Lore - Episode 53: Trees and Shadows

Episode Date: February 6, 2017

Our connection to animals is ancient, intimate, and complex. Humans have worshiped them, sacrificed them, lived with them, and been buried with them. But folklore from all over the world hints at a darker connection, and it just might be true. * * * Official Lore Website: www.lorepodcast.com Extra member episodes: www.patreon.com/lorepodcast Access premium content!

Some of the things we see aren't what they appear to be. Heather Bowie and her cousins learned that lesson back in 1989. She was 11 at the time, and according to her mother Karen, it was a bright winter day. The sort of day where the sun reflects off every inch of snow, which always has a way of making dark objects like houses and trees stand out. Heather and her cousins were walking along a small country road that ran between their town and the next when they saw a dog sitting in a stream near the roadside. Well, stream might be too strong of a term.

It was just a bunch of runoff, the sort that passes beneath roads through those big metal tunnels. It was a drainage ditch, basically, but kids love dogs, so Heather and the others veered off the roadside and into the snow to walk toward it. They assumed it was a local pet that had wandered a bit too far from home, so they planned to check its color and see what they could do. But even from a distance, it looked a bit odd. To be specific, it looked too big to be a dog.

They took one more step toward it and then stopped. They stopped because that's when the dog turned to look at them. And as it did so, it did something they weren't expecting. It stood up on its hind legs like a human. Obviously frightened, the girls ran home as fast as they could. Humans have always had a connection to animals. We live with them in our homes. We depend on them for food and resources.

We identify with them, sometimes even treating them more like people than beasts. We speak to them, we name them, and we project human personalities on them. For thousands of years, we've treated them as if they were more than animals. But of course, that's just our imagination. If we believe the stories, though, it might be more true than we expected. As I said before, some things aren't what they appear to be. Animals, they're worse. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is Lore.

Their connection to animals is nearly as old as humanity itself. We've almost always treated them as important parts of the world around us, although different cultures have expressed that importance in a variety of ways. The common thread, though, is that animals have always helped us better understand our world. Some cultures have revered them as gods to worship. Others have seen them as valuable sacrifices to offer to whatever deity they wanted to please.

In many cultures, animals have served as our companions through daily life, and in others, they've journeyed with the dead into the afterlife. Just think of what we know of ancient Egyptian culture. There were entire cults built around specific animals, like bulls and cats. Their dead were frequently buried alongside animals that held personal or spiritual significance. And many of the Egyptian gods and goddesses were represented through simple animal symbolism, Anubis, for example, was part man, part jackal. Sekhmet was a woman with the head of a lion.

Ancient Hindu teachings for thousands of years have demanded deep respect for the animals around us. In China, the ancient philosophies of Confucianism and Taoism both stress the same thing. For the Hindus, that respect is founded on the idea of reincarnation. In China, it's rooted more in moral responsibility. But the result is the same. Animals are, and always have been, important to us. And yes, I know that ancient cultures focused a lot of their religion and practice around

the sun and moon and stars, but they often framed those complex systems with simple animal language. That's why so many cultures have their own zodiac symbol, where the major constellations are represented by animals. The Greek root of zodiac, by the way, literally means circle of little animals. Just an aside, the ancient Egyptian word for cat was mu, which sounds a lot like the noise that cats actually make. And that classic stereotypical dog name phyto, it comes from the Latin word phidelis, which

means loyal and faithful. It's easy to see then how animals have helped us understand our world a little better. They help us find our bearings and keep us company in a big, wild world. The more significantly, though, they've helped us understand ourselves by giving humans a sense of identity and purpose, a theme or a banner to unite around, in a sense. Sometimes those themes took the form of religion, as was the case in Egypt with the bull cult. Sometimes it's more of a totem thing, where an entire tribe or community built their identity around a significant animal from their environment.

Sometimes they did it for a feeling of safety. Sometimes it was a symbol of power. In Icelandic folklore, the Norse warrior class known as Berserkers were members of the bear cult. Berserker in Old Norse literally meant bear shirt, but it also embodied that fierce, powerful nature that they wanted for themselves as warriors. They were often depicted wearing bare skins and sometimes even bare heads as head coverings. That's a tradition that still survives, by the way.

