Cranberry Bog Boys

 

Heads up, MMers! Rumors have it, there's a cranberry bog over in Turner with quite a malevolent history. Now, we couldn't quite find an exact street address for these bogs, but it shouldn't be too hard to find them if you're willing to risk a look. We're not sure we recommend that, and maybe after reading this you won't either.

First, cranberries grow in wetlands called marshes or bogs. A bog is layered gravel, peat, and sand that gathers and collects water. Cranberries grow a lot like strawberries except in a bog instead of soil. These aren't typically deep, maybe three feet. You've probably seen the juice commercials with the guys standing up to their hips in the bog. From a distance it can look like a field of red berries, and you might not even realize until it's too late that it's actually water.

Anatomy of a cranberry bog

Leo Guerin, a longtime resident of Turner actually contacted us about this story. Guerin is 77, a retired machine fabricator who worked forty-two years at Pratt & Whitney. An amateur gardener and somewhat of a local historian, Guerin heard about the cranberry bog boys when he was a teenager. We met him for a few beers at the local Elks Lodge in Auburn, where he shared with us the story.

Leo Guerin, local historian

"When I was eighteen I joined the Elks," he told us. "This was 1962. You could drink at eighteen back then.When I joined there were a lot of veterans, the guys who had fought in World War II, who came in here for drinks after work or on a Sunday afternoon after church. I was too young for the Big One and because I broke my hip in a skiing accident I wasn't eligible for Vietnam, but I loved hearing those stories. They're the ones that got me into history. Local history, see? Because no one ever knew those stories. Some of those guys, those vets, are the ones I heard about the Bog Boys from. Thats' what they called them. Bog Boys."

The creature they called a Bog Boy is a humanoid being, but it appears to be covered in layers of mud and ooze, as if it has just emerged from a muddy swamp or puddle. Bits of sticks and plants cling to them. Their faces are partially concealed by the ooze, but they appear to have eyes of some sort and their mouths continually yawn open as if searching for something. They are slow moving, but relentless. Guerin claims they are easy to outrun if you know where you're going, but its easy get turned around out in the woods around the cranberry bogs.

The cover of Goosebumps #15: You Can't Scare Me. Makes you wonder if
R. L. Stone or artist,Tim Jacobus had heard the legends of the Cranberry Bog Boys.

"The old GIs told me that the first Bog Boy started showing up around 1947 or 48. Around that time a kid went missing. As near as I could determine it was either Tyler or Thomas Martin. I've seen conflicting reports. Anyways, they searched the whole town but there wasn't much they could do. Martin was eighteen, so a lot of people figured he up and moved."

But that's not what the GIs believed and it's not what Leo Guerin believes either. Guerin believes that Martin fell into the wild cranberry bog. Maybe he had been out drinking, maybe he just got turned around and lost, but Guerin believes he somehow fell into the bog and drowned. 

"Think about it, if you were disoriented and fell, the layers of peat and muck that would get kicked up, plus the tangle of cranberry plants, it would be enough to snarl you all up. Maybe hold you under just long enough to drown."

Why the police never found Tyler/Thomas Martin's body in the bog is a mystery, but by 1948 enough people had begun to see this so-called Bog Boy, that there was a brief investigation. The police turned up nothing of course, but some of the locals began to suspect something nefarious had happened. There started to be whispers that the ghost of the Martin boy had returned, mingled with all the muck of the bog. The stories went that he had gotten lost in the bog and was trying to find his way back home, not realizing he'd been dead for over a year. Not much came of the whispers and over time, sightings of the Bog Boy stopped and the story, like many local rumors, dried up.

By 1962, when Leo Guerin was old enough to drink at the Elks Lodge with the WWII veterans, rumblings of the story of the Bog Boy had begun again. That's because that year Ellis Saucier, the seventeen year old son of the local barber, had gone missing. Guerin says he knew Saucier who had been a few years younger than him in school.

Ellis Saucier, left, in 1962, the year of his disappearance

"He wasn't what you'd call an angel or a teacher's pet. I think the polite term is ne'er-do-well. Always getting into some kind of trouble, always looking for trouble, you know?"

The area was searched, including the bogs, but Saucier was never found. There was a rumor he had run off to Boston to join a gang, but there wasn't much evidence of that. In 1962, Bog Boy sightings had started up again, only now the stories claimed there were two of them.

"Every fifteen years, like clockwork," Guerin told us. There were several empty beer glasses on the table between us. "Every fifteen years another kid goes missing from town. The last one was back in 07. You might remember that one? Zachary Clarke? There was all that news coverage? And you know what? Right around that time the stories of the Bog Boys kicked back up again. There were four of them by then. Tyler Martin in '47, Ellis Saucier in '62, then Michael Coulombe in 1977, and Joshua Landry in '92. All of them young, between sixteen and nineteen. All of them missing, no trace ever found."

In 2007 Leo Gurein was 63, preparing for retirement. A lot of the veterans who had told him the story of the Bog Boy back in 1962 and passed away or were living their last few years in assisted living centers, but Guerin said there were still whispers of the Bog Boys. 

