When you see something strange, how do you explain to yourself what you saw? What was that? What did I see? And if the answers amount to something that doesn't exist to your knowledge or that of others, where do you go from there? Welcome to strange and unexplained

with me, Daisy Egan. I could have sworn I saw Bigfoot loping down Main Street the other day.

It was dusk, and as I drove toward him, his figure loomed ahead in silhouette. I thought, well, that's odd, Bigfoot

just walking down the street in the suburbs of Rhode Island on a Tuesday evening. As I got closer,

however, I realized it was just a guy we call Seth who lives down our street and takes a couple

of daily walks to the local Duncan. But for a minute there, I was excited to finally have

my own encounter. Nothing spooky ever happens to me. I've never seen a ghost or even had one

tug at my covers in the middle of the night. I've never seen an alien, and I've never seen a cryptid.

I'd like to. I do want to believe. But at the same time,

I believe that most weird things have a rational, non-paranormal type explanation. I am both

Mulder and Scully. I am Scullder, if you will. Even when I took hallucinogens in my younger days, I never saw things that weren't there.

Sure, colors got brighter and things sometimes swirled around, but I never sat there talking

to an imaginary being that my mind had conjured up.

I never pointed something out to friends who told me there was nothing actually there.

I wonder if that's because the rational side of my brain won't turn off even with chemical

help. The closest I've come to hallucinating, I think, was hearing new things in songs I'd

listened to hundreds of times before, and I would think, I bet they put that in just for people who are

high, which is just about the most high kind of thought a high person can have.

I bring this all up because the witnesses in our story today were teenagers in 1977,

and while I have no evidence that they were indeed partaking in drugs,

it's hard to believe they weren't, all things considered. It was the 70s, man. And before we get

started, this story takes place in Dover, Massachusetts, so you better believe I will be doing the

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