortable because no other facet of his life

was this way. He closed a composition book for the last time after six

evenings of furious writing. The next day it was deposited in a lock box at the

bank. Upon returning home from the bank he gave his wife the key to the box and

had her sign the appropriate paper giving her access and he told her the

notebook should not be open unless he was dead and even then it should only be

given to his brother. He assured his wife that there were reasons for the

secrecy that she was better off not knowing. Everyone was safer not knowing.

...