"I don't know how the story passed down from each generation. Parents telling their kids, I guess. Warning them about staying out of the woods at night, like a boogeyman, I suppose. But in '07, when the Clarke boy went missing, everyone started talking about Bog Boys again, and sure enough, the sightings increased. This time there was five of them."

The stories claim that if you encounter the Bog Boys to run as fast as you can. They're not terribly fast, but their open arms and yawning mouths are easy to get tangled in, especially now that there's a pack. The stories claim that if they catch you, they'll drag you back to the bog and pull you underneath the waters to lie with them until they rise again.

No one knows what exactly these Bog Boys are. The only pictures are blurry and can be written off as tricks of the light, strange angles, and active imagination. In recent years, and as technology has gotten more advanced, there is still no evidence of any bodies buried in the cranberry bogs. Still, the stories persist. Whether they are an elaborate prank or the actual ghosts of the missing boys, no one is sure. But Guerin is. 

"Oh, it's them, all right. The missing boys. The dead boys. They're angry they died or they don't want to be alone, or whatever, but it's them all right. I've got no doubts about that," he said, draining the last of his beer. We offered to pay for the drinks, but he waved us off. "I'm just happy to have someone to talk to. When my grandson told me about your website thing, I knew I had to reach out to you fellas. There aren't too many of us left that remember how this all started."

We left Leo Guerin soon after. He waved to us from the doorway of the Elks Lodge. As we pulled out of the parking lot, he went back inside and sat back down at the table where he had told us his story. We could see him order another beer.

A cranberry bog

We did some research into this story before writing this. Guerin's timelines does seem to check out. Tyler/Thomas Martin, Ellis Saucier, Michael Coulombe, Joshua Landry, and Zachary Clarke all went missing from the Turner area. No bodies were ever found, and no evidence of them turning up anywhere else has ever been presented. The youngest, Joshua Landry, was sixteen. Michael Coulombe was the oldest, just nineteen years old. To date their cases are unsolved, though every lead has since gone cold.

This does not take into consideration the many other missing peoples that have happened over the years. In the Turner area, just outside Auburn, there have been 46 missing persons since 1947. Their ages range from 6 to 81. Many of them are assumed to have moved for various reasons. The most infamous, was the Britney Redlon case from 1997. Britney was eight when she went missing under suspicious circumstances. Her father, Bradley Redlon was the prime suspect in her disappearance, though he refused to say anything. Many people believed Redlon killed and disposed of his daughter, though no case has ever been brought against him.

Still, the similarities in Guerin's stories are perhaps too much to discount. All five of the missing boy are around the same age. All of them were described as less than popular or well-liked. They were all, for lack of a better term, misfits with penchants for the kind of irritating trouble teenage boys find themselves in. Interestingly enough, they all came from broken homes.

We spoke with several people who have claimed to have encountered the Bog Boys at various times. Their stories are all different, different times of day, different years, different numbers of Bog Boys. The stories are consistent about several things - the appearance of the Bog Boys as moaning, mud-covered creatures with open arms and reaching arms, and the locations of all of these encounters. Everyone one of them has been around the cranberry bogs.

One last note, if the Bog Boys return every fifteen years to seek a new victim, 2022 would be fifteen years from Zachary Clarke's disappearance in 2007. If Leo Guerin is correct, that would mean that sightings of the Bog Boys should begin happening soon, and that any young man between sixteen and nineteen years old from Turner, should stay as far away from the cranberry bogs as possible.

Stay safe out there, Maine!

The Pamola

Broccoli field in Northern Maine

Raul is a fairly accomplished hunter and outdoorsman, he's hunted all over the state of Maine and even taken several trips out west to hunt various game out there. Never in his life has he seen anything like what he saw on a grey Tuesday afternoon last October. Raul was out in the broccoli fields of northern Maine, he had discovered several years ago that it was where moose liked to spend a lot of time, and that was exactly what he was after.

It was getting towards dusk and Raul just wasn’t having much luck, he had seen a small bull but he really wanted to fill his freezer this year. But just as he was about to give up he saw a pair of large tracks leading into a nearby thicket of saplings. He quickly followed them, but as he did an uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach, something wasn’t right about these footprints. The pattern of the footfalls was wrong for a moose, whatever this creature was, it only walked on two legs. Raul laughed to himself and was fairly certain another moose hunter was pranking him, or maybe these fake hoofprints were meant to steer novice hunters away from the prime real estate. Either way Raul felt like he had been duped. 

But luck still seemed to be on his side, he heard something large rusting through the brush nearby and when he looked up he saw the large antlers of a moose weaving in and out of the saplings just up ahead. The antlers were pretty high up and had a great spread, Raul guessed it was big enough to fill a couple freezers, and he began to stalk the beast, until he could get a good broadside shot on it. 

There was a clearing in the thicket as it opened into the path to the broccoli field and Raul hoped that the big bastard would wander its way out there. He kneeled down near the end of the thicket and got ready for when the moose made its exit. What he saw next was unexpected. There was the head, large, black eyed, with a towering set of antlers. But attached to that head was the long gangly torso and legs of a human man. Out of the back of this creature their sprouted two long blackish brown protrusions that hung limp all the way down to its knees. To the top of its antlers the creature was probably close to nine feet tall. 

