Monday, February 6, 2017

Hi! Hi! Hi! (Bigfoot)


In the early 1980’s, Sam Bowie was a Staff Sargent in the United States Army assigned to a long-range reconnaissance company.  During a field exercise deep inside a Florida Swamp, he had a paranormal encounter that changed his life.

This is Audio Stories with J.B. Simien and this is the story of "Hi! Hi! Hi!.”  Please visit www.jbsimien.com to download this and other Audio Stories for later consumption.  Also, please show your support for this show by purchasing a copy of my latest book Paranormal Mystery from Amazon. There are links in the show notes to the book. 

Now the story.

Sam’s Army Ranger Company was conducting a three-day navigation exercise in the swampy terrain on Eglin Airforce base (in the state of Florida). The countryside that they navigated through was very difficult terrain in which to keep one’s correct location (during daylight hours).  Therefore, it was more difficult, for his small team of five men (called a patrol) to navigate the swampy terrain at night. 

On the second night of the exercise, the men were two hours into the third leg of their movement and they were lost. They located a small island just big enough to hold the team above the water level of the swamp.  Climbing on their hands and knees, out of the water in the darkness of the island, they checked the muddy ground for snakes and alligators using the night vision scopes mounted on their assault rifles.  Then they removed their heavy rucksacks and lay down to recover their strength.  Sam pulled out the map and attempted to locate the island on it.  The entire team noticed that a strong smell of urine, feces and decaying flesh inhabited the island. 

Seconds after turning on a flashlight to check out the ground, team members made a gruesome discovery. Discarded partially consumed animal body parts were spread around the small island in various stages of decay.  Some of the parts were fresh and others had long ago been consumed.  There were also numerous piles of fresh feces.  It appeared that the island was the nest of some very large predatory animals.  The team had arrived while the predators were away.
   
Sam was still attempting to locate their position on the map when they all heard something very large splashing through the water towards the island.  All flashlights were turned off upon hearing the sounds of movement.  The men used their night vision scopes to scan the swamp in the direction of the sound.  In the green vision of the scope, they could see what appeared to be two enormous “King Kong like” gorillas approaching the island. 

When the patrol had approached the island, the water level had been up to their chest.  Some of the men were six feet in height.  Looking through the night vision scopes, at the two gorillas, the water level was between their waist and knees.  They were very tall for gorillas (about ten to twelve feet in height).

The soldiers believed that they were observing two escaped zoo animals or pets that had been released into the wild.  People did that all the time in Florida. A few Ranger teams had encountered large anaconda snakes on past exercises.  At that point in time, the only place the men had ever seen gorillas was on TV.  They had no realistic idea of correct gorilla proportions.  However, the closer the pair got to the island the less gorilla-like they appeared to be.  A powerful stench assaulted the men’s nostrils.  It was much stronger than the stench of the island.  While still looking through the night vision scope, someone on the team exclaimed in a whisper, “Fuck, those are Big Foots.”

Instinctively, as quietly as possible and while sill laying on the ground, the team formed a skirmish line facing the perceived threat.  As they had practiced many times, they moved their backpacks between them and the oncoming creatures to create cover and support for their weapons.  The Big Foots were close enough now to be seen without electronic aids.  The team only had blank ammunition for their M-16 assault rifles.  The weapons were worthless if the Big Foots attacked. 

Sam took the pin-flare gun out of his breast pocket and fired off a round to illuminate the area.  When the Big Foots heard the pop of the pen flare they froze half squatting in the murky water.  The flair illuminated the area like daylight for about forty seconds.  The Big Foots watched the flare arc and then descend to the surface of the water.  The sudden illumination had temporally halted their progress toward the island.  It had also temporally destroyed the team’s night vision.  It must have also destroyed the night vision of the creatures because they didn’t move long after the flair had landed.

Not knowing what to expect from the Big Foots and fearing the worst. Sam chose to retreat.  He shouted “Westport” the code word for the team to move to the last designated rally point.  In this case, the team would move due west until they encountered the first dirt road.  Sargent Morales, the assistant team leader, pulled out his compass and took up a heading of 270 degrees magnetic.  He plunged into the swamp water on the other side of the small island.  The team followed him one by one into the water.  Sam, as team leader, brought up the rear.  He needed to ensure that no men or equipment was left behind.