You can see it in the ceremonial military caps worn by some personnel in multiple European countries. The most common tribal animal, though, has always been the wolf. It's a global fascination, with examples found in Mexico, North America, India, Mongolia, and the Middle East. This is probably because wolves represented so much of what early humanity identified with. They moved in packs, they hunted their food, and they have a distinct social order.

Many hunter-gatherer community would instantly admire those qualities. And like bears, wolves were also seen as brave and powerful warriors. Ancient Persian and Hittite warriors were known to dress in wolf skins for battle. Interestingly, though, they also had a reputation for tossing their weapons aside and just jumping on their enemies, literally biting them like wolves. For a very long time, you see, humans have wanted to be animals, which, of course, led to stories where that was the case. Animals that became people, people that became animals.

It's an idea so powerful that we can find it hiding inside the folklore of dozens of cultures. The Native American skinwalker, the now wall of Central America, and of course, throughout much of Europe, there's the werewolf. These are stories, of course, artifacts from another time, when animals were gods and humans desperately wanted to imitate the divine. And yes, these stories also address our dual nature because we are, in so many ways, nothing more than animals ourselves.

But those moral lessons have a way of distracting us from the plot. For thousands of years, people have told stories about mysterious beasts. And it turns out, those stories might be more real than we care to believe. In 1989, a woman was driving along the same country road that Heather Bowie and her cousins had just walked along weeks before when they sighted that strange creature. In Lorraine and Drizzi's case, it was well after sunset, so she was doing the responsible thing and scanning the edges of her headlights for wild animals. Wisconsin has plenty of deer, after all, and deer don't mix well with windshields and

front ends. Lorraine worked as a manager at one of the local bars in Elkhorn and had just wrapped up a very long, very tiring shift. All she really wanted to do was get home safely. But when she did notice something unusual, it wasn't in the periphery of her headlights. It was right in the road in front of her. Seeing it early gave her the chance to slow down and swerve to avoid hitting it, but it also helped her get a good look at it.

From a distance, it looked as if there was an animal hunched low to the pavement of the oncoming lane. Its head was gently bobbing at an irregular rhythm. She couldn't tell for sure, but it almost seemed to be eating. As she slowly passed it, she claims she saw everything. It was eating all right. Whatever it was, the creature was hunched over a pile of roadkill, pulling big chunks of flesh off the dead animal.

Lorraine said she could clearly make out what appeared to be long, white fangs that protruded from a gray snout. Together with the pointed ears, she couldn't help but think of it as a wolf. The trouble was. This wolf was kneeling on the road. Like a human. It's one story, I know, and stories that are born in the middle of the night after an exhausting day of work are often full of flaws.

That might very well be the case here. I think we've all had moments when we've seen things that don't make sense. So Lorraine's story could just be a bit of midnight confusion, I suppose, if it wasn't for the other stories. Two years later on Halloween night, in fact, it was Doris Gibson's turn. She was just 18 at the time and had been driving out to pick a friend up for some trick or treating back in town. Like Lorraine before her, she was driving that same stretch of country road named for

the old Bray family farm that it passed. According to the story Doris later told to a local reporter, she'd briefly taken her eyes off the road to switch channels on the radio when she felt the car lurch. It was as if, she said, she'd run something over. Frightened by the possibility of what had just happened, she stopped her car, put it in park, and then got out for a look. Doris, it seems, wasn't a big horror movie fan, because anyone who knows anything about horror films knows that you never, ever get out of the car, ever.

Still, there wasn't a scratch on her car. The bumper was spotless. There was no sign of blood or fur or anything else that might hint at fresh roadkill, and even more convincing, there was nothing on the road, no dead animal, no unlucky farmer out for an evening walk, not even a pothole. There was no clue anywhere that could explain the bump she'd felt. She was about to turn and head back to her car when movement caught her attention. There was something in the trees and shadows along the roadside.

To her, it was a large figure that stood upright like a man, but seemed hairy and very muscular, which as you might imagine, was a pretty shocking thing to see on a dark, lonely country road. So Doris did the smart thing and bolted for her car door. As she did, this thing, whatever it was, chased after her. Doris said she could hear the heavy thud of the creature's feet on the pavement behind her and the sound of the deep, panting breaths. Thankfully, she managed to get into the car and shifted quickly back into drive, but as she pulled away, she felt her car shudder once more.

