I'm Lauren Norton, and this is one strange thing, the show where we search the nation's news archives for stories that can't quite be explained. The summer of 2016, it was a simpler time.

Now, hear us out.

It was a period before we fully understood the implications of what it means when everyone can start a podcast.

It was quieter, and most importantly, it was the season of Pokemon Go.

Briefly, that summer, the whole world, young and old and in-between, were fixated on the

prospect of catching them all. Whatever a snorlax or a gummy is, we sure did want to find them,

combing maps of our neighborhoods, racing to local landmarks, tossing digital

balls at augmented reality scenes through our camera lenses, playing in our world. But with a fun

little pastel-colored alien creature thingy, and getting our steps in, strangers, it was as pure and joyful a cultural phenomenon

as we've ever experienced. Of course, nothing good and pure last long in this zeitgeist. Eventually,

there's always some dark twist, isn't there? For Pokemon Go, it was the fear-mongering that follows

whenever young people collectively decide to enjoy something. First, the rumors began, namely that

Pokemon Go was leading people to shadowy culty monuments deep in the woods, which it wasn't,

or onto private property on which they were shot at, as far as we know they weren't,

or to perish in distracted driving accidents, which they did not.

As Snopes.com will tell you, all those very real stories that circulated in 2016

proved to be, well, very fake stories.

Pokemon Go was not leading anyone to their doom.

But that's not to say that things didn't get weird. Or that during

that time, some well, downright unearthly creatures didn't make any appearances here on the earth

that we see with our eyes and not our camera phones. Maybe all that exploring just gave

us extra opportunities to spot them. And that's where today's story begins. The year was, of course,

...