Retired Detective Finds Bigfoot Film Linked to Missing Persons

A retired detective with 31 years on the job, a dusty 8mm film reel found at an estate sale for twelve bucks, and footage that allegedly shows one of our kind walking upright through the Cabinet Mountains wearing a flannel shirt. If that doesn't make you click play, I don't know what will. The video in question comes from the Bigfoot Records channel on YouTube, and it's one of those stories that sticks with you long after the screen goes dark. The narrator is Frank Dalton, a 71-year-old former Montana Department of Justice detective who spent his career working homicides and cold cases. After retiring, he took up buying old hunting and outdoor gear at estate sales, which is how he stumbled onto something that would change how he sees the wilderness forever. In September 2018, Dalton picked up a cardboard box at an estate sale outside Libby, Montana. The box belonged to Dale Merritt, a retired Forest Service ranger who had died without heirs at 89. Inside were two pairs of binoculars, a pre-war compass, and a reel of 8mm film that nobody, including Dalton, knew existed until he got home and unpacked it. What he saw when he finally threaded that film through a borrowed projector is the kind of footage that researchers have been chasing for decades. The first two minutes are unremarkable, just amateur camera work panning across late summer mountain scenery in the Cabinet Mountains of Northwest Montana. But at the 2 minute and 15 second mark, something walks into frame from the left, and everything changes. Dalton describes what he saw with the clinical precision of someone who has spent three decades writing case reports. The figure was approximately 8 feet tall based on his calculations against identifiable creek bank landmarks. It walked with a sustained, unhurried bipedal gait, the kind of purposeful stride that suggests a destination, not the bounding movement of a startled bear. The hair was dark, nearly black, covering everything visible except a face that briefly turned toward the camera and communicated something Dalton could only describe as awareness. And then there's the detail that makes this footage stand out from almost every other piece of Sasquatch evidence ever captured. The figure was wearing a flannel shirt. Dark plaid, longtail work shirt style, worn open with the tails hanging loose. The shirt didn't fit, the shoulders extended far beyond the seams, the sleeves ended well above the wrist, but it was clearly a garment placed on a body that had no business wearing human clothing. For 22 seconds, the figure moved across the frame before disappearing to the right. Dalton watched that 22 seconds eleven times before stopping the projector and sitting at his kitchen table with the lights on. He didn't sleep that night. What happened next is where the story takes a darker turn. Dalton, trained as an investigator, did what any good detective would do. He eliminated alternative explanations one by one. A man in a costume? The proportions weren't human, and 1970s gorilla suits couldn't move like that. A bear with something caught on it? No bear maintains bipedal locomotion of that quality for 22 continuous seconds on that terrain. Double exposure or film artifact? Neither produces three-dimensional figures with consistent lighting response. By noon the next day, Dalton had exhausted every mundane explanation. What remained was real, and it connected to something he had spent his career investigating, missing persons cases. The film stock was analyzed and dated to Kodakchrome 8mm manufactured between 1972 and 1979. Dale Merritt had been assigned to the Cabinet Mountains District beginning in 1959 and worked it continuously until his retirement in 1991. His district included the Saddle Creek drainage where the footage was shot. In 32 years of field reports, Merritt never once mentioned anything unusual in that area. That silence, Dalton argues, is its own form of data. A man who filmed what he filmed and never reported it had made a choice, and Dalton wanted to understand why. Using his retired detective credentials and contacts within the Montana Department of Justice, Dalton pulled the missing persons files for the Cabinet Mountains wilderness area from 1968 to 1982. What he found was 17 unresolved cases. Seventeen people who entered that specific wilderness area and were never accounted for. The Cabinet Mountains have long been a hotspot for Sasquatch reports in the Pacific Northwest. The range sits in the northwestern corner of Montana, bordering Idaho, and its dense, remote terrain has made it a favorite hiding place for those who don't want to be found. Researchers have collected witness reports from the area for decades, including from loggers, hunters, and Forest Service employees who described encounters that match the broader profile of Sasquatch sightings across the region. Footage like this is rare. The Patterson-Gimlin film from 1967 remains the gold standard for Sasquatch video evidence, but it's not the only piece of film that has surfaced over the years. 8mm reels from the 1970s and 80s occasionally surface at estate sales, pawn shops, and family cleanouts, often shot by people who either didn't realize what they had captured or chose to keep it quiet. The Cabinet Mountains footage fits that pattern, a piece of evidence that sat in a cardboard box for decades, waiting for someone with the investigative background to recognize what it contained. Whether you believe the footage is genuine or not, Dalton's investigation raises questions that go beyond the film itself. The 17 unresolved missing persons cases in the Cabinet Mountains during a period that overlaps with when the footage was shot is a detail that deserves attention. Correlation isn't causation, but for researchers who have long suspected that Sasquatch encounters in remote wilderness areas might explain some of these disappearances, the timing is impossible to ignore. The video runs longer than the discussion I worked from, so there's more to the story than what I've covered here. Dalton goes into detail about his investigation process, the specific missing persons cases he reviewed, and what he believes the footage reveals about what is living in those mountains. It's worth watching all the way through, especially if you're interested in the investigative side of Sasquatch research and how someone with actual law enforcement experience approaches evidence like this. One thing that struck me while going through this footage is how Dalton frames his own reaction. He doesn't claim to be a believer. He describes himself as a detective who eliminated every alternative explanation he could construct and was left with what the evidence showed. That kind of methodical, skeptical approach is exactly what gives this story weight. He's not selling anything. He's reporting what he found, the same way he would report any other case that came across his desk. The Cabinet Mountains footage, if genuine, would be one of the clearest pieces of Sasquatch video evidence ever captured. The bipedal walk, the estimated height, the clothing, and the face that briefly turned toward the camera all combine to create an image that is difficult to dismiss. Whether you accept it or not, it's the kind of footage that demands a response from anyone serious about the subject. Check out the full video on the Bigfoot Records channel. It's one of those stories that reminds you why this research matters and why people keep going back into the mountains looking for answers.