A tattoo design based on the Pamola

Raul held his breath, lowered his rifle, and waited for the thing to pass. “It was the most uncomfortable thing I have ever seen, it was unnatural, I don’t know how many times I made the sign of the cross after it left” Raul said. “As much as I wanted to forget it, I couldn’t, I remembered its black eyes, I remembered it swaying back and forth as it walked, I remember those dead things sticking out of its back. I still dream about seeing it, and everytime I wake up in a cold sweat.” Raul’s obsession led to him researching sightings of this creature, and slowly he remembered his time in the boy scouts, when he and his troop had climbed Mt. Katahdin. “We climbed up Pamola Peak, and I remember as we stopped for water one of the dad’s told us all about this ancient Abenaki myth about a man with the head of a moose and the wings of an eagle. It was a Pamola, an ancient guardian of the land. I don’t know if what I saw in the woods was it, or some creepy imitation, but I don’t want to see it ever again.”

We did some research and we confirmed the mythology behind this sighting. It is in fact an Abenaki legend, although it is usually tied to the area around Mt. Katahdin, and where Raul sighted the creature was quite a few miles away from there. There is also the fact that the creature Raul saw had no wings, or at the very least its wings had decayed past the point of use. 

Either way, be on the lookout for the Pamola, and stay safe out there Maine!

In the Potato Fields

This story comes to us from a new MMer named Andrea who lives up in Aroostook County. She lives in a small town nestled in a bend of the St. John River. Her family has always been potato farmers, and they plant fields upon fields of them every year. However she was always warned by her grandmother never to go out into the fields during the nights leading up to harvest. Andrea told us that she listened to her grandmother for most of her life and avoided the fields, until her teenage years when she and her friends stayed out just a little too late one night.

As they covered what was left of their bonfire for the night, Andrea parted ways with her friends and began to walk home through the potato rows. The moon was just bright enough for her to avoid tripping if she walked slowly. On her way home she was met with a whistling shriek, she stopped in her tracks as small shadows skittered in and around her legs. She panicked and began to run, more shrieks errupted as she ran. She stumbled and landed face first in a large mound of potatoes that had been freshly dug up. As she scrambled to pick herself up her hand found what felt like a potato but it had a strange leathery outer shell, and was warm to the touch. Upon picking up the object there was a symphony of shrieks and strange chittering sounds. She clutched the odd potato like object to her chest and ran back towards her house.

As she neared her house she turned back and saw several small creatures with large eyes following her. She quickly entered the house and closed the door. The next morning the only evidence of the creatures was the scratches on her front door no higher than her knee and the now cold object she had picked up. It wasn't a potato, nor was it a rock, she has no idea what it is but suspects its an egg of some sort. This was nearly twenty five years ago, but she still keeps the object as a reminder of her strange encounter in the potato fields.

Andrea sent us these photos of the object

If you are ever in norhthern Maine during the potato harvest, make sure you stay out of the fields at night, you never know if these little creatures will be around! Stay safe out there, Maine!

Black Dog of the Woods

Attention Malevolent Mainers, this one is serious. A report has come in from a MMer who goes by Greg, that he just narrowly escaped a malevolent entity. This man was driving on I-95 near a long stretch of thick woods when he noticed a large black dog getting dangerously close to the road. He pulled over and approached the animal which seemed friendly. The dog barked and moved towards the woods, often looking back at the man, as if to get him to follow. The man worried that the dog's owner might be in some danger followed the dog into the woods. The dog led the man deeper and deeper in, constantly looking back at him, his tongue lolling out of his head.

When Greg became worried that they hadn't found the owner after ten minutes he began to turn around and head back towards the road. As the dog noticed him turning to leave it began growling, Greg immediately back toward the highway and the dog chased him. Greg just barely made it back to his truck as the dog began tearing at his pant leg. He escaped narrowly with only slight injuries. As he looked in his rearview mirror he saw the dog's demeanor change once again from vicious to friendly as it went back to the side of the highway to wait once more.

If you see a black dog on the side of the road and you have the urge to help it or look for its owner, please use extreme caution. Before you get too far from your car, turn around and see if the dog reacts, if it does leave immediately, if it doesn't feel free to continue following the dog.

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Photo of a similar dog sighting from the late 1970's

Unanswered Questions - December 2020

 

Welcome back to some more unanswered questions, MMers!

• Who is at the bottom of the old well on the abandoned farm in Chesterville? More importantly, why have they kept screaming "Tenon?" for the past twenty years?

If you hear, "Tenon!" coming from the bottom of a well... run!

• Why will Cobbie, the sea monster living in Cobbosseecontee Lake, only show itself at dusk?

• When is it okay to call the feds about aliens invaders? After the first visit? The second? The third? The Herrins out of Patten are on visit #4!

Fifth time's the charm?

• What lived under the bed in Caleb Clover's room? And why did it move to Lucas Cruz's? Has anyone seen Caleb lately?

