Old Man Haunted by Bigfoot
What if it's True Podcast
Cameron Buckner
4.8 • 1.3K Ratings
🗓️ 12 October 2025
⏱️ 23 minutes
🧾️ Download transcript
Summary
In a smoky Nashville bar, the Jim buys a beer for the elderly, down-on-his-luck Samuel, a monthly regular living frugally on Social Security in a rooming house. Spotting Samuel's hunger, the narrator orders him food and invites him to join at his table. Over burgers and beers, the narrator introduces himself as Jim from Louisville, fresh from hurricane repair work in Florida. Samuel, born and raised in North Carolina's mountains, opens up about why he left his beloved home at 21—not for war or lack of work, but for a darker reason. Eager for steady pay during scarce times, young Samuel joined a logging company, impressing the foreman with his marksmanship and landing a job as an armed deputy enforcing land evictions on mountain families. Shunned by his community for aiding the bosses, Samuel grew isolated. The story's climax came during the third attempt to evict the reclusive Prater clan from their ancient 1,800-acre forest homestead, led by the fierce Mammy Prater. Using kidnapped six-year-old Jenny as leverage, the deputies arrived to collect weapons and demand departure. The Praters complied eerily, gathering to unleash a haunting, high-pitched chant that summoned massive, hairy ape-like beasts from the woods. The creatures slaughtered the entire eviction party in a frenzy of boulders, gunfire, and gore, sparing only Samuel after Mammy declared him a "token" to flee and never return or speak of it. Traumatized, Samuel was forever exiled from his home and family. Years later, tears in his eyes, he shares the tale with the narrator, who leaves unsettled—haunted by nightmares of the impossible horror, unsure if he believes it but forever changed by the old man's quiet burden.
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Transcript
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| 0:00.0 | I started coon hunting with hounds about 25 years ago. |
| 0:12.0 | I used to hunt in a lot of places I had never been to during the daylight. |
| 0:17.0 | I used to hunt by myself, but sometimes I would ride four-wheelers with a couple of old men who couldn't get around too good anymore. |
| 0:24.6 | Occasionally I would have to leave them and walk to the dogs if we couldn't get the four-wheelers to the tree. |
| 0:31.6 | On this particular night, the dogs treed in an area we didn't usually wind up in. We don't have vast tracks of |
| 0:40.3 | wilderness down here, but this place is about two miles from any road, though the railroad tracks |
| 0:45.8 | do run through it. At the time this happened, logging had just started, so most of this area |
| 0:51.9 | was still covered in big hardwood timber. |
| 0:55.8 | It's all gone now. |
| 1:01.9 | Me and the old boys went to get the dogs, and in the process, I got us turned around. |
| 1:06.1 | It was summertime, and most of the sluys were almost dry. |
| 1:08.7 | They were just heavy and thick mud. |
| 1:13.7 | I found one that was heading in the directions that I wanted to go, so I took it. |
| 1:21.6 | Almost immediately, I noticed a set of large barefoot tracks that had been made not too long ago, |
| 1:23.3 | sunk deep into the ground. |
| 1:29.5 | I can't say 100% for sure that Bigfoot made them, but who would be walking barefoot in a cotton-mouth infested river bottom? |
| 1:32.8 | After a little while, I knew where I was, and I stayed in the old slew bed. |
| 1:37.3 | We followed the tracks right up to the gas line that ran through the bottoms, which is about |
| 1:41.8 | 75 yards wide. |
| 1:46.4 | The tracks didn't lead into the gas line, which told me that whatever had made them had left the slew bed and stayed in the woods. |
| 1:53.3 | When we made it back to the truck, I asked one of the old boys what he thought of the tracks. |
| 1:58.3 | He said it was just some dopehead wandering around. I said the hell it was. |
... |
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