When she looked in the rearview mirror, all she could see was the dark silhouette of the creature filling her back window. It had jumped onto the trunk. Whatever her attacker was, she claims that it fell off once she got her car moving quickly enough, but she wasn't willing to stop for another look. She did, however, continue on to her friend's house, and eventually, they both headed back to town for some Halloween fun. Later that night, on her way back along Bray Road to drop her friend back off at home, Doris

swears she saw the figure one more time. It was far off in the distance, at the edge of her headlights, but it was the same unmistakable shape, tall, thick, and very animal-like, but standing upright on two legs. It wasn't until the next day, in the safety of her own driveway and by the light of the noonday sun, that she took another look at her car. There, on the trunk, she found evidence that something very unusual and very dangerous had taken place the night before. Long, vicious scratches all grouped together as if they were made by claws.

This is the point in the story where you're probably expecting me to clarify what the creature was. All of the physical descriptions certainly point toward the folklore regarding werewolves, but almost no one in Elkhorn made that connection. Maybe that's because there were never any stories of humans transforming into the monster, or perhaps it's because the sightings weren't limited to full moon nights. In the end, whatever it might have been, the people of the area took to calling it the Beast of Bray Road.

But there were other theories, of course. One common suggestion was rooted in the Native American folklore about a giant wolf known as the Shunka Warakyn, which was described as sort of a hybrid between a wolf and a coyote. Others have made comparisons to the Inuit stories of the Amorak or the Wehala, both of which were enormous, monstrous wolves. But honestly, there are far too many human characteristics attributed to the Bray Road creature to make the comparisons stick. And that's without taking into account the additional sightings, because Lorraine and

Doris weren't the only witnesses to see something strange along that stretch of country road. And once they spoke to a local reporter, others found the courage to come forward with their own tales. Marvin Kirshnik was one of them. According to his testimony, he had his own encounter way back in 1981, a full decade before Doris Gibson. Unlike the others, though, his sighting didn't happen in the dark. He'd been driving along Highway 11, which runs just northeast of Elkhorn, and as he

approached the turnoff for Bray Road, he saw an unusual animal in the trees along the side of the road. Kirshnik slowed down when he saw it and then pulled over to get a better look. The way he described it, much of the creature was obscured by the underbrush, but it was clearly wolf-like. They stared at each other for a moment before the beast moved toward the car. Brightened, Kirshnik drove away quickly. Five years later, in 1986, Diane Koenig was traveling in the same area, returning home

after a day in nearby Burlington. From a distance, her headlights didn't give her a very clear view, so at first it just looked like a tall man was walking along the side of the road with something heavy in his arms. As she drew closer, though, all of that came into focus. According to Koenig, this man had the head of a wolf, and the heavy burden that it held in its arms turned out to be a full-sized deer. Unlike Kirshnik, though, Koenig didn't stop for a closer look and instead sped up, just

in case the creature decided to give chase. She kept the story to herself for years out of fear that she'd be considered a lunatic. More stories flooded in. One unnamed girl told the authorities that she'd been chased up a tree by a wolf, then had to stay there for over an hour while it paced around trying to find a way to climb up after her. What struck her as odd, though, was that the wolf walked around the tree on its hind legs. When she led her parents back to the tree the next day, they found large claw marks on the

lower portion of the trunk. Even Scott Bray, who lived on the family farm that gave the road its name, claimed to have seen unusual things, including enormous wolf tracks on its property. Several animal control authorities were called to several homes in the area to examine and collect a large number of mutilated animal corpses. A few townsfolk tried to blame that one on satanic cults, but everyone else agreed it was just the beast of Bray Road. There was a good amount of fear in town, as you might expect, but the sightings were also

creating something else that's lasted to this day. A reputation. A bar where Lorraine and Drizzi worked eventually created a menu item called the Silver Bullet Special. A bakery in town started making wolf-shaped cookies. Think Roswell, New Mexico and UFO collectibles, but with wolves, and I think you'll get the idea. Even Chuck Coleman, a local state representative, got involved by using the beast of Bray Road

