Alabama Man Recalls Terrifying Childhood Bigfoot Encounters on Family Farm

A Childhood Encounter That Will Send Shivers Down Your Spine There's something about hearing a firsthand account from someone who experienced these encounters as a child that hits differently. The details are sharper, the emotions rawer, and the memories somehow more vivid because they were seared into a young mind during moments of pure terror. A recent video surfaced featuring Tim "Coonbo" Baker sharing exactly that kind of story, and it's one of the most gripping childhood Bigfoot encounters to come across in a while. Tim grew up on a farm in northwest Alabama, near the town of Muscle Shoals, where his family had lived for generations. For them, these creatures weren't some exotic mystery. They were just part of the landscape, referred to casually as "boogers," "hanks," "no heads," "goat men," or "hairy men." The term "Bigfoot" wasn't even coined until 1958, and the Yeti was still unknown in rural Alabama at that time. His grandmother, great-grandmother, and the rest of the family talked about them as casually as they would rabbits or squirrels. His first encounter happened when he was just three years old. Playing outside with the neighbor kids one evening, a horrifying scream erupted from down the lane north of the house. The adults immediately gathered all the children inside. That night, lying in bed with the windows open and an attic fan running, Tim heard the screaming getting closer and closer, roughly every 15 to 20 minutes. The Hudson family, who lived nearby, owned seven tough hounds, a mix of Plot Hounds and Catahoulas, dogs known for being fearless and rough. All seven came barreling off the porch to confront whatever was making that noise. What followed was pure chaos. The dogs laid into the creature, and the growling and roaring was audible from inside the house. Then things took a dark turn. The dogs started screaming, some came running back to the house injured, and others simply went silent. Tim's grandfather emptied his .30-30 rifle, and his dad came flying out of the house with a shotgun loaded with buckshot. By morning, the Hudson family had packed up and left in the middle of the night, never to return. Six of the seven dogs were killed, torn apart and scattered across the property. Only one survived after a trip to the vet. Before his grandfather passed away, he took Tim out to a large oak tree on a ridge east of the house and warned him never to come back there. Those "catamounts," as he called them, would sit up in that tree and watch the family, jumping down and running down the hollow whenever anyone approached. A warning that clearly came from generations of hard-earned knowledge. About a year later, when Tim was four, he had an even closer encounter. Lying in bed next to the window, he heard footsteps crunching on the gravel strip his family had placed around the house to prevent red clay from splattering the walls. He leaned out the window, looked one way, then the other, and there it was. A creature roughly seven feet tall, with its back pressed against the wall of the house, palms flat against the siding. It had reddish hair that, in the moonlight, looked like blood, and its eyes were glowing yellow. When Tim looked at it, the creature bared its teeth, and to this day he still doesn't know whether it was attempting a smile or threatening him. He bolted from the bed screaming for his parents. His dad came out of the bedroom in nothing but boxer shorts, grabbed the 12-gauge shotgun, and went outside. He didn't see anything but heard something running off. That night, Tim's dad pulled his bed away from the window, laid down next to him with the shotgun within reach, and that's how they slept. This is the kind of account that reminds us these encounters aren't just campfire stories. For families in rural areas, especially in the Southeast, these were part of daily life for generations. The terminology varied by region, but the experiences were consistent. Creatures that were territorial, aggressive when threatened, and capable of taking down multiple large dogs in a single confrontation. The full video is well worth the watch. Tim Baker's storytelling brings these childhood memories to life in a way that makes you feel like you're right there on that Alabama farm, listening to that scream in the dark.