Bonus Episode: Fred Beck's 1924 Sasquatch Encounter

Thank you so much for listening to Believer. Everyone has been so great since the first episode aired. You’ve been sharing it and reviewing it and saying nice things about it… Episode 2 is out next week, but that’s a whole seven days away, so I thought I’d give you a little interlude in the form of a historical Sasquatch encounter.

[Music begins: “Desert Hideout,” by Christoffer Moe Ditlevsen]

In 1924, a group of prospectors near Mt. St. Helens related a story that’s commonly credited with bringing Bigfoot to the 20th Century imagination. The story was widely printed in newspapers and set off an “ape hunt” in the surrounding area at the time, and was re-told and re-written about and re-enacted for decades afterwards. One of the prospectors, Fred Beck, later wrote a book recounting his version of the story. The book is evocatively titled “I FOUGHT THE APEMEN OF MOUNT SAINT HELENS, WASHINGTON.” I’m gonna read you an excerpt from it now. This has been lightly edited for length.

[Music fades out.]

First of all, I wish to give an account of the attack and tell of the famous incident of July, 1924, when the "Hairy Apes" attacked our cabin.

[Ambient nature sounds begin.]

We had been prospecting for six years in the Mt. St. Helens and Lewis River area in Southwest Washington. We had, from time to time, come across large tracks by creek beds and springs. In 1924 I and four other miners were working our gold claim, the Vander White. It was two miles east of Mt. St. Helens near a deep canyon now named "Ape Canyon" — which was so named after an account of the incident reached the newspapers.

Hank, a great hunter and good woodsman, was always a little apprehensive after seeing the tracks. The tracks were large and we knew that no known animal could have made them: the largest measured nineteen inches long.

It was in the middle of July, and we had received a good assay on our claim, and everyone was excited. …

We had been hearing noises in the evening for about a week. We heard a shrill, peculiar whistling each evening.

[High-pitched animal call.]

We would hear it coming from one ridge, and then hear an answering whistling from another ridge.

[Another high-pitched animal call.]

We also heard a sound which I could best describe as a booming, thumping sound — just like something was hitting its self on its chest.

[Sound of something hitting its chest.]

Hank asked me to accompany him to the spring, about a hundred yards from our cabin, to get some water, and suggested we take our rifles — to be on the safe side. We walked to the spring, and then, Hank yelled and raised his rifle, and at that instant, I saw it.

[Rifle cocks. High-pitched animal cry.]

It was a hairy creature, and he was about a hundred yards away, on the other side of a little canyon, standing by a pine tree. It dodged behind the tree, and poked its head out from the side of the tree. And at the same time, Hank shot.

[Sound of gunshot. Then another, and another.]

I could see the bark fly out from the tree from each of his three shots. Someone may say that that was quite a distance to see the bark fly, but I saw it.

[Answering high-pitched call.]

The creature I judged to have been about seven feet tall with blackish-brown hair. It disappeared from our view for a short time, but then we saw it, running fast and upright, about two hundred yards down the little canyon.

[Sound of feet running in grass. Three gunshots.]

I shot three times before it disappeared from view.

We took the water back to the cabin, and explained the affair to the rest of the party; and we all agreed, including Hank, to go home the next morning as it would be dark before we could get to the car. We agreed it would be unsound to be caught by darkness on the way out.

Nightfall found us in our pine-log cabin. ...

About midnight, we were all awakened… [by] a tremendous thud against the cabin wall. ...

[Sound of footsteps on wood, sliding wood, high-pitched cries.]

[Music: “Diffusion Echo,” by Ethan Sloan]

Then, we heard a great commotion outside: it sounded like a great number of feet trampling and rattling over a pile of our unused shakes. We grabbed our guns. … By actual count, we saw only three of the creatures together at one time, but it sounded like there were many more.

This was the start of the famous attack, of which so much has been written in Washington and Oregon papers through out the years. Most accounts tell of giant boulders being hurled against the cabin, and say some even fell through the roof, but this was not quite the case. There were very few large rocks around in that area. It is true that many smaller ones were hurled at the cabin, but they did not break through the roof, but hit with a bang, and rolled off.

[Sound of rocks impacting.]

Some accounts state I was hit in the head by a rock and knocked unconscious. This is not true.

[Gunshots.]

The only time we shot our guns that night was when the creatures were attacking our cabin. When they would quiet down for a few minutes, we would quit shooting.

[Guns reloading.]

I told the rest of the party, that maybe if they saw we were only shooting when they attacked, they might realize we were only defending ourselves. … We did shoot, however, when they climbed up on our roof.

[Many gunshots.]

We shot round after round through the roof. We had to brace the hewed-logged door with a long pole taken from the bunk bed. The creatures were pushing against it and the whole door vibrated from the impact.

[Wood rattling.]

[More gunshots.]

We responded by firing many more rounds through the door. They pushed against the walls of the cabin as if trying to push the cabin over... Hank and I did most of the shooting — the rest of the party crowded to the far end of the cabin, guns in their hands. One had a pistol, which still is in my family's possession, the others clutched their rifles. They seemed stunned and incredulous.

[Music and sounds have ended. Ambient nature noises fade in.]

The attack continued the remainder of the night, with only short intervals between.

The attack ended just before daylight. Just as soon as we were sure it was light enough to see, we came cautiously out of the cabin.

It was not long before I saw one of the apelike creatures, standing about eighty yards away near the edge of Ape Canyon. I shot three times, and it toppled over the cliff, down into the gorge, some four hundred feet below.

[Gunshots. Body impact, stones scattering. Footsteps running.]

Then Hank said that we should get out of there as soon as possible; and not bother to pack our supplies or equipment out; "After all," he said, "it's better to lose them, than our lives." We were all only too glad to agree.

When we were back home in Kelso, Washington, [Hank] told some of his friends, and somehow the story leaked out to the papers, and the Great Hairy Ape Hunt of 1924 was on.

[Music: “Partners in Crime,” by Christoffer Moe Ditlevsen]

A link to Fred Beck’s full book can be found in the show notes. You can read about Fred’s previous psychic experiences, and how he determined that the ape-men he met are supernatural beings “not entirely of the world.” Please be advised that as a product of the 1920’s, the book contains some observations about Native American peoples that, um, while not outrageously offensive, certainly reflect the attitudes of its time.

Mt Saint Helens erupted in 1980 and significantly altered the landscape of Ape Canyon, so all evidence of the cabin at Vander White is presumed lost. The Ape Canyon trail and nearby Ape Cave are still popular with hikers to this day.

Thank you again for listening. The next full episode of Believer comes out in a week, and I think it’s a pretty good one. So stay tuned, stay subscribed, and stay out of the woods.

[Music fades out.]