in his election marketing. He ran an ad that showed a man dressed up as the beast casting his vote for Coleman. As proof of the popularity of the Bray Beast stories, Coleman won his election. Doris Gibson's encounter also seemed to have been the last sighting of the creature by travelers on Bray Road. After that, Elkhorn, Wisconsin sort of became quiet. For a while, at least. You see, in the spring of 1992, county animal control officer John Fredrickson was called

to a field outside of town, to the east, near Bray Road. This is a man who was used to the occasional roadkill or injured farm animal. He'd seen a lot in his career, but when he arrived at the field, he was well out of his depth. Because there, laying in the pasture, with bodies of five horses, their throats had all been slashed. It seems that people are drawn to animals, and we always have been. And if the internet's collection of cat videos and dog tricks tells us anything, it's that

our passion for these animals isn't fading anytime soon. Perhaps they meet a deep, unspoken need in our soul, or maybe they just trigger the right pleasure center in our brains. Whatever the reason might be, animals are significant to us. And every time I see someone dress up their dog in a sweater, I can't help but think of how, for a very long time, humans used to be the ones dressed up as animals. We envy their grace, their strength, and their power, and that envy has woven itself into the very fabric of global folklore.

But what if there's another reason why we tell stories of animals that act human? What if, deep down, we fear the possibility? Or that our ancestors told just enough stories about human-like animals that we wonder, just a little? Whatever it was lurking in the trees and shadows of Elkhorn, Wisconsin back in the early 90s remains a mystery to this day. No answers have been uncovered. No unusual corpses have been found in the woods or along the roadside.

No nests or dens or whatever sort of dwelling a creature like the beast of Bray Road might have lived in. All we have is story. Sometimes all we ever have is story. All of the witnesses who came forward to tell their stories seemed to agree on the details. And surprisingly, all of them appear to be telling the truth. When a documentary on the events was being produced in 2008, all of the witnesses agreed to take a polygraph exam.

And each of them passed. It's not irrefutable proof, I know, but it's enough to make you wonder. Sometime after the events of the early 90s, a local who lived along Bray Road looked out his window to see a man standing in his driveway with a handgun. Obviously frightened by the sight of an armed stranger in his yard, he called the police who quickly arrived. Jose Contreras was immediately arrested and his handgun, along with 50 rounds of ammunition, was confiscated.

He eventually went to trial and his lawyer attempted to build a case around self-defense. Contreras, he told the judge, was looking for the beast of Bray Road, which he believed was a werewolf. That meant, according to his defense, he wasn't a danger to anyone else. The judge, though, dismissed the notion and convicted Contreras anyway. His reason? Apparently none of the bullets in the gun had been silver. Maybe it's fantasy.

Maybe it's real. But it's amazing, in the very least, how parts of fantasy can become so accepted that they play a role in something as significant as a criminal trial. One final tale. Just six years ago, more witnesses came forward about a new sighting. One night, in October of 2010, six people were driving together down Bray Road. Down the road ahead, they watched as shadows seemed to move across their path. As they drew closer, they watched the shape run into the open field to their right.

What they say might seem hard to believe, so we'll have to take them at their word. They claimed it was an animal, covered in fur and similar in appearance to a wolf, except it was running on two legs and not four. Once it reached the field, the beast dropped to all fours and bolted off into the darkness. One final detail sets this report apart from all the others, though. Because unlike every other encounter dating back over 30 years, this one finds a way to make the beast of Bray Road even more frightening. According to the witnesses, it wasn't a single creature.

There were two of them. This episode of lore was written and produced by me, Aaron Mankey, with research help from Marsette Crockett. Lore is much more than a podcast. There's a book series in bookstores around the country and online, and the second season of the Amazon Prime television show was recently released. Check them both out if you want more lore in your life. I also make two other podcasts, Aaron Mankey's Cabinet of Curiosities, and Unobscured, and

I think you'd enjoy both. Each one explores other areas of our dark history, ranging from bite-sized episodes to season-long dives into a single topic. You can learn about both of those shows and everything else going on all over in one central place. The World of Lore.com slash now. And you can also follow the show on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Just search for Lore podcast, all one word, and then click that follow button.

When you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.