The men moved through cool chest-high water for hours toward the dirt road.  On the movement to the road, several times they halted and just listen.  They could hear the creatures moving behind them and talking to each other.  When the creatures realized that the patrol had stopped moving, they would also stop.  However, then they made sounds like they were calling out to the patrol.  It sounded like one of them was saying Hi! Hi! Hi!  

Sam thought that they would attack at any moment.  The creatures could have easily caught the team if they wanted.  After a while, he was sure that they were just curious.  Upon reaching the dirt road the team set up a defensive perimeter and took out their field knives for protection. They used the radio to call for an extraction.  While they waited the team could still hear the sounds of one of the creature’s shouting to them Hi! Hi! Hi!

Hours later, a helicopter landed on the road to extract them.  As the helicopter circled around in the air to take up its course.  The men could see the two Big Foot creatures through the trees below.  They were looking skyward at the helicopter and using their hands to shield their vision from the sun.  For a few minutes, the helicopter crew and the team circled the area looking at the creatures in disbelief.  Then the big foots moved into a denser part of the swamp and disappeared.

In the operations debrief, the men were separated.  However, each still managed to relate with accuracy the story of their encounter with the Big Foot creatures.  The report was stamped confidential by the commander.  For weeks after the incident, each time someone on the other Ranger Teams made a mistake, they would claim to have been chased by Big Foot.  They turned the whole story into a joke.  No one wanted to talk about it after that.

Three months later, on another field exercise to Eglin, a different team of Rangers encountered the island that Sam’s team had discovered that night.  This time it was during daylight hours.  The team discovered classic Bigfoot footprints all over the muddy island.  They took photographs of the prints.  The photos hung in the company’s offices for years.  The area was closed off from access by the military police and the federal game wardens.  There are rumors that some large bears were captured by the wardens and released elsewhere.  After a few days, the area was open again.
    
Two years later, Sam wrote a fictionalized article for “Boy’s Life Magazine” about his team’s encounter with the Bigfoot creatures.  After much reflection, he had become obsessed with the idea that the Bigfoots were attempting to communicate with the team that night.  He thought that the (Hi! Hi! Hi!) sounds the team heard the Big Foots make was actually English.  Could it be possible they were saying Hi?  Watching the TV show Star Trek had convinced Sam that he had blown a first contact opportunity.  The theme of his article was how fear had destroyed an opportunity to explore and learn.  If given a second chance, he promised himself he would use it to expand human knowledge.

After Sam retired from the Army, he searched for Bigfoot creatures around North America.  He disappeared one weekend in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State.  The Park Rangers located his camp site.  There were Big Foot feet prints all over the ground.  There was also a tripod with a camera mounted on top.  Most of the people who have seen the images believe it’s all staged.  They think that Sam is somewhere having a joke on everyone.  However, the men who were on his old Ranger Team looked at the photos and said, “That son of a bitch made contact!” They suspect Sam will turn up one day to tell us what his life was like living with Big Foot.

That concludes the story of "Hi, Hi, Hi."  I hope you all have enjoyed it.  Please remember to visit www.jbsimien.com to download this and other Audio Stories for later consumption.  Please don't forget to show your support for the show by purchasing a copy of my latest book Paranormal Mystery at Amazon.  The links are in the story notes to the book.  

Thank you.  

Take care. 

See you next Saturday.




Saturday, December 17, 2016

An Artist Who Dreams





The next morning while meeting with my attorney, I told her that I had found the murderer.  She didn’t believe me but she did think it couldn’t hurt for the police to have another suspect.



This is audio stories with J. B. Simien.  This is the story of an “An Artist Who Dreams.”  Please visit me at www.jbsimien.com. There you can download this and other podcasts through a link on the home page and listen to them at your leisure.  You will also find a link below to rate us in iTunes.  If you do that you will help other people find and enjoy this podcast too.