• Where exactly is that fountain of youth in the Bethel area? Asking for a friend.

• How do you drive a vampire off your property after you accidentally let him in? Lots of garlic, crosses, holy water, and a blessing or two from the local priest doesn't hurt, according to Norman Reed of Brighton.

No visitors or vampires!

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Houlton Wild Man

MMer Jim and his buddy Carl from Houlton, were out bear hunting in early November last year when they encountered something that wasn’t a bear at all. Jim walked us through what happened, “We are pretty close to this lady who owns a bakery, she lets us take the day old donuts and other pastries for real cheap. We take those out into the woods, find a nice little clearing and spread ‘em out, then all we have to do is wait for the bears to find the pile.” As they sat in their blind, something covered in thick matted black hair stumbled through the underbrush and investigated their bait.  

Woods near Houlton

“Carl raised his rifle right away, he ain’t never got a bear before and was eager. But I waved him off and pushed his barrel down as quietly as I could. This was one scraggly bear, it was real thin and small, and had a funny walk to it. It took me a minute to realize it was some really hairy guy running around on all fours.”

Jim quickly got out of the blind and approached the man who was stuffing his face with the day old pastries. At the noise Jim caused shuffling through the leaves and bushes the wild man quickly turned and faced Jim head on. “As I got closer to him I didn’t know how we ever thought it could be a bear, but he was covered all over with this long black matted hair. His eyes were big, and so brown they were almost black. He growled at me, real low and deep, and bared his teeth which were all chipped and sharp.”  The wild man scurried towards Jim and from the blind there was a shot as Carl tried to protect his friend.  The man ran off into the woods, “There were a few drops of blood on day old pastries” Jim said.  “But we don’t know if we hit him, or if he was already injured. Either way we ain’t going back to that spot again.”  

Wild Men have been a common sighting around
the world for hundreds of years

If you are ever in the woods near Houlton, make sure you watch out for the wild man, from the encounter reported by Jim it seems he can be aggressive or at the very least territorial. Whether this is a small Sasquatch, or simply a mentally ill man it should be avoided, stay safe out there, Maine!

Fear the Fryzlwulf!

Watch your backs, MMers. Our most recent investigation brought us to North Monmouth, right off Route 202, along the shores of Wilson Pond. North Monmouth is a technically an unincorporated village, part of Monmouth proper. There are lot of summer homes around the pond, there's Tammy's One Stop, a gas station-slash-general store (and pizza and sub shop, don't forget), and Ray's Autos, though that looks like it's more of a museum to rust than a working mechanic. There's not much else, except for one heck of a whopper of a tale, going back all the way to 1963.

Wilson Pond, North Monmouth

Unlike a lot of the stories we investigate here at Malevolent Maine, this one seems fairly well documented. It started with a man, Juri Fryzlwulf (pronounced "Frizzle-wolf"), a Polish immigrant who moved to North Monmouth in the early 1960s. Fryzlwulf was a loner by nature, keeping to himself despite the large Polish community in the Monmouth area. 

On a few occasions, Fryzlwulf was seen running through his fields naked. This was usually in the late evening or early hours just before dawn. One witness described him as, "Naked as the day he was born. Well, that's not exactly right. He was wearing some sort of belt. It looked like fur. But he didn't have any pants on. You could see... well, you know. The belt didn't make much sense."

Many people assumed that Fryzlewulf was some sort of naturalist and as long as he wasn't bothering other people, they left him to his own devices. He might be a little eccentric, but he was mostly harmless. All of that changed in the summer of 1963, however. 

Edwin Simonet

Edwin Simonet was out for his early morning walk. He liked to be up before the birds, he said. He would walk the two and a half mile loop around his house, which brought him along Wilson Pond for about a mile. "In the mornings, it was just as beautiful as could be," he said. Simonet was a math teacher at Monmouth Academy, lived alone, and was well known and respected in town. He was forty years old in 1963, and when we sat down to talk to him, he was just as spry and sharp at 98 as the man he was half a lifetime ago. Here's Edwin:

"I remember that day just as clear as this morning. It was June 28th, a Friday. School had gotten out the week before. I have to tell you, even for teachers, summer vacation is like a rebirth of new life. The air is suddenly sweeter, the sky bluer. It's like while you were sleeping someone came and touched up the world. There's a weightlessness about late June and July. A sense that there is no evil in the world and there never could be. That morning was like that, like the world was free and alive and good. How wrong I was."

Simonet was doing his usual loop when he came to a particularly wooded area near the pond. He heard something then that didn't sound right. "It was a voice, a man's voice, but it was high and reedy. It was talking really fast, like he was trying to convince someone of something." That's when he saw something through the trees, a brief flash of skin.

Simonet couldn't take us out to the area. He lives at the Heron Pointe Senior Living Center in Monmouth, and while his mental faculties are still intact, he doesn't move around very well these days. Still, he was able to draw us a map of where it was, and true to it, we were able to find the spot easily enough. It's on the other side of the Plossay Road, across from Wilson Pond. It's pretty heavily wooded during the summer, a good place to hide.

