Former RCMP Constable Finds Missing Boy With Sasquatch

So I just came across this video that stopped me in my tracks, and I have to share it with anyone who appreciates a really compelling firsthand account. A former RCMP constable named Glenn Reed is telling a story from 1978 that honestly gave me chills, and I think it's one of those accounts that deserves a lot more attention than it's getting. Glenn spent 26 years with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, posted out of the Williams Lake Detachment in the Caribou region of British Columbia. He grew up on a cattle ranch outside Risky Creek, learned to read sign before he learned cursive, and by the time he put on the uniform in 1969, he already knew that country better than most men twice his age. His secondary responsibility covered the Chilcotin Plateau, which for anyone unfamiliar is one of the most remote and rugged stretches of land in all of Canada. We're talking about a high dry plateau of lodgepole pine and bunch grass that gives way to the Itcha Ilgachuz volcanic complex, then the Rainbow Mountains, and eventually drops into the Coast Mountains where the bush gets so thick and wet a man can walk 50 feet from a logging road and disappear as if the earth swallowed him whole. The story begins on September 11, 1978. A 9-year-old boy named Tommy Dunore had gone out the previous evening to check on a mare close to foaling in the near pasture, about a quarter mile from the family ranch. He never came back. His mother Elma waited until full dark before panicking, which tells you something about how much freedom that boy was used to having on that spread. She walked the pasture herself with a lantern, found nothing, and drove 11 miles into Anahim Lake to use the phone at the lodge because the ranch itself didn't have a line strung out that far yet. Glenn arrived at the Dunore Ranch a little after 11 the next morning. He started at the gate to the near pasture and worked outward in a spiral, reading every disturbance in the grass and dirt. Tommy's boot prints, size two, showed clearly heading toward the mare's stall. From there the prints continued out the far side of the corral toward the tree line about 200 yards beyond the fence, which was not where Tommy was supposed to go. Alma had told him a hundred times not to go past that fence after dark because grizzly sign had turned up twice that summer. Here's where it gets interesting. The prints crossing that open ground were regular, evenly spaced, the stride of a boy walking normally, not running, not being dragged. Glenn noted that whatever happened to Tommy did not begin with an attack. It began with an invitation, and a 9-year-old boy who did not know enough yet to be afraid of the difference. About three-quarters of a mile into the timber, the ground dropped toward a small unnamed creek that fed eventually into the Dean River drainage. And there, in a patch of exposed mud at the water's edge, Glenn found the first thing that did not fit. Tommy's print was there, clear as day, size two, toes pointed toward the water. Beside it, overlapping the edge of his print in a way that told Glenn it had been made after his, was another print. It was bare, not booted. It was roughly 14 inches long, and it was not the print of any animal native to that region. Glenn tracked Tommy for 11 days through some of the worst bush in British Columbia. When he and his partner finally caught up to the boy, he was crouched by a creek with a wall of dark timber behind him. Tommy looked at them the way you look at strangers who have wandered onto your own land, and he told them he was not coming home. It took three more days before he changed his mind. What happened in those three days is the reason Glenn asked for a transfer out of general duty the following spring and never worked another missing person file for the rest of his career. I really encourage anyone reading this to go watch the full video. Glenn tells the story in his own words with the kind of detail and credibility that comes from a man who spent decades reading sign in that country. He makes it very clear he does not believe in monsters, but he believes in evidence, and the evidence he found at that creek crossing is something he never forgot. The Chilcotin has a long history of accounts like this from ranchers, trackers, and First Nations people who have lived on that land for generations, and this particular story adds a layer of physical evidence that is hard to dismiss. Definitely worth the watch. Let me know what you think after you've seen it.