MORE TRACES OF THE GRASSMAN
Seven feet tall - at least 300 pounds ! The Grassman has been seen and heard and "felt" for nearly 30 years in and around this Akron, Ohio suburb. A wooded area of at least a few square miles is bordered by the Ohio Canal to the east and a junk yard on the west. Dale and Tim had discussed their latest encounter back in 1988. In 1993 a radio call-in show was featuring a bigfoot expert who was asking for local reports. The lines were swamped. Not every one got to talk to the expert, only a few. But every one that called in was sent a report form. These reports ended up in California, at the Bigfoot Reporting Center. And there they sat until 1995.
The Ohio Bigfoot Research and Study Group emerged from the interest that two UFO researchers have in the phenomena. George Clappison and Joedy Cook, both members of the Associates for Scientific Knowledge or ASK, established the group in order to better understand this fascinating phenomena. As contacts were made and the organization grew, it became apparent that something was going on in Ohio. Encounters with a large, hair-covered primate has been reported ever since the pioneersÆ wagons rolled through Ohio back in the 1700's. The tales came mostly from Indian legend until the late 1800's when the first news paper articles were written describing an incredible animal that no one had captured, killed, or found. So far, the only good shots at the creature have been with a camera, although, many face to face encounters with sasquatch have left citizens with an intense desire to buy big guns and lots of ammo.
In February of 1995, Ohio Bigfoot Research and Study Group investigators interviewed Dale and Tim and accompanied them to the scene of their many encounters. Dale grew up just down the street from the area. Like most boys, fishing and camping and playing in the woods were at the top of his list as his favorite pastime. Bigfoot had not become popular, at least not around Ohio back then. And to find a large human looking print on the muddy banks of the Ohio Canal had to be a fluke. Just the weird shape of a track made by the other animals that inhabit the woodlands of Ohio. The loud crashing noises in the middle of the night must be a deer, or maybe just a childhood prank by friends. The banshee-like screams must be house cats in heat à mustn't they ? Or were they ? The intense fear that enveloped the group of boys from time to time, was just the normal edginess that overcomes all groups of boys that hang around in the woods at night. Must be that darn Grassman again. They all chuckled, then went home! The fish will be there tomorrow.
Most of the area was a swamp. The rest was pretty heavily wooded. But there were some nice trails and even a small foot bridge going over to the island where the canal splits. The fishing was best on the far side of the island. So when two of the group of boys decided to fish all night, they headed for the best fishing hole, the far side of the island. They never made it to the island. The bridge was as far as they got. Standing on the island side of the small bridge, they were facing each other, deciding the best route and wondering if they brought enough bait. The moon was high and the air was cool. Slowly, a large hand appeared from the darkness. It was a dark hand, very big. It gently came to rest on the shoulder of the young man that was carrying the poles. Before he felt or even saw anything, the other boy was running like a scalded dog. He had seen it coming before his companion new what was happening. He decided that he did not want to know what was connected to the rest of the hand. The poles, tackle, and bait were on the bridge the next morning. I guess sasquatch doesn't need a pole to fish. The group of boys stayed away from the island. They could fish near the road, or maybe not at all.
The far side of the bridge has been checked. At the point where the boys were standing, the ground is roughly 8 feet below the walkway of the bridge. Whatever was standing there and reached up, was a mighty tall something. A six foot tall man could not reach the hand rail much less, the shoulder of a boy standing on the bridge. We trudged through the area for about four hours that day. The swamp is now being filled in with construction debris. Large chunks of pavement and old gasoline tanks with the ends cut off, along with piles of bricks and lumber were everywhere. Some of the debris formed small caves - not that small though. A few were big enough to crawl into. These caverns were the focus of the 1988 report.
Dale is now in his forties and his son, Tim, in his twenties and now frequents the area. He also has "felt like some one is watching", has heard crashing in the woods, and was even paced one time as he and his buddies were making a quick departure from the area. Tim decided to take a look into one of these darkened passages. The dirt at the entrance was worn smooth as if a lot of something had passed by many times. The sun was setting and the shadows were growing long. Before he got his head into the darkness, a large rock landed next to his knee. He stood up, looked around, nothing. No sound, no people..... only silence. Maybe dad would come back with him to check this hole out. By the time Dale and Tim returned it was night, but they knew the area and it wasn't too far from the road and Dale's childhood home. They only brought cigarette lighters so they new they were only going to see what the entrance was like. Before they even had the chance, a stone thudded at their feet. Another then another.
