BIGFOOT SAW ME.
But nobody believes him.
--T-shirt at the Bigfoot Museum, Sutton, WV.
En route we saw some UFOs.
As we wound our way through the hills and mountains of West Virginia, three bright, spherical objects came into view, moving against the blue sky. While we could not be certain, we both thought that they were hot air balloons. Perhaps some kind of balloon festival was happening in the area.
Gradually, the power lines--- rather high in the air-- came into view. Our eyes adjusted-- mine in rapid glances, since I had the wheel. With only the sky as a frame of reference, we had misjudged both distance and size of the objects. These were brightly-coloured marker balls, a safety measure so that low-flying planes and helicopters remain aware of the power lines. Their apparent movement came about because we were moving relative to them.
It took perhaps fifteen seconds for the objects to cease being unidentified and flying, and the incident served as a reminder of the flaws and processes in human perception as we drove into cryptid country.
We stopped in Parsons for a refill and snacks. Appropriate to our purpose, we encountered a folklorist in the parking lot.
September 12, 2024 represents the twenty-second anniversary of the single undisputed sighing of the Flatwoods Monster. A small group saw the creature for seconds, in the dark, while trying to find a UFO they thought might have landed nearby. The craft in question can be identified with reasonable certainty as a meteor that passed over three states, including West Virginia, that night. The timing is right, and because of the difficulty assessing the distance and size of objects in the sky, especially at night, people frequently imagine that meteors heading earthwards have landed nearby.
In any case, the group-- one woman, some young boys (including her own sons), a local teenage national guardsman, and a dog-- entered the woods with a flashlight. A creature apparently came screeching towards them, with claws (according to some) and bright eyes. They ran. A legend was born.
The Flatwoods Monster. The Flatwoods Alien-- much of its popularity comes from its times, the 1950s Flying Saucer craze in its heyday. The Braxton County Monster. Braxie. The Phantom of Flatwoods. The Green Monster-- a colour not every witness saw.
Flatwoods remains small, with a population of about 300. The Spot, a local diner, trades heavily on the monster, and Braxton County has four chairs in the shape of their local cryptid spread throughout the region, which itself has fewer than 13,000 residents. I bought a milkshake there for less than $5.00. Martin & Lewis. It was a pretty frikkin' good shake. We wandered around, took in the relevant locations. It doesn't take long to walk a community of 300 people. Cheerful reminders of the monster are scattered about. The actual location sits on private property, so we did not go up that hill. It's not as though, 70+ years later, we were going to find some clue or insight overlooked lo these many years.
The relevant museum actually stands in Sutton, WV, about fifteen minutes away by car. Its population is about 1000. The location has long been a stopping point for travellers. Midway between the two towns one may find a couple of motels, and a hotel on a hill with an excellent view. We stayed there. There's also a Wal-Mart and some other businesses that have mushroomed nearby, meaning that residents have to leave either town to purchase much of anything. Granted, they don't have to travel far. It might pose problems for those without a car, however, or significant mobility issues.
The Braxton County High School sits a short distance down the road.
We turned the TV on in our room. The Beverly Hillbillies. It seemed suitably rural, and better than Fox News. We chose the hotel over the motels because of the view, the included breakfast, and the laundry facilities. We needed to clean some clothes after our days in D.C.
The fact that it was hosting a small Flatwoods Monster Convention on Saturday came as news to us.
"You can't decide what you're famous for."
--Andrew Smith
We went into Sutton on Friday the 13th.
The Flatwoods Monster Museum, curated by one Andrew Smith, was worth the visit. It has been operating since 2018, opened in part by Smith's prompting. They're trying to collect everything related to the brief but much-publicized incident, from witness testimony to the numerous toys and tchotchkes manufactured over the years that represent the creature. A large model appears near the door-- the witnesses had no consensus on the apparition's size, though "nine feet tall" gets repeated often in lore and literature. It looks like a Flatwoods Monster: red and green with prominent eyes, raptor claws on its arms, and a green dress- or robe-like body. There are other models as well. The youth group from the local Landmark Studio for the Arts, which performs in a converted church, adapted the story into a play some years back. Their costume is a brilliant piece of bricolage, with a body made from a dyed Braxton High School graduation gown and a head built around a very large pie platter. A prize-winning home-made child's Halloween costume has a place of pride.
