Tlingit Man Recounts Three Bigfoot Encounters in Alaska Wilderness

A story just surfaced online that has Bigfoot researchers buzzing, and honestly, it's one of those accounts you really need to hear for yourself. A French-language channel recently dropped what appears to be the first installment of a multi-part saga featuring a man named John, a Tlingit native from Alaska, who makes the jaw-dropping claim that he killed not one, not two, but three Sasquatch over the course of his lifetime. And the way this first episode sets the stage? Chilling. The story picks up in the 1960s, when John and two of his friends, William and James, set out on foot for Prince of Wales Island, deep in the heart of the Tongass National Forest. For those unfamiliar, the Tongass is no ordinary stretch of woods. It's the largest national forest in the United States, sprawling across nearly 7 million acres of temperate rainforest, fjords, glaciers, and rugged coastline in southeast Alaska. It's the kind of place where civilization feels like a distant memory, and old stories still breathe through the trees. The three young men were hoping to land jobs in the logging camps to earn enough money to leave their village behind. But when they arrived at the camp, the foreman took one look at them and refused to hire them. He only hired white workers, dismissing the Tlingit men with the kind of prejudice that was far too common in that era. With no money, no way home, and nothing left to their names, the trio had no choice but to push deeper into the forest and set up a makeshift camp in a small clearing near a river, about 500 meters from the beach. What happened next is the kind of encounter that fuels a lifetime of questions. It started with sounds. A deep, rhythmic thud coming from the massive old-growth trees surrounding their camp. Then the noises began moving, shifting from one side of the river to the other. Sometimes it sounded like small yipping, almost squirrel-like. Other times, low guttural growls reminiscent of a black bear. But always, always coming from the canopy above them. Day and night. A few days in, William shot a small black-tailed squirrel and the men hung it from a rope strung between two trees to prepare for dinner after dark. That's when John noticed the carcass swaying gently, even though there was no wind. Before they could react, an enormous arm reached down, ripped the animal free with shocking ease, and vanished back into the darkness. Whatever it was, it moved through the trees like it owned them. The next evening, after a long day of working odd jobs at the local dock to scrape together enough cash for ferry tickets home, the men returned to camp just before nightfall. That's when they saw it. A massive, hairy figure standing over three meters tall, rising slowly to its feet near their camp. It turned its broad torso toward them, locked eyes with the group in what John described as a look of pure contempt, and then launched itself onto a nearby conifer, climbing at a speed that defied logic before disappearing into the canopy. But here's where things get even more unsettling. The creature didn't just visit. It went through their things. John discovered their bag had been emptied, its contents laid out across the ground as if someone had been taking inventory. And two boxes of ammunition had vanished. That night, while the men sat around the fire trying to keep their nerves in check, stones started raining down into the flames. One after another. Whatever was out there knew exactly where they were. This is just the first act, and it ends on a knife's edge. The men have made a decision. If their visitor returns, they're going to shoot. Whether they succeed, and what happens next, is where the story takes its next turn. The Tongass region has long been part of Sasquatch lore among the Tlingit and other indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest. Stories of large, hairy forest beings have been passed down through generations, long before any European settlers ever set foot in Alaska. The Tlingit have their own rich oral traditions describing encounters with these elusive beings, often referred to with a reverence that reflects their deep connection to the land and all its inhabitants. This account, if accurate, adds another layer to an already thick file of witness testimony coming out of the Pacific Northwest. And the detail about the creature going through their belongings and stealing ammunition? That's the kind of behavior that aligns with reports from other regions where Sasquatch have been described as curious, intelligent, and sometimes seemingly aware of human weaponry. The video is worth every minute of your time. The storytelling is immersive, the pacing builds tension beautifully, and the cultural context adds a depth you don't often see in Sasquatch content. Definitely check it out and stay tuned for the next episode, because if John followed through on his promise to defend his camp, things are about to get intense.