When one of my brothers was about 14 he slept in the same unfinished cabin next to the main house.. The linoleum had just been laid down without any glue so it had rolls in it that squished down when walked on. The porch had not been nailed down. It was made of two by sixes and moved when it was walked on.

One summer night he heard what he thought was one of the rest of the family walking around in the yard. He heard someone making the two by sixes of the porch floor move around as someone walked on them. He had his light on and sat up in bed expecting one of us to open the door which is about seven feet from his bed and walk in. Instead he saw foot prints push down the linoleum as something invisible walked through the door and started walking towards his bed. Whatever it was picked one of his socks up off the floor and very slowly carried it chest high towards him.

Before it reached his bed he had his twenty two pistol out and loaded. He pointed it at the invisible being holding the sock in the air. It dropped the sock at the sight of the gun pointed at it and he watched the foot prints of some invisible being run across the room and out through the wall towards the yard it had came from.

He was as white as this sheet of paper when he came in with his gun in his hand immediately afterwards to tell us. My father, both brothers and I went outdoors to look all over the property and adjoining property for anyone or anything to explain what he had seen. We then went inside the cabin to look where he had seen the sock being carried by an invisible something. We each watched our own and each other’s feet as we took steps to see how the linoleum sank down and raised back up as we moved our feet. We then looked where my brother had seen it run through the wall. We all saw was a solid black ash type substance in the shape of a person on the wall where it had run out. The black form was there for months.

When the same brother was about sixteen he worked in the hop yards at night changing irrigation pipes. The hop yard was built on a Native American burial ground and he constantly saw the Native American spirits walking around while he worked.

Coming home on a very bright moonlit night on his bicycle from the hop yards on Lower River Road next to the Rogue River he almost ran into a Bigfoot walking on the same side of the road as he came over a small hill in the road. He had to swerve to miss it. As he swerved around it he started pedaling as fast as he could in case it decided to chase him.

In the house built next to the unfinished cabin when my dad was home alone one night he had a fight in his bed with a being that looked like a gray. It was trying to pin him down and he was fighting for all he was worth. After a while he refused to talk about it. It was just too scary for him to think about.

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