The wooded area off Plossay Road,
where Simonet found Fryzwulf

As Simonet explained it, he saw that there was someone in the woods. He thought maybe someone needed some help and he went in. What he came upon shocked him. Seventeen year old Linda Williams had just finished Simonet's Algebra class that spring, so he knew her well. "She was standing there in her delicates.  Her clothes were in a little pile near by. She was standing there in her undergarments, her hands trying to keep herself modest."

Simonet said that Linda looked scared. Standing across from her was a man. He was naked save for a fur belt he had tied across his hips. 

"It was Fryzlewulf," Simonet told us. "No doubt about that." He tried to plead his innocence, but it was obvious to Simonet what was going on. He chased after Fryzlewulf but the man ran off, afraid to leave Linda alone, Simonet doubled back. 

The police searched for Fyzlewulf and found him barricaded behind the doors to his home. They arrested him and brought him to the jail. Linda Williams was not raped and claimed Fryzlewulf did not physically touch her at all, but her account of what happened was disjointed and made little sense. Here's a piece of he report:

"I... I went down there to swim. I was changing in the woods...it was a new bathing suit. a Two piece. My mom didn't know. That's when I saw him. That... man. Except he wasn't a man. He was... bigger...bulkier. His body didn't move like a man. So much hair. He... He kept saying, 'Please, please. Shhh. It's okay. Please.' And I saw... I saw.. I saw..."

There was very little they could charge Fryzlewulf with. The best they could do was indecent exposure. However, Linda Williams' father, Earl wanted to take matter into his own hands. He rounded up a posse of men and they went to Fryzlewulf's house. They jumped him and dragged him out of his home. Then they set his house on fire. Fryzlewulf went mad as his house went up in flames. One of the men, Brent Kirkwood recalled how Fryzlewulf almost threw them off and ran back into the house. "He kept screaming about his belt. How he needed his belt. How it was the only thing that could control it." Why the local fire department never responded to the house fire is unknown, though many suspect that Fire Marshall Carl Townes was part of the mob that came from the suspected child molestor.

After the house had burned down, the mob dragged Fryzlewulf to the woods where he had been arrested a few days earlier. There, they strung a rope up over a tree limb, looped the other end around Frylewulf's neck, and lynched him.

Things didn't go quite as planned though. Here's a report from Colin Hardy, another one of the men in the mob:

Artist's rendition of what Colin Hardy saw

"Earl was all fired up. We all were. Earl was a good guy. We all had kids. We could only imagine what that creep would have done to our kids if he caught them. Anyways, Earl was screaming and cursing him - Fryzlewulf, I mean - and the guy was just dangling there at the end of the rope. I had never seen a man die before, but Earl was a little older. He had been to Korea. But there he was twitching and jerking at the end of the rope, and the sun was going down. And I swear this is the God's honest truth, just as the sun went down all the way, Fryzlewulf's body started to twist and turn. Not like it had been. Like he was changing."

In the end seven of the fifteen men came forward and admitted their part of in the attack. To a man, every single one of them told the same story. All of these are on record at the Monmouth Police station. Fryzlewulf's body began to change. It lengthened in place. Bones cracked and regrew at different angles, skin split open and thick, coarse hair, fur, grew. HIs face shattered and turned more lupine. The creature at the end of the rope was half man, half wolf.

When the transformation was complete, the wolf-thing, snapped the rope around its neck. It snarled at the men and took a swipe at Earl Williams. slicing him across the belly. He would later be treated at the local hospital where he received twenty-three stitches. The medical records are private of course, but there are plenty examples of photographs showing the four slashes across his stomach. Then the creature that had been Fryzlewulf ran off.

Juri Fryzlwulf was never seen again. With no one to press charges, the men of the mob were not charged with anything. Again, the Police Chief happened to be a friend of Earl Williams. However, as previously stated the seven men who came forward with their stories of what happened, did so after several days. Many of the men said they could not live keeping secret what they saw.

The story of the Fryzlwulf does not end there, however. Over the next six decades the stories of a werewolf in the woods around Wilson Pond are regular occurrences. There have been multiple stories of mutilated deer found in the woods. Dogs and cats have gone missing; they're often found weeks later torn and shredded apart. In the late 80s there was three separate cases of people being attacked by a "tall, wolf-like creature." Game cameras, placed by hunters, have picked up several unexplainable images. The Fryzlwulf is described as standing over seven feet tall, with dark or black fur. It has the head of a wolf and human-like body. It runs on both two legs and four, and each appendage ends with a series of sharp claws.

Actual game cam footage from 2015

If Fryzlwulf is some sort of lycanthrope, he would be almost one hundred years old at this point. Still, the stories of Fryzlwulf roaming the woods have persisted. The beast is considered dangerous and should not be approached. As any long-timer in North Monmouth will tell you, when the moon is full, stay inside, lock your doors, and pray for no midnight visitors.

Stay safe out there, Maine.

Stridda Long Body

Okay MMers, we've got a real tall tale for you, this time from the Newry-Andover-Hanover region of Oxford County. We've got several reports of a giant creature somewhere between the Ellis River Road and the Bear River Road. This area is part of the Mahoosuc Mountain Range, some of the toughest parts of the Appalachian Trail. 

