Editor’s Notes: The monsters among us
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It's been the kind of news week in which one story after another featured horrific tragedies and loss, or politicians living out their bizarre desire to drive their states and countries backward. It was the kind of week in which a story about neo-Nazis harassing those attending an event at a private business warranted only a passing glance (which is probably exactly how they want it).
On that story, though, my brain did latch onto a couple of things -- If those men are so certain they are in the right, why go to all the trouble of hiding under hats, sunglasses, masks and uniform pullovers and khaki pants? I have to wonder how many of those same members of NSC-131 (Nationalist Social Club, with the 131 standing for ACA or Anti-Communist Action and Anti-Capitalist Action, according to the Anti-Defamation League) were vehemently opposed to wearing masks to help stop the spread of a deadly virus. I also have to wonder how khaki pants became the uniform of groups such as NSC-131 or the neo-Nazis, white supremacists and other alt-right tiki torch carriers who marched through Charlottesville, Va., back in 2017.
But I'm making too light of genuine evil, and I didn't mean to give them this much ink.
I meant to talk about another story I saw this week. The West Virginia Bigfoot Museum is having its annual festival this weekend in Sutton. Attractions such as the Bigfoot and Flatwoods Monster museums will be open. Another writer used the event as an excuse to look into other West Virginia cryptids -- Mothman, Grafton Monster, Wendigo, Snarly Yow, Goosefoot -- and one I had not heard of.
Am I the last to know about Sheepsquatch?
According to Cryptid Wiki, he is a "woolly-haired cryptid reported across numerous counties in West Virginia, predominantly within the southwestern region of the state … described as being a quadruped about the size of a bear, with entirely white wool-like fur. It has a long and pointed head, similar to a dog but with long, saber-like teeth and a single-point set of horns not dissimilar from those found on a young goat. Its forelimbs end in paw-like hands, similar to those of a raccoon but larger, while its tail is long and hairless like that of an opossum. It is reputed to smell like sulfur, which has been attributed through folklore to the beast being born within the TNT Area in Mason County like one of the Mothman theories …"
Yikes. There's no explaining away that one by saying someone must have encountered a mangy black bear or sandhill crane.
Another website, visitcryptoville.com, says one well-known Sheepsquatch sighting was in 1929, near Fairmont, when Frank Kozul, a miner in Consolidated Coal Company's 93 Mine decided to take a shortcut through the woods to his home.
When he came upon the creature, it "stood two feet at the shoulder, about the size of a large dog, and had an extremely large, powerfully jawed head. It was covered with stark white hair and also had a bushy tail. The creature snarled silently at him, then jumped at him, snapping and biting. Frank swung at it with his lunchbox but failed to hit anything solid. He punched and kicked at it, but hit only air. The strange white creature continued to leap at him, attacking ferociously but silently as he ran down the path. He could feel its weight slam against him over and over, smell the foulness of its breath, but he could not lay hands on it or strike it in any way."
Eventually, Frank is said to have wound up near a graveyard, where the creature vanished and Frank discovered he was unharmed. "He never took that shortcut again despite having to walk twice as far by the other route," the story goes.
Maybe I just needed the brain break. Maybe it's easier to read about monsters such as Sheepsquatch than to think about the real-life monsters in khaki pants. But either way it's fun to learn more about creatures that have become so much a part of West Virginia lore that we are more proud of them than afraid. Better yet might be a road trip to some of the locations I read about in the stories.
Hmmm. Now there's an idea: Hey, Chelsea Ruby, how about a West Virginia Cryptid Trail? Not as catchy as the Waterfall Trail or the Cranberry Corridor, perhaps, but we can work on it.
Christina Myer is executive editor of The Parkersburg News and Sentinel. She can be reached via e-mail at cmyer@newsandsentinel.com