Smith knew nearly everything about the local legend, and he noted that, once the museum opened, people just sent them things. Someone made a small diorama. For my part, I pointed them in the direction of a 1975 issue of the comic UFO Flying Saucers, which features a wildly inaccurate retelling of the story. The artist did not bother looking up any references, so his monster is entirely off-brand, a green-skinned pointy-eared claw-handed alien from central casting.
We made a handful of purchases, including a cryptid colouring book. My friend "Detroit" texts in response to a photograph of my wife holding the book up, saying we will need to find all of the creatures in it so that we can colour them correctly. The book ultimately went to D.S. Barrick, with whom I'm collaborating on the book. He has young children.
The monster's stock has been rising, due to recent appearances in at least two videogames.
"She's going to pet all the woodland creatures. This along with the singing solidifies her as a Disney princess."
-- text message, JB from Wisconsin
The town has since opened a Bigfoot Museum, a more famous cryptid though one with somewhat less connection to the region. One article posted there discusses the local appearance on March 6, 1919 of what seems to be a human being gone feral, but has been retroactively interpreted by some as a sasquatch. This museum proved less impressive and a little credulous, but worth a look, and it serves as a draw to town and the adjacent gift shop, which is well run and stocked. The building also contains a small library, currently in the process of becoming a new exhibit dedicated to the Boggy Creek/Fouke Monster incident, part of Arkansas's ape-monster lore.
Other attempts to build on the paranormal tourist industry include a supposedly haunted Bed and Breakfast, currently closed. What, if any, historical haunted history it might have remains an open question. We wandered over to take a look. Honestly, there were better models for the classic haunted house along that side of town than the brightly-painted official one.
I mentioned in a American Road Trip, September 2024 that two of the lesser items on my wife's bucket list involved petting a skunk and a raccoon. She was able to accomplish the first on the second day of our road trip.
On our way through Sutton, some large dogs left their yard to greet us. The couple to whom they belonged assured us they were friendly, but that was obvious. Also, in their yard, was a raccoon, a rescue. They'd named her Athena. We talked for a while. Athena proved quite friendly.
Check.
"There's a log in front of our driveway!"
(My wife, peeking out our bedroom window around 2am after hearing a disturbance on the street, probably a passing drunk).
"That's not a log. It's a shadow." (Me, after adjusting my eyes)
"No, it's a log."
(We went out just to confirm. An odd shadow cast by the streetlight made it look an awful lot like someone had dumped or rolled a log onto our property. They hadn't).
In the museum we met a woman doing a more extensive cryptid tour. One of her former teachers had written books about the subject, and the topic fascinated her. She seeks out the paranormal and unusual. Not long ago, she entered the ruins of a closed psychiatric hospital. Two red eyes looked back at her, at about human height.
She'd walked away, fearful but satisfied.
The Flatwoods Monster, many have suggested, was probably an owl, perhaps a female defending her nest. West Virginia has six species of owls, all nocturnal, all inclined to avoid people. The Great Horned Owl has a wingspan of up to 153 centimetres or five feet, and females tend to be larger than their male counterparts. Even a common barn owl, perched up and swooping down from a tree, might seem terrifying. Owls make screeching noises when defending their territory, just as the Flatwoods Monster did. Imagine seconds of seeing such a creature swoop towards you in the woods in the dark, on a foggy night (as it was), after you've seen what you believed was a possible alien craft landing nearby. Your only light sources are the flashlight (which the National Guardsman then drops) and three flashing red aircraft beacons, visible at a distance from the location.
Imagination might easily turn shadows and night into a body, below the claws.
The people we met at the very small convention varied in their views. The dealers sold goods and a Paranormal Events agency, services.
We could not stay long. A more famous monster awaited.
Cryptid Trail Video
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