I moved to New York City to become a famous artist when I was nineteen.  Specifically, New York was where I had chosen to make my living as a Painter.  When I was a small child, I made pencil sketches that earned praise from my family and friends.  My parent’s encouragement at that early age convinced me that I had an extraordinary talent.  So, with their financial and emotional help and a great deal of learning, I advanced into the local world of art.  As a teenager, I became a highly skilled artist with a growing reputation in my hometown of Seattle, Washington.  I viewed my move to New York, falsely, as advancing from the minor to the major leagues of the art world.  It was my opportunity to associate with the greatest living artist on this planet and improve my talents.



Thought I was a known artist with a good reputation, I didn’t have the red carpet rolled out for me in New York.  With the help of my network of associates, I was determined to support myself by painting portraits of the city’s elite residents.  The wealthy pay incredible sums of money for a celebrity artist to paint them.   If I could successfully build up clients in this niche, I would be able to pay the bills as I worked on expressing art that challenged my talents and creativity.  Unfortunately, to that desired niche of citizens, I was not enough of a celebrity.



My clients were the niche pretending to be wealthy.  These were the people who would actually prefer to have a photo made but the pretention of their social status required a portrait painted by a known artist.  They are good people but very price conscious and highly demanding.  They want everything but they wanted to pay for it with a discount coupon from Groupon.  They didn’t want an interpretation of their image based upon the artist’s vision.  They wanted a Sears’s photograph.  That was not what I wanted.  So, naturally, the customer hire the artist who would give them what they want.  I fell from an unreliable income for painting portraits to haphazard income from making sketches of any person who would hire me in the farmer’s market pavilion.



Greg Kinkaid was my life saver.  He is a successful celebrity artist who allowed me to live in his art studio in exchange for helping keep the place clean.  He kept me feed and in art supplies.  He let me exhibit my work in his studio in the hopes that some of his wealthy clients would purchase it or commission me for some additional artwork.  I was grateful for Greg’s help.  Still, I was deeply depressed.  I felt lost.  The stress of my failure took a toll.  I would sleep whenever I could to just to help the time pass but in my dreams, I was still unhappy.  



I was sleeping a few days ago when I awoke out of a vivid dream.  In my dream, I was in a crowd of drunken merrymakers on New Year’s evening in Times Square.  We were watching the ball drop and counting down to the New Year.  I had a god’s eye view of the activity and the same time I was in the crowd just like everyone else.  Through my god’s eye view of the activity, I watch a young teenage woman murdered.



She was selling marijuana in the crowd.  Then she moves to the edge of the crowd and was watching the activity from the entry way of a courtyard of one of the buildings.  She was waiting for more customers and enjoying herself.  As she was focused on the descending ball and counting down.  I observed man come up behind her.  She was unaware of his approach.  He lifted her off her feet and carried her deep into a more deserted location within the courtyard.  She screamed for help but her cries were absorbed within the crowd noise.  Once the man was in his chosen spot.  He choked her and crushed her windpipe. He robbed her of her marijuana and her cash.  He dropped her body like discarded piece of trash.



Though it is morbid, I was inspired to sketch the murder as I had envisioned it in my dream.  The angle I chose was to contrast the public celebration against the edge of the crowd murder of a teenage girl from my god’s eye view.  In my dream, I had seen the faces of both the victim and the murderer.  In my sketch, I left both the victim and the murder as faceless people.  I wanted an observer to project their own face onto the subjects.  However, I was exacting in all other detail. From the sketch, I make a painting that looks like a Sears photograph.  It was an excellent theme.



The painting hung in Greg’s studio for less than an hour before the owner of an art gallery purchased it for a thousand dollars.  She prominently displayed the painting in her gallery.

Two days ago, I was visited by police detectives.  They made an inquiry about the subject in the painting in relationship to an ongoing murder investigation.  To my surprise, the location of their murder inquiry was the same as in my sketch and painting.  The details of the murder location and my painting were exactly the same.  It was as though my painting was a photo of the murder scene.  

