I have tried many times to put this story down on paper. Each time I would reach a certain point and stop. The last attempt was over ten years ago, but I need to tell it. Mostly for me, and to finally, maybe, put this experience behind me. And to see if putting it down on paper will make it any more believable. I haven't even started and the goosebumps are already playing along my arms. Like so may of you I love to be frightened. But I have found I prefer to be scared by something that happened to someone else.

The summer of 1974 was one of the best of my life. I was fourteen and living in Kansas City, Kansas, a good community that shared the border with Kansas City Missouri to make up the Metropolitan area. I had spent two weeks the summer before as a C.I.T. (Counselor in Training) at the Theodore Naish Scout Reservation in Bonner Springs, Kansas. Boy Scouts was a huge part of my life and my application had been accepted to work on staff at Camp Naish for six weeks, followed by a trip to the Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimmeron New Mexico.

It was a great time to be alive. My brother was in Scouts and we played in a neighborhood that had probably forty kids in it. Our friend's parents all helped raise each other's kids and we mostly stayed out of trouble and had good times. We ran home from school and watched Dark Shadows every afternoon at our house. We went to scary movies and watched Gregory Graves on Sunday afternoon. We loved to watch any of the old Universal Films and considered the Frankenstein Monster, Dracula and The Wolfman to be close personal friends of ours. Anything to get a scare.

My best friends in Scouts were Mark Larsen and Doug Green. Both members of the Senior Patrol with me, both also planning to be on staff and make the trip to Philmont. We were all on the trail to Eagle Scout together. Our families attended Victory Hills Baptist Church together and we came from good families and all enjoyed the Scouting experience. Earlier that year, Richard Sorrell and his younger brother had joined our Troop. Richard was an extremely intelligent kid that we all liked instantly. He went to my school and sang in the A Capella Choir with me. He began moving quickly through the requirements of Scouting and had decided to join us on the camp staff.

So, we headed off to camp and each went to our different departments where we trained to work for the summer. I worked on the Ranger Staff where I learned how to care for the camp and the environment. Mark, Doug and Richard all worked in different areas as merit badge counselors. We enjoyed Staff week immensely even though the work of setting up camp, consisting of 500 tents, was hard. Soon enough we were comfortable with our surroundings and except for the occasional homesickness we all had a good time.

It was about four weeks into the eight-week session that Richard formed what some of the other staff members called "The God Squad". Richard was very religious and would give lectures and tell about miracles and the power of darkness. He would often read from the bible and made wild interpretations of the text. But he focused more on the Devil and darkness than he did the goodness and light. Doug, Mark and I were usually there to support him and we began to be affected by these sessions.

Now, what made these stories more real and believable were that we had all just seen "The Exorcist" at the movies. And at fourteen, I don't mind telling you that movie scared the hell out of me. Richard would gather us around in one of the cabins at staff village and begin to preach. It was usually dark and we were all susceptible to the spell he would weave. We would imagine all kind of evil around us and there was usually someone outside our group that was just mean enough to slam a door or throw a stick into the woods to scare that crap out of us. It wasn't hard to be scared with the wilderness right outside your door.

One of the by-products of these stories was that I had very powerful dreams. The Exorcist had given me some serious nightmares and they now returned to haunt me. I mean wake up in a cold sweat dreams where it took you awhile to realize where you were. I would wake up before dawn and pray for the sun to come up.  Before long I had begun to wish that camp was over and was looking forward to Philmont and then getting home.

Now, as it would happen, several times after Richard’s sermon, I would find myself needing to make the quarter mile hike to Central camp to meet someone, or fetch something for the next day or to prep for the next days merit badge class. And so I would start out to make the trek to Central camp, usually for some reason without a flashlight and I would traipse along the gravel road trying to think of anything except what might be out there in the dark. The farther I got away from camp, the darker it would get and the more frightened I would become. I heard every animal scurry in the woods, heard every owl and even the full moon added to my frightened state. I mean take all of the circumstances and add the fact that Werewolves were at their peak time and any kid would be worried.

So, by the time I would reach the point where I could see Central Camp I was nearly paralyzed with fear. I mean scared to the point of shaking, cold sweats, real primal fear. And I would resist the panic as long as I could until I would begin to run to finish my trip. My adrenaline glands must have been producing toxic amounts of their product. Once I would reach the camp, I would sit outside the Mess Hall on a bench until my heart stopped pounding and then go in to do whatever it was I was suppose to do. And I would try to find someone to walk back with me.

This happened sometimes a couple of time a week and it really embarrassed me to be so afraid. Each time I would set out I would be determined that I would not panic this time. And each time panic would grip me, followed by shame at the end of my journey. I never talked to anyone about it because I thought it was so silly and that my friends would laugh at me. But, as I found out later, someone noticed.

Tim Mize was probably about eighteen years old and was a real practical joker. I kind of idolized him because he was an Eagle Scout, on the Ceremonial Team for OA and was so funny and told great stories. And great jokes. He was probably in drama in school because he had such a magnetic presence. And sometimes he let me hang around him and didn't tease me like some of the older Scouts did the younger ones. I watched him play jokes on other kids all of the time. I guess I never though I would be the butt of one. Kids are so trusting.