These weren't small rocks that a human could throw like a baseball. They were more like softballs or maybe even bigger. The really weird part was that the rocks didn't roll when they hit the ground. Like they were dropped from above. Something was arcing these projectiles high in the air. But no one could be seen anywhere around them. The nearest woods had to be at least 100 yards away. They made a hasty retreat. Backing away from the debris and heading toward the relative safety of lighted houses in the distance, the warning was well taken. The stones were still thudding at their feet even at the edge of yard they were cutting through. Dale and Tim learned a valuable lesson that night, and gained some respect for that elusive Grassman.
It was a particularly warm day for February, about 50 degrees, sunny with a slight haze. The ground was still frozen except for where the sun had thawed the top layer. Spotty snow was evident in the shadows of trees and the north side of hills. The Ohio Canal was still frozen. We looked around the debris field, but additional dumping and a bulldozer had covered or destroyed the caves. Deeper into the woods, a field opened up with waist high weeds stretching for quite a ways. Behind the field there was another area of trees that ran up to the canal. Heading through the field we came upon a pile of sticks and weeds, or so we thought. A closer examination revealed some unusual characteristics. It wasn't actually a pile. There was a layer of sticks, about 10 feet long and 3 feet wide. They were roughly one to two inches in diameter, all stacked neatly to form a foundation of some sort. On top of that were piled large amounts of dried grass and weeds. The whole thing was in the middle of a field, at least 75 yards from the nearest tree. This structure had to have been built. By whom or what is not known. Sasquatch is suspected.
As we proceeded toward the wooded area, strange markings in the snow patches could have been melted-out footprints. What made these prints interesting is that not just one, but a line of several was found in a few different places throughout the area. Reaching the far woods, near the canal, we walked along an old muddy road used by dirt bikers and fishermen. An area of broken weeds drew our attention. It was under an electrical tower. Upon further investigation, a domed structure was found and not too far away, some sort of a print. Three toes were evident; we poured a cast. As it turns out, it looked more like a hand print, a fourth digit showed on the cast that resembled a thumb. The dome consisted of a bent-over bush with all sorts of vines and weeds woven throughout. It sort of looked like an igloo. If it had been snow covered, the elements would be kept out. A primatologist from California stated that the only animal known to construct such a shelter is the lowland gorilla from Africa.
Other strange things were found. A row of bushes about 2-3 feet high caught our eye. There was one bush missing, only a 2 foot hole remained. No dirt. No bush. Only the ominous hole. Smooth sumac grows in abundance and a large area of these were near the domed structure. About half of these plants were missing the 6-8 inches of berries that sit atop these 10 foot tall plants. Examination of the sumac without berries showed not a clean break, but a skinned area about an inch long where the outer skin of the plant was missing. We thought of the Grassman pulling the stalk through his teeth to eat the berries. Who knows? Keeping in mind that the ground was so frozen that we could not dig out the cast, we found holes dug 12 to 18 inches deep, and an area where a large amount of dirt had been spread out in a 1-2 inch layer. The unusual part is that there was snow under the dirt. Pictures and video tape of the evidence document the find. The cast measures 12 inches long and 5 inches wide. Tim and Dale donÆt go there anymore. But plenty of fishermen and bikers will have a story to tell à maybe.
It's now six months later, and we returned to the location. Samples were taken inside the dome. They are being analyzed for biological enzymes. In the middle of summer the area looks like a jungle. Heat sensors detected a large heat source that evaded our team of field investigators. Bushes and trees moved in the distance but by the time we arrived at that location, only disturbed vegetation remained. Many dead trees are propped up onto other live trees. These dead trees are big, maybe 20-30 feet long and 8-10 inches diameter. How does so many dead trees become propped up against live ones? Territorial markers? Kids playing? A hoax? Evidence or proof? You decide!
©1995 George Clappison