They call the creature Stridda Long Body, and no one is really sure where the name came from. Some stories claim that 'stridda' is a colloquial twist on the word 'stride,' referring to the creature's long legs. Others claim that Stridda is an old Indigenous People word for a tall spirit creature said to stalk the mountain regions. Either way, the name is apt.

The creature is described as being incredibly tall, with long thin limbs. It typically walks on all fours, but can stand and move on just two. Reports have placed it somewhere between twelve and twenty feet tall. Its skin is incredibly pale, nearly snow white. It has glowing bright eyes and a mouth full of jagged teeth.

Stridda Long Body

It's been seen stalking among the trees, crossing the road, even looming over several of the homes around the area. We spoke with Adam Hussey, an avid hiker who claims to have seen Stridda Long Body last fall when he was hiking Bald Mountain.

"I've done a lot of hiking. I try to do at least ten mountains a summer. So I'm coming down Bald Mountain. I got caught in a rain storm that just popped up so I hunkered down for a bit. Two summers I would have pushed through, but I sprained my ankle trying to climb down Mount Chocorua over in Conway, New Hampshire in the rain. Anyways, I'd taken my time, so as I'm coming down the mountain it's starting to get dark. Just dusk, you know? But I decided I really needed to pick up the pace. So I'm coming down the trail, I go around this little bend where there's these big rocks you go between, and bam! That's when I saw it."

What Hussey saw was Stridda Long Body.

"It was sort of creeping through the trees. That's the only way I can describe it. It moved so fluidly for something so tall. I think it was probably sixteen, maybe eighteen feet tall, and those long legs and arms, right? But it almost looked like it was swimming through the air."

The creature sensed Hussey and turned. The hiker was frozen with fear, sure his life was going to end. The creature hissed, "something like a cat crossed with a snake." Then it reared up high, Hussey says, like a gorilla on all fours. 

"It roared. I mean. It didn't sound like a lion or whatever. You know what it sounded like? Like the T-Rex from Jurassic Park. You remember that movie? It was like that - I mean, not exactly, but that's as close as I can get to describing it. I just froze. I didn't move a muscle. I don't even think I breathed. It just kept roaring, like the sound of the world ripping in half."

Finally, the creature stopped and the woods were silent. Nothing moved, not even a bird chirped. Hussey stayed perfectly still. The creature seemed to look at him for a second, to assess whether he was a threat or not, then it moved off, sliding between the trees. Hussey didn't move for another five minutes, until the birds and the squirrels had resumed their normal chatter.

"Then I booked it off that mountain just as fast as I could."

Anne Robbins' best seller!

There have been dozens of sightings of Stridda Long Body over the years. The local convenience store, Manny's Qwick-Shoppe actually sells t-shirts with the creature on them. We talked to the owner of Manny's Qwick-Shoppe, Anne Robbins about the creature.

"They've been telling stories of ole Stridda Long Body since I was a girl at least," she said in between customers. "I'll tell ya though, I spent my entire life up and around these mountains, and I ain't seen him once. Still, the shirts sell pretty good. Every summer I get five or six people stop in specifically looking for him. They have all this hi-tech, fancy gear. They ain't seen nothing. If Stridda's out there, he's too smart for them, you know? Plus another ten or twelve campers and vacationers who just think the shirt's funny. It's a good seller."

What's stalking the forests of Newry? We may never know for sure. Several photographs have been circulating the internet over the past few years, purporting to be of the giant creature. We weren't able to authenticate any of them, but one fan, who sent in a picture taken from their car driving home one night swears by the photo.

One fan's purported proof of Stridda Long Body

"It's completely 100% true," this fan wrote. "I didn't even believe in stuff like this until it jumped out across the road. I used to laugh at those people who told stories about Stridda Long Body. Not anymore. I've seen it and I've got proof."

Be careful on the trails and stay safe out there, Maine.

The Meadow People

Stories of elves, dwarves, gnomes, and faeries have been spread by humans for thousands of years. What about small humanoid creatures fascinates us? This story comes to us from MMer Anna who wants to help her mother Alice share her story about the miniature people she has taken care of for years. 

Starks Maine, located in Somerset County

Alice lives in Stark Maine, a haven for people of a naturalistic mentality, it is a place best known for its steps to legalize marijuana before it was a popular stance. Alice and her husband Charlie built a homestead in the hills near Stark nearly fifty years ago, and their cozy home oversees a large lush meadow.  Alice and Charlie were always very conscientious about their impact on the natural world, they only took what they needed and they tried their best to be self-sufficient. They composted, recycled, reused, and if they cut down a tree they used every part of it, thanks to Charlie’s skill as a woodworker and carver. Charlie passed away around ten years ago and for many years Alice couldn’t bring herself to go into his workshop. 

