|Jackson County, Prospect Oregon|
(Union Creek) 2001|
Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son
and I were on our way from Boise, Idaho to Medford,
Oregon. We had a car trailer
to his old place in Boise in order to haul his
non-running jeep to his new place in Medford.
We hit an area of heavy snow in the
southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45
minutes or so to get down the mountain.
We had of course been drinking coffee to
About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious
that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained.
We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer
tourist haunt; deserted in winter. There is a gas station
and ice cream joint on the west
side of the road, closed at this time of year and no town or
settlement within 30 miles.
This is tall timber country and unsettled. Across
the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is
paved and about 200 ft. wide and 80 ft. deep. I pulled in and
as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash
that grabbing the 590 mossy would be good.
As we walked to the far end of the area to be well
off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood
on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth
of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and
cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground and with a moon that
was almost full, so we could see quite well.
While standing and taking a leak with my son about
15 to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front
of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY
back and forth in sort of a thatch weave pattern.
These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft. tall,
thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned
fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up with the safety off, as
my son was drawing his .45.
I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming
feeling of menace, but here goes. I had been operating on pure
instinct since I stepped from the pickup, the rotten feeling hit me
a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?,
was that we were prey and subject to a very bad death and
to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling
and massively overwhelming.
As they were moving around in front of us, more
appeared, and mixed among them, all the while running about fast in
front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT
present my back to them some of them peeled off right and left
in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from
the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence.
We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline ready to kill,
as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,
locked doors. I had keys out and ready as my butt neared the seat,
I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed
in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled!
something VERY close by let out a undulating scream of rage,
and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really
close to us in their persuit and I ran over the foot of one of them,
yeah they were that close.
We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the
bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed
to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles
before the feeling of grave danger started to abate.
The feeling that nailed both of us as we discussed soon
afterward, was one of being prey and soon to be slaughtered and eaten.
I'm not easily and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot,
ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical.
My son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months
later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south
of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he
had ever heard of any strange goings-on in in the area.
Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above
tale. He says to avoid the place at night.
A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights
of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from
a year before. I told my wife of this event of course; she looked
at me at the beginning as though I had developed a third eyeball
in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did
believe me, but did not wish to hear any of the details. She said the
tale gave her chills. Me too as I write this, hair on the back of my
neck and forearms is sticking up.
I have NOT gone back to explore and would not without
a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with
me. My son and I are sane, sober persons, and not taken to
hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired.
We saw and smelled what was there.
As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the
creatures. They were silent until I heard one as we were getting
the hell out of there.
To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is
nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old
legends and folk tales of were creatures.
To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's
"Hell, I was there".