Camper: "I first aimed the gun at the Bigfoot and it did not move"

It was a clear spring day. We were at a campground where my parents camped in a secluded part of our county. It was a Wednesday, so most adults were at work. We pitched horseshoes and messed around while the dogs that hung around the campground all played. I had a .22 rifle of my brothers with some shells. My friend and I went down to river as it was traveling at a slow pace and I through in a pop can. We took target practice at the can. I had one shot left and the can was pretty far down the river when I noticed how quiet it was. I put the gun on safety and ask my friend when is the last time you ever heard complete silence in the woods. No birds, no nothing. The first noise we heard came from across the river. It kept getting louder and I told my friend that I was going to get the .22 shells that were on the picnic table up the bank by the horseshoe pit. I was halfway to the picnic table and I heard this loud noise and my friend hightailing it up the hill saying "There it is!" I froze in my tracks and my friend stood right behind me. There stood this Bigfoot with one foot in the water and one on the bank. It had rusty reddish-brown hair which hung down over its eyes like a sheep dog. We stood frozen and so did it for around five minutes. I told my friend to take a good look because for the rest of our lives people are going to laugh at us for what we are now witnessing. I had one shot still in the chamber. I took the safety off and told my friend to run to the car when I fire the gun. I first aimed the gun at the Bigfoot and it did not move. I debated for awhile then decided that this creature was not trying to hurt me so I shot up in the air. We ran to the car and drove straight home. I told my mom and she did not believe me at first. I, still to this day, want to take a lie detector so bad to prove to them and everyone that I did, in fact, have a loaded gun aimed at a Bigfoot and decided not to shoot. I still don't own a gun and I am fifty and I definitely do not hunt. The following Sunday was the Fathers' Day and my brother-in-law, who was nineteen went across the river in a rowboat to check things out. There were footprints everywhere. Only "four" toes. I wear a size thirteen shoe and I could put my foot in these prints with a couple of inches longer and wider to spare. My brother-in-law at the time, found a clump of hair that matched the description of what I saw stuck in the bark of a tree a couple of hundred yards into the woods by the cornfield. A tree had fell down and was stuck in an angle into another tree and it was about 7 foot up on the tree that was leaning. He put it in a plastic ziploc and to this day, I don't know what he ever did with that sample. I told this to an Amish man who does not live far from where this happerned in the mid-90's and he told me that one of the men in his congregation had also spotted this creature along the river around that same time. I am an honest, sensible man. I know what I saw and nothing will ever change my mind. via (Link: bfro.net)