One time after a heavy rain that flooded the meadow down the hill from their home, Alice heard strange almost musical noises coming from Charlie’s old workshop. She peeked her head in and saw among the cobwebs and old woodworking tools several creatures no more than 7 or 8 inches tall. They had oblong heads, long necks, and a spindly torso and limbs. They were gathered around even smaller figures and seemed to be keeping them warm in the chilly and moist morning air. When Alice pushed the door open to get a better look the hinges squeaked and the creatures scattered to the darkest corners of the workshop. 

Over the next few years Alice gradually built a rapport with the creatures, leaving food scraps in the shed, and leaving small pieces of fabric from her knitting projects in there. Alice is slowly losing the fight of aging, she is finding it hard to move around as much now due to arthritis, and her glaucoma grows worse month by month. She says soon her family is going to make her move from her idyllic Stark home, closer to her daughter so they can take better care of her. But all Alice worries about is the little meadow people who live near her. She doesn’t want to leave until she is sure they will be taken care of. 

Alice asks us to inform everyone we can about the existence of the meadow people and tell them to check sheds, outbuildings, barns, and workshops for them and to try to help them out whenever they can. 

Help save the meadow people, and stay safe out there, Maine!

Rapid Fire - May 2020

 Eyes open, MMers!

This week, we've got a ton of smaller, one-hit stories, we've gathered from our loyal readers. We're coming at you rapid fire! Let's dive right in.

• Tina up near Presque Isle spotted a UFO flying over the Walmart on Route 163. It was a cluster of three lights, moving in erratic motions in the sky. It moved too fast to be a plane or a helicopter, darting first left, then right, then up. She  watched the craft for about five minutes before it suddenly stopped moving completely. It stayed for just a second before flying off. "It moved so fast it practically disappeared," Tina writes.  Definitely fits the mold of a typical Tri-clipper. Any else spot this space craft? Let us know.

What did Tina see?

• Bruce spotted a large, hairy creature in the woods around his camp in Whitneyville. He was out hunting when he heard some strange grunting and growling sounds that he couldn't identify. He followed a trail that led to a stream. There he saw the remains of an animal he identified as a deer. It had been ripped apart, as if by an animal. He spotted the creature he believed had killed the deer. It was "large, bigger than a man, and up on two feet." Sure sounds like Bigfoot to us. Keep your eyes on the woods up in Whitneyville!

• Clara, who only wanted to be identified as living in Franklin Country, sent us the story of the grave of an unknown soldier from the War of 1812. The grave is in a small family plot on Clara's property and every spring she heads out to clear up the little cemetery. For the past five years, she's talked about some sort of stain on the stone that is spreading. No matter what she does, how she scrubs it away, it always comes back a little bigger. Well, this year she was finally able to make out what shape the strange shape was forming. Turns out it's a gentleman's hat. The strange part? Clara tells us that int he early part of the Nineteeth Century, there was a haberdasher (that's a hat maker for you laymen) located on the property where she now lives. Connections? We'd say yes.

  

  How about a close up next time, Clara?

  
  

• We had another sighting of Saco River Sara. That's the fifth one this year. Maybe someone should head up Fryburg and burn some sage. 

• Have you ever heard of a ghost bridge? We hadn't either. That is until Don from Turner sent us this curious story. He claims he was driving along a stretch of Route 4 one foggy evening. Don tells us he's driven that stretch dozens, maybe hundreds of times, but this night was different. All of a sudden, Don felt like he had no clue where he was. "Nothing look familiar," Don writes. "It was like I was in some stretch of road I'd never been to before." Suddenly, Don drove over a bridge - and not just any bridge! He said it was wooden, an old fashioned style, he remember growing up as a kid in the 1950s. Don said he slowed down, suddenly unsure if the bridge was safe for his truck. He soon crossed the bridge, and though quite freaked out, kept driving. Soon the fog parted a little and he recognized the road again. He was home in no time. The next day he went out to check for the bridge, but it was nowhere to be found. He swears he never left Route 4 and in the weeks since, he can't find that stretch of road or that wooden bridge anywhere! Eerie!

  

  Artist's interpretation. NOT the actual bridge!
  
  

As always, MMers, if you encounter something spooky, something unexplainable, something supernatural or otherworldly, send it to us. Who knows, your story might just make the blog?

Stay safe out there, Maine.

The Androscroggin River People

Heads up if you're thinking of traveling to the Androscroggin River this summer, MMers. This is an old story, one you probably know if you've been around the bend a time or two here in Maine, but it's a good one, and one worth repeating for the newer generation. We're talking, of course, about the Androscroggin River People.

This story, believe it or not, dates back all the way to 1754, during the French and Indian Wars. British Corporal Eustis H. Gardner was leading a group of soldiers up the river to engage with French troops when he says they encountered a strange creature swimming alongside their boat. This is an excerpt from Corporal Gardner's journal:

T wast the regular size and rough shapeth of a sir though t wast cov'r'd in blue-green scales.  Its hands and feet w're massive, did shape liketh an oar, tipp'd with raz'r sharp claws.  Its eyes, though beneath the wat'r burn'd crimson.  T did swim 'longside our boat f'r five full minutes bef're t did swim off.  I, n'r any of mine own men, has't nev'r seen aught liketh the beast.

