Science That Defy Science – Part Two
In January 1976, Graham Conway took his three children, together with three of their friends, on a short holiday to a Youth Hostel in a valley near Chilliwack, in southern British Columbia, Canada.
Their purpose was to do some cross-country skiing away from the regular trails. On the evening of their arrival in the valley it snowed heavily, depositing some fifteen centimetres (seven inches) of powder snow.
The next morning Conway left the teenagers at the Hostel and set off down an old logging road for Chilliwack Lake, about 2.5 kilometres (1.2 miles) away. As he skied through the snow the temperature rose, melting the powder snow and impeding his progress.
Finally, he reached the lake and rested for a while, enjoying the crystal air and the spectacular scenery. Then, looking at his watch, he realized that he would not be back at the Hostel at his pre-arranged time. He decided therefore that he would make faster time on the return journey if he carried his skis and walked back through the snow.
He returned along the same logging road that he had taken to the lake. Coming down a short, steep hill from the lake, he rounded a bend and had an uninterrupted view some 400 metres (440 yards) down the road ahead. Approaching him in the distance were two figures who appeared to be skiing.
He looked attentively at them and concluded that they were his eldest daughter and her friend. He assumed that she had become concerned over his non-arrival and had set out in search of him, together with her friend. The two figures appeared to be engrossed in conversation.
A short distance later the road dipped slightly, and the girls were lost from view. Coming to the top of the dip, Graham was in time to see the two teenagers cross over from one side of the snow-covered road to the other. Although the couple was now closer, he still could not identify them positively.
After a few moments he decided that they were in fact his youngest son and his friend. He now saw that they were not skiing but were walking through the snow as he was. They still appeared to be engaged in a deep conversation.
Before they had come close enough to enable him to recognize them clearly, the two figures left the road, crossed a shallow ditch, and entered the young forest that bordered the road. At that point Graham assumed that they had left to answer a call of nature.
Continuing his steady walk along the now empty road, he was concerned when they did not emerge from the trees. He was also surprised since he knew how difficult it was to walk though the bush in summer, and that it would be worse in the winter when snow covered the branches, rocks and holes that lay buried beneath.
In the deep snow walking would be a formidable and rapidly exhausting task. Graham mentally marked the position where the two figures had left the road and focused on it as he approached the spot. But when he reached the place where he had last seen the two figures, he was dumbfounded to find that in place of the footprints he expected to see, there was only the unbroken surface of the snow.
Thinking that he might have misjudged the area where they had left the road, he searched the entire stretch. Not a single footprint or trail was visible to mark the passage of the two young people. Apart from the imprints of his tracks, the pristine snow lay as it had fallen on the night before.
Conway returned to the Hostel in a daze and found the teenagers all present. None of them had left earlier in search of him. Later that afternoon he returned to the scene but could find no evidence that two strangers had walked along that road and left it to enter the adjoining forest. They seemed simply to have vanished into the crisp Canadian air. 4
In October 1974, Bill and Jesse Fonda were driving down Interstate 40 approaching Asheville, North Carolina, when they spotted a red-haired young man standing at the side of the road. They stopped to pick him up.
The man introduced himself as Clayton and said that his truck had broken down at a nearby motel. He said he was working on a construction job in the town. He also spoke of his family back in Tennessee and said how much he missed them.
Bill and Jesse felt sorry for the young man as they dropped him off at his motel. Standing outside was a blue, 1959 pick-up truck looking very much the worse for wear. Bill helped Clayton repair the truck – a task which took well into that Saturday night.
Clayton was delighted. As he wiped his hands, he announced that he would have to hurry to get back home, as he had to be back by Monday. Bill and Jesse stood waving as the old truck moved off, sputtering and backfiring.
The manager of the motel came up and joined them. He looked thoughtfully down the highway, and then turned to them and said: “He comes here every year, same week, same day. His truck breaks down. He fixes it and then I see him again next year. He’s such a sad fellow.”
Bill and Jesse happened to live in an apartment a short distance from the motel. When they finally got to bed that night, Jesse was restless and could not sleep. She got up and looked out of the French doors in the living room. The moon was full and as she glanced outside, she caught sight of a blue truck.
She went outside to investigate. There was Clayton. The hood of his truck was up, and he was labouring over it.” Hi, Clayton,” Jesse whispered, “what are you doing back? How did you know we lived here?” Clayton didn’t answer but continued to labour over the engine.
Finally, he stopped, looked at Jesse and said pleadingly, “Please help me get home. I miss my wife and baby. I’ve got to get home.” His eyes filled with tears. Jesse ran back into the apartment to wake her husband. Clayton followed close behind. Bill woke up, irritated, and looked outside. There was no sign of Clayton or his truck.
The Fonda’s forgot about this incident. About a month later, they happened to be driving in the country looking for a house with some land which they could purchase. Suddenly Jesse saw a familiar-looking blue truck in a field.
They stopped the car and walked into the field to investigate. “Wow!” Bill exclaimed, “whoever was in that really got it. Look at those bloodstains. Let’s go ask someone what happened.” They made their way to a nearby farmhouse and an elderly man answered the door. When they enquired about the truck the old man shook his head sadly.