At the location of the murder, the police and the prosecutor questioned me.  I told them everything I had seen in my dream.  In my complete foolishness, I didn’t realize that they thought that I had committed the murder.  They believe that my painting was a confession and I had just incriminated myself.  Based upon my help, I was charged with the murder.

The judge was convinced that I was a flight risk.  So, I was held without bond.   Thanks to Greg, I had a private attorney instead of a distracted public defender.  The woman who had been murdered was the daughter of a well-connected family.  The state wanted this case solved and resolved quickly.  I was the only suspect in the murder.  I was in very serious trouble.  My attorney advised me to cut a deal.  She wanted my answer in the morning.



That night I had another vivid dream.  I was still in jail but I was out of my cell walking the corridors.  As I wandered the corridors, I looked into the cells that I passed and observed the inmates in their activity.  In section K west, I spotted the murder of the teenage girl in one of the cell.  I recognized him immediately.  I awoke from the dream and make a new sketch of the murder scene.  This time I include the faces of the murder and the victim.



The next morning while meeting with my attorney, I told her that I had found the murderer.  She didn’t believe me but she did think it couldn’t hurt for the police to have another suspect.  She took the sketch and spoke with the prosecutor.  The detectives on the case had wondered why there was no surveillance video of me in the sounding area on the night of the murder.  They recognized the murder in the sketch. He was a well know stick up man.  They had lots of video surveillance of him in the area on that night.  However, there were no video cameras in the area where the murder had occurred.



The detectives arranged to question the new suspect.  They laid a copy of the sketch on the table between themselves and him.   They set silent and stared at him, smiled and bluffed.  One of them said, “That’s murder one.”  The new suspect looked at the sketch and said to the detectives, “So, you know!”  The detectives replied, “Yes, we have a witness.  This is your chance to avoid murder one.”  The murder then confessed to the crime.  He cut a deal with the prosecutor for a charge of manslaughter.



After the charges against me were dropped, I was released from jail.   Still, something that the detectives remarked upset me.  When I made my sketch of the murder scene, it was a day before New Year’s Eve.  The murder victim was still alive.  It seems I had dreamed of a future event.  She could have been saved.



 The years have passed.  I continue to have vivid dreams of murder scenes.  I am compelled to make paintings of my dreams.  Those paintings have made me a multi-millionaire.  Yet, I know that with each dream the victim is still alive and can be saved.  I have confirmed later that all my painting depict actual murders that happen in the city.  I feel I’m supposed to help but do I dare risk it?



That concludes, “An Artist Who Dreams.”  I hope you have enjoyed this story.  Please check the links below to hear other original Audio Stories and please visit me at www.jbsimien.com.  Thank you and take care.

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Black Eyed Jordon


Hello Listeners, 
I just posted a story called Black Eyed Jordon.  I hope you all will enjoy it.  There was no plan behind it (other than trying to create an entertaining story).  Please give me some feedback at info@jbsimien.org.

Thank you,

J.B. Simien

Friday, November 25, 2016

12 Psychic Predictions for the Trump Administration in 2017


Hello Listeners,
I just posted a opinion story of about the Trump Administration in 2017.  I wanted to highlight some concerns I have about the direction the country may take under Trump's leadership.  The post is an example of the many things we should fight against (if my bullshit psychic predictions come true).  It can be found on the stories page.  I hope you will enjoy it.  Please let me know what you think.

J. B. Simien

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Lytton Cottage - No Home for Children - Episode 0026

 



Hello Audio Stories Listeners.  

Yesterday, I posted the story of  "Lytton Cottage - No Home for Children" -  Episode 0026.  This a fictional back story about the paranormal nature of a particular dwelling.  I want to write a series of stories about the same haunted house.  I want readers and listeners to experience the incidents that turned the dwelling into a haunted structure.  This story is the first experiment. It is an overview.  I truly appreciate any insight you all care to share to about this story idea or other story ideas.  Please post your comment below so everyone can contribute.  It's the wisdom of the crowd in action.  If you would like to make a private comment, please email me at info@jbsimien.org.  In the subject line please reference Audio Stories.

Take care, 

J B Simien  

I