A woodcut inspired by Gardner's journal

Famed New England explorer, Bernard Pollack, claimed he encountered a similar creature in 1789, while mapping out the Androscroggin. He claims that while he and his Native American guide, Moxus, were canoeing the river, a fish-man swam up along side them. It leapt out of the water like a fish, before diving back down, hardly making a splash. Pollack claimed that the fish-man seemed to be leading them down a smaller river that branched off from the Androscroggin. Pollack and Moxus followed the fish-man until he lead them to a small village on the shore of the river, where he counted no less than seven of these fish-people. It should be noted, however, that Pollack was a bit of a braggart, known to exaggerate his own exploits to fill his pockets.

Sightings of the Androscroggin River People continued into the modern era. Randy Kramer, a Boy Scout leader, claimed to have encountered one in 1973 while taking a group of boys on an overnight canoeing trip. This is from an interview Kramer gave in 1980 to Boys Life Magazine:

Could this be what Randy Kramer encountered?

"I got up in the middle of the night and left my tent to relieve myself. I took maybe ten steps out towards the riverbank when I heard something I thought might have been a snake, but could have just been the tall grass moving. I looked up and I saw a pair of red eyes staring back at me. I froze, and realized I was in real danger. I could tell the thing was about to pounce, but then the clouds drifted away from the moon. In the moonlight I could see what it was - it was...and I know how crazy this sounds, it was a fishman. I knew right what it was. We'd even told a campfire ghost story about it that night. It was one of the River People. Quick as an eel, it dove back into the river and swam off. I don't think I slept a lick that night."

No one knows quite what the River People are. They appear to be some sort of fish/man hybrid. Whether there is more than one or how long these creatures can live is unknown. Many people believe there could be generations of these fishy creatures living up and down the Androscroggin River. 

One last interesting note is that the word Androscroggin comes from Abenaki tribe and it translates to "deep-dwelling river." Could this name refer not to the depth of the river itself but the name of the creatures that live in it? Noted author of weird and horror fiction, H. P. Lovecraft is known to have often visited this area of Maine. Is it any coincidence his stories are filled with a race of fish-people known as Deep Ones? 

Did Lovecraft know?

Hmmm.

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Look out for the Lobsterman

We know it's still winter, but here's a story  that will send a chill down your spine during even the warmest summer months. This one comes from Lubec, and while we first heard it from Mary Wilkes, just last week we received another siting from Simon Bagwell. We'll start with Mary Wilkes' tale.

Mary tells us that all of the old-timers of Eastport know not to be on the shore during a full moon. She said she heard it from her grandmother, who said she had heard the story from her own mother. The fishermen and their families know that on nights of a full moon, the best thing to do is stay inside and lock the doors and windows.

There are reports of a shadowy figure, a man or a man-shaped thing. They say it walks along the shoreline and the nearby neighborhoods. The figure wears some sort of tattered brown robe and its hands appear to be mishapen, swollen things, looking more like lobster claws in the dark than hands. Mary says the old-timers will sometimes leave small baskets of fish, crabs, clams, or mussels out for this strange figure.

No one knows who or what this "lobsterman" is, but his regular appearance during the full moons for the past sixty years (at least) is cause for some concern. As of yet, no one has reported any nefarious actions by the so-called werelobster, but at least for the people of Lubec, they're not taking any chances.

Which brings us to Simon Bagwell. Simon says he's "an old duffer" who has lived just outside of Eastport in the little town of South Trescott his entire life. Last September, after the flatlanders had left for the summer, Simon was coming home from a night at a local watering hole. He was driving down the South Lubec Road, where the road winds real close to the shore, when his pickup got a flat tire. A real "popper" as he explained it. He pulled over to the side of the road, but didn't have a spare tire. It was late, and Simon wasn't too far from home, so he figured he'd just walk.

He hadn't gone too far from the truck when he heard something walking down along the shoreline. He thought it might be an animal of some sort, but whenever he stopped, the footsteps down on the sand seemed to stop as well, only to continue when he started up again. He called out, thinking it might be another person, but he got no response. 

Simon kept walking, picking up the pace. Whatever it was down on the shore seemed to match his pace. Simon got to a place where the road started to pull away from the shore. As the ground turned from soft beach sand to harder gravel, Simon claims to have heard a scuttling sound, like a dozen little legs all clicking-and clacking over the ground. Simon started to jog but the thing matched his speed, coming closer and closer to him.

Simon ran as fast as he could, but he knew the creature was gaining on him. There was a salty, briny stench in the air, and suddenly the night seemed much colder than it should in early September. Just as he was sure the thing that followed him was about to reach him, headlights splashed across the road. It was a trucker heading north. 

Simon whirled around quickly and saw a blur diving back into the darkness on the side of the road. It was huge, he said, larger than a man, and dressed in some kind of simple, ragged brown robe. Simon swears the creature had some sort of brownish-red shiny skin that looked, "like armor or a shell." Then it was gone.

"I don't know what it was," Simon said, "but I know it scared the pants off me. I ain't never seen nothin' like that in my entire life."

So if you're in the Lubec area during a full moon, be careful!

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Is this what Simon Bagwell saw?