Original photo: photoxpress
Monday, October 18, 2010
Just got word that Bill Emery will allow Bigfoot Ballyhoo to publish one of the "clear and sharp" photos of Clyde. This is all we know. We do not know when this will happen. Thank you, Marla for your help. ... Linda Newton-Perry
Georgia Hams has left a new comment on your post "Regarding Bill Emery":
People that think Bill Emery is a no show never bothered to look up other people. NABS out of California shows only ONE person in that organization. The executive director is the only member of that group but repeatedly says he has others that work with him. Again he claims a corporation funds his outfit but a tax record check shows no such named or unnamed corp. It's public record and must be on paper if they existed. They don't. He makes claims his outfit is the ONLY outfit that researches Bigfoot on a full time basis. Wrong again. Nobody wants to be called untruthful but seems people are willing to believe people they know are suspect themselves.
Again we have Oregon Bigfoot.com that claims this and that only to find out it all fiction too. Then its Mr. Squatchdetective that claims he has this and that without ever showing his evidence. Making claims isn't in itself a bad thing, its only when these puritans start spreading lies about others to save their own faces.
The root of this comment is please folks do your homework don't believe everything you read. If I am able to authenticate Bill Emery through a records check so can you.(Not one of those cheap free ones online). Again before yu read more junk on another site do some homework please.
Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Regarding Bill Emery":
Anonymous you are the foolish one. Emery was into Bigfoot long long before this site was ever thought up. Your getting crap info from one site that makes false claims. If you don't like it !!!.You say EVERYONE KNOWS. I doubt that very many bought the song and dance from <<<<<<< about her claim she couldnt find them. I made a search using a reliable background check and BINGO all where as they said.
Daryle Short has left a new comment on your post "Of Interest to Adults: A Comment":
Yes I did too. Checked all three of their names in GADS and found Emery Saxton and Parchelli. Yes Parchelli not Parchell but Italians shorten their names. Now with this said who in the ... gave oregonbigfoot.com and NABS and Squatchdetective the right or even the said right to do what they pulled.
If I was ESP I would go after them BT. A very short note on Saxton Sr. His death certificate is in the database at Oregon state. Someone is lying up a storm and needs to be prosecuted for fraudulent claims against ESP. After this mess I will no longer believe AW or DP when they say good morning!
“Stop the car, Mom! I see Rex.... Mom, stop!”
“Stop! Stop the car!”
“Watch for traffic, son!” Deborah Apple cautioned her eight-year-old as he jumped from the car. She checked the time. She had none. Even if everything went smoothly, she would still be late for work at Memorial General Hospital. “Bobby, come on.”
“Mom, come here! You’ve got to see this!”
“Is it Rex?… If it isn’t your dog then come back here, right now, Bobby!”
Mrs. Apple’s patience was beginning to wear thin.
Bobby Apple cautiously nudged with the toe of his boot, the animal he’d at first thought was Rex. It moved. “Mom!” he yelled, back at her window of the car, “it’s alive, crying.”
“Crying?… Is it Rex or not?” she asked, her eyes widened in concern.
Bobby shook his head. “It’s not Rex and not a dog. I think it’s a monkey, Mom. It’s hurt. It’s crying.” Tears glimmered in the boy’s eyes. “Mom, come and look at it.... Will you? It’s so little.”
“A crying boy and a crying monkey!” Deborah Apple said under her breath and smiled. Her son was indeed a sensitive child. Bobby was kneeling now, next to the animal.
“Just give me a minute. Let me call the hospital and tell them I’ll be late. Don’t touch it. It might bite.”
Once done with the call, she popped the trunk lid on her ’06 Chevy sedan and took out an old blanket. She’d already moved the car onto the gravel road leading to their property, to get it off the busy main highway.
Walking in long strides to where her son was up and pacing, she stuffed the car keys into her pocket; the whipping spring wind ruffled her short dark hair.
“It is a primate,” she said, kneeling.
“Can you make it better, Mom? You’re a nurse; you know how, right?”
Deborah Apple carefully turned the animal onto its back. One leg was broken, part of the fracture pushing through the skin. Other than that, she couldn’t tell the extent of its injuries. “We’ll do what we can, son.” As far as she was concerned, she was simply allowing her child a lesson in animal kindness; she felt certain the
creature would die and that, probably, even before they reached home. They lived two miles down the road from where the car was now parked.
“It’s so little,” Robert Brian Apple said softly as he rocked the animal. “Got tears in its eyes, Mom.... I’m glad it’s not crying. That was sad … hearing it cry.” He turned his freckled face to his mother.
“I know, Bobby. Buckle your seatbelt.”
A feral cat darted across the road; Deborah braked hard to miss it. Ahead and to their right, on top of a rounded hill, sprinkled with gnarled oak and Douglas fir, they could see the porch light, twinkling through a thin cloud at their families’ triple-wide manufactured home.
“Look!” Mrs. Apple pointed and said, “did you see them?―two deer. You’d think a cougar was chasing them. They were running like blazes.”
Bobby glanced up, pretending to search for the deer. But his interest was only in the monkey on his lap. The car rattled across a loose-planked wooden bridge as the road left flat ground and began a steep serpentine incline to the top of their hill.
The animal fluttered its eyes at the jolt of a tire bouncing over a pothole.
“It’s moving.... Mom!”
“Hold it tight. We’re almost home,” she said. “Don’t let it get loose.”
“It’s strong for a baby.”
“Keep its arms tucked in the blanket. It could scratch you.”
... to be continued next Monday.