“You must be mistaken about the bloodstains” he told them. “Although the incident is still fresh in my mind, that truck has been there for ten years. It happened the week of the full moon in October. I remember that because it was so light outside. I was shaken from my sleep by a terrible crashing noise about 2.00 o’clock.
I ran out into my field and that blue truck had been knocked out there from the highway by a semi-trailer. The truck driver was okay. He admitted he’d fallen asleep at the wheel. It took us two hours to get the boy out and he cried pitifully the whole two hours, begging us to get him home to his wife and baby.
I remember his red hair and blue eyes. The ambulance came – they had to call from the road because I didn’t have a phone – but the boy died before they got him to hospital. It’s a sad thing, such a strong young man had to die. We never found his wife. He had no identification, not even a tag on his truck. Nobody ever claimed him.” 5
It was an early summer evening in 1979 when Lucille Ruda walked down the beach to the pier about half-a-mile (800 metres) from her new residence in Pacifica, California. The waves lapped gently on the sand and the air was fragrant with salt.
From the pier she watched the distant rocky coves and felt a sense of refuge from the strains of life. She thanked God for leading her to such a tranquil spot. As twilight darkened into night, and the pier light came on, Lucille slowly made her way back.
She ambled down the sidewalk along Beach Boulevard. There was no one else in sight. The two houses at the end of the road were shrouded in darkness. A van was parked some distance away. As she moved towards it, she was startled to see four men carrying beer cans emerge from the far side of the van.
They were young, burly and bearded. She heard one of them say, “Let’s get her,” as they fanned out towards her. Lucille was faced with an open field to her left and a sandy bluff on her right which offered no protection. As the men advanced, she prayed silently for help.
Suddenly she felt something press against her right leg. She looked down and saw a huge white German Shepherd at her side. The men stopped, then retreated. One of them cried, “Jesus! look at that”. Then they all scrambled back into the van.
Lucille felt the warm fur of the animal and admired the dog’s noble head. Its white body glowed in the dark. The dog followed her to her door, licked her hand and then loped off into the darkness. She watched it go until it was lost from sight. Lucille had never seen this dog before, nor did she ever see it again. 6
In August 1982, farmhands David Buckley and John Fuller were about to check on the cows at Valley Farms in Connecticut. It was shortly before midnight. As they made their way through the darkness, they were startled to see a strange creature.
“We almost had a heart attack,” said Buckley. “We were about two feet away from it”. Buckley described the creature as about six-foot-tall, weighing about 300 pounds, with immense muscles. It had long, dark brown hair over its entire body and arms that hung down to its knees. It had ominous dark eyes and a set of dangerous looking teeth. Its nose resembled a human’s rather than a monkey’s snout.
“We walked around the back and we saw it on a feed bunk, sitting right on the edge of it, like a person,” said Buckley. “It was watching the cows and it had its hand in the silage and was either playing in it or eating it.”
The creature turned and got up quickly, saw the two farmhands, and walked slowly towards John Fuller, who screamed in terror. It then veered toward Buckley, with its arms outstretched. Buckley later recalled, “We had the impression he wanted to have us for dinner!”
The creature then turned, ran slowly around the corner of the feeding bins, and then simply “vanished into nowhere.” The two men, who were understandably shaken, ran the other way and immediately called the police. Equally understandably, the State Police at Troop C Barracks in Stafford thought the two men were “stoned”.
After Buckley and Fuller were able to persuade them of the genuineness of their encounter, several troopers searched the area. Nothing was found. Buckley told the police: “I’ve never seen a human with a build like that. Not even the muscle builders. ” 7
In 1963, Elizabeth Howard (pseudonym), who was then about six years old, was out driving with her parents along the Upper Levels highway in the Lynn Valley region of Vancouver’s north shore. It was a day in late spring, and although it was around half-past-five in the afternoon, it was still clear and sunny.
Elizabeth was sitting in the rear section of the family station wagon. On their journey home after visiting her grandparents, they stopped at a Drive-In for hamburgers and milkshakes. Then, having collected their refreshments, they continued driving along the Upper Levels highway.
Elizabeth was in the back seat drinking her milkshake and looking to her left out of the window towards the north shore mountains. As they were passing a bank covered in shrubs, she was astonished to see three little elves climbing up the bank.
She continued to watch them until they passed beyond her field of vision. The elves looked just as if they had stepped out of a Disney movie. They were about two-and-a-half feet in height and were all dressed alike.
Each little elf was wearing a red vest, green and white striped leggings, three-quarter length trousers, brown shoes with up-turned points and a red toque with tassels on the end. They were all carrying picks over their shoulders as they clambered up the bank.
Elizabeth could not believe her eyes and was too shocked to mention what she had seen to other members of her family. She insists, however, that what she saw was real, and that she was not taking any medication at the time. 8
References
4 Graham Conway, personal communication.
5 Jesse Fonda, “I met the real phantom hitchhiker”, Fate magazine, January, 1977, pp. 55-57.
6 Lucille Ruda, “At my time of need”, Fate magazine, October, 1985, p. 50.
7 Janet and Colin Bord, “The Evidence for Bigfoot and Other Man-Beasts”, Aquarian Press, Wellingborough, 1984. pp. 14-16.
8 Elizabeth Howard, (pseudonym), personal communication.