Tim must have observed me at the end of one of my treks and formed a plan to throw a scare into me. So, one night late in July, with only one day of camp left, Tim asked me to make a run over to Central camp to the Order of the Arrow Hut to pick up some ceremonial beads. He must have been disappointed to see that I had, for once, remembered my flashlight. But did that dissuade him? Heck no. He just asked to borrow it. The fact that it was just now dusk did not arouse my suspicion. I gave him the flashlight and he went around the corner to the pop shack. Ten minutes later he was back and the flashlight was returned. He had turned the batteries around, but of course I didn't know that.

Tim suggested that I go to the latrine before running my errand. I did and was not surprised to find him gone when I returned. This time I was determined to make the trip incident free and I knew if all else failed, I had my flashlight for backup. I started down the gravel road that sloped up from the South Camp Mess Hall. Behind that building was Staff Village where, less than an hour before, I had stood with Mark and Doug while Richard read from Revelations. Richard loved the Book of Revelations. "And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, come and see. And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth."

And so I was already in a heightened state of mind and, of course, Tim Mize had run ahead to wait for me. I resisted the urge to turn on my flashlight. I wanted to save it as a last resort and I really wanted to beat this thing. I began singing a Scout song as I walked and it seemed to help. "Trail the Eagle, trail the Eagle, upward as we go. First the Star and then the Life as onward we will go…” and on I sang as I walked and it was working.

Until I looked up just as the moon cleared a cloud. And it was full. I wasn't singing anymore and that old feeling began to creep up on me. And then I heard a twig snap in the woods ahead of me and I stopped cold. Every hair was standing up on end as the fear gripped me like the dirt hitting Pigpen when he steps outside after a bath. I was frozen in my tracks and staring in the direction of the sound. "To kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth." Thanks, Richard. Moments passed as I listened. Nothing. Not a sound. The switch on the flashlight felt like it would never move as I pointed it ahead of me and clicked it on. Nothing. And then I realized even the crickets had stopped and that made it worse.

I started forward at a trot, and then at a run as the full panic gripped me. I made it about thirty feet farther down the road before Tim jumped out of the bushes and grabbed me with a bloodcurdling scream. My fear peaked as I also screamed and then passed with relief as I realized who it was. And then the cussing began as he doubled over in laughter. "Are you crazy you son of a bitch? You could have given me a heart attack!" I screamed. I was really pissed and at the same time the anger was a much preferable emotion than the one I had just left. Tim was in tears as I asked him what he did to my flashlight. The moon went behind a cloud.

Abruptly, Tim stopped laughing. Cut short. He stood straight up and said, "did you hear that?" "Forget it", I said. "I'm not falling for another one". I have tried to replay what happened next in my mind over and over again. As Tim stood up the moon passed from behind the cloud. Standing next to him was something huge, must have been about seven feet tall. It could have been a bear and I would have believed it was, had it not spoke. I cannot describe the voice other than to say it shook me to my very core. "Children should not be out this late without a torch! Lucky for you I have just fed," it said in a menacing voice. Indeed the light of the moon reflected off of the blood dripping from its jowls as it spoke. The thing's breath produced a foul stench; the sickening sweet smell of blood mixed with the odor of decaying animal flesh. I felt my head spinning and was afraid I would faint. I knew if I did, I would not wake up. Ever. I kept thinking that I should run but I was frozen with fear. Tim must have been thinking the same thing I was. Just as he turned to run and the thing picked him up by the neck. I remember his feet moving like he was running. It would have been funny if I hadn't been frightened out of my wits.

Now in this situation you would like to report that you had done something very brave. I did nothing but shake and cry. Tim, however, had a little better preservation instinct than I did. I watched transfixed as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his Scout knife. Opening the blade he raised his arm and buried the knife in the creature's arm - the one holding him up. The monster let out and earth shaking scream and dropped Tim, whose legs were still moving. As Tim ran toward camp the thing pulled the knife out of it's arm and threw it towards him. And then I felt its breath on my neck and the brush of its fur on my arm as it rushed past me and into the woods.

The next conscious thought I had was being in my bunk in the cabin in Staff Village. Richard was knocking on the window to be let in because both doors were locked. He told me Tim Mize had come into camp dazed and had bent taken to the Medical Lodge in a state of shock. I did not sleep that night and would not let my bunkmates turn off the light. Tim Mize was gone the next morning and I went by the office to say my good-bye to the Ranger, Lloyd Walker. As I approached his office I heard him on the phone to someone at the Scout office. …."No I'm not kidding. Some kind of predator killed and devoured a full-grown 8-point buck. I've been Ranger here for 20 years. We've never had an attack like this!" I'm sure that I turned white as a sheet.

I skipped the good-bye and went out to the parking lot to wait for my mom. When she pulled up I was sitting on a log with my stuff around me. I was mumbling and all the way home repeated the same verse. "Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." I never told her what happened. And I never saw Tim Mize again after that day. I went home and did not miss church for years after that. To this day the book of Revelations produces a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. And in all of those years from then to now, I never told a single soul what happened that night. Until now.