BFRO #2856: Construction worker has startling encounter outside hunting cottage

📍 Location

📝 Description

In may of 1973 I and my father were working for XXXXX XXXXXX Drywall in Boynton Beach, Florida. We had just finished a job and came into the office for a new assignment. Frank told us he had a "special job" and would consider it a favor if we did it. The developer of Boca Teeca had a couple of hunting cottages, in the everglades, and it wouldn't take us more than a couple of days. We would have to camp over since it was too far to drive and there wasn't any lodging around. Now my wife was over 7 months pregnant and I wasn't crazy about doing the job. However, Frank was persausive, "If you want to continue working for me you'll do it!" I didn't have health insurance and was making payments to Bethesda Hospital, in advance, for my wife's upcoming hospital stay. So I caved in and took the job. The next day we packed some camping gear in the station wagon. My idea of camping was a state park or KOA camp. We set off. The directions were simple: take the Florida Turnpike south and go west on Alligator Alley, about halfway across you will see a gravel road to the left. Pass it and take the next gravel road to the left. The work site would be halfway between Alligator Alley and the Tamiami Trail. Looking back I would say this would have put it in Collier County, Florida (the beginning of everglades country). We taveled miles and miles, under the hot sun, on Alligator Alley, for what seemed miles and miles of miles and miles. Coming to the second gravel road we turned left and traveled more miles and miles down a washboard gravel road. I had packed fishing gear and a .22 cal. magnum pistal (with holster) and two .30 cal.M1 carbines. A canal ran parralel to road and I had at least wanted to get my hook wet. I talked him into stopping for 15 mins. or so (to stretch our legs) and I dropped a line in the canal. It was full of alligator gar which were stacked up like cord wood. My father spotted a water moccasin on the other bank and I took my .22 mag, aimed behind the head, shot and took its head clean off. We started up again and after many more miles saw a sign " XXX XXXXX Site." We arrived in the early afternoon. The two cottages turned out to be two houses. Each identical and 2 stories high. The developers had a drive made by dumping a pad of coarse gravel, about 2.5 to 3 feet high, about 300 yeards back into the swamp. At the end, and right, of each drive was a big square of gravel the houses were built on. This was going to be more than a 2 day job. We started taping the houses. While I was working I could hear something rummaging around out in the bush. I couldn't see anything but there was a strong odor similar to the pig farm next to my grandfather's farm (in Ohio). XXXXX XXXXXX had a reputation as being a boar hunter and I assumed it was a boar. We worked till dark and cleaned and packed up our tools. I had Dad start a camp fire on the part of the drive that went past the house (you had to do a 3 point turn in the car port area to turn around). I set up the cots and put on my holster and .22 mag revolver (just in case we encountered a charging boar). Dad brougt a slab of bacon (his idea of camp food). Oh well, he was doing the cooking. It smelled good too. One thing about Dad, he's a master chef when it comes to ruff grub. We ate bacon and beans and home fries and then sat around the fire talking. The whole time I kept hearing the rummaging around in the everglades. The sound seemed to be getting nearer. It occurred to me if it were a wild boar, or anthing as larges as the sounds indicated, the .22 mag probably wouldn't be too effective. I decided to go get one of the carbines. As I stood up and started to go to the wagon I turned and saw two eyes staring from about 20 foot away. First thougt... an owl. But then I realized what I was looking at. I froze in my tracks. Next thought a bear. Only I was staring level in its eyes. I was on a gravel pad about 2.5 to 3 foot higher than it was. I am 5 foot 6 inches. My God... it was 8 to 9 foot tall. My hand went for my gun. I drew it and was going to fire. Only I realized if I shot this thing all I was going to do was really piss it off. Also, it wasn't acting threatening. It was just watching. It had a face more human than a bear or ape. Closer to an Australian aborriginal. I could also see its skin. It didn't have thick fur. It had sparse, long and whispy like strands. The hair was more like an orangutan. Only these were things I put together later. At the time I was just plain scared. As a Viet Nam verteran, with a purple heart, I wasn't overscared either. Let just say I had a strong sense of self preservation. I made a bee line for the house and momentarilly thought about stopping to get the carbine from the wagon. However, my feet took me into the house and up the stairwell. My Dad was hot on my heels. I went to the window which faced the camp fire. As I looked out the window I asked Dad, who was across the room, "Did you see that?" He said, "No." I told him, "th

🔍 Circumstances

The only witness was my Dad and he claims he didn't see it.

🌤️ Weather Conditions

Just after twilight. The weather was hot and the skies were clear. We were in a canopy of small pines.

ℹ️ Additional Details

Just after twilight. The weather was hot and the skies were clear. We were in a canopy of small pines.

🔗 Sources (1)

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