Saturday, March 28, 2015

The Little People Are Watching

The following account is from the summer of 2003 in Rough River State Park, Kentucky. There were 2 known sources of this story, Paranormal and a paragraph printed in a Louisville, KY newspaper a few days after the incident. I came across a thread post from a person who states they were privy to this event. There have been a few details added from the original report:

June 24th 2003 - mid-afternoon: The witness was on a weekend canoeing trip for rest and relaxation in an remote area of Rough River State Park. He was strangely queasy and anxious for some unknown reason. for some unknown reason, he felt like he had something to fear. Heeding these sensations, he was extremely cautious on the river. After several miles he paddled the canoe to the riverbank and tied it off to a tree. He got out to explore the area. Looking 8-10 ft downstream he spotted what looked like the top of a gray clay jar peeking out of the water.

His first thoughts were that he might have found a native people's artifact. He started down the bank toward the creek which was extremely slippery with mud. He stopped just short of the water and very close to the old earthenware pot. It was more like a clay crock and he soon realized that it probably wasn't very old. He poked at it and noticed there were small handprints on it. He thought it could had been raccoon prints but they were more like little human handprints, about an inch wide.

He tried to pry the thing loose using a stick but suddenly heard a noise. He heard what sounded like children laughing in the distance. The sound was coming from downstream. When he managed to pull the crock jar out of the mud, something let out a scream. It sounded like a little girl, very high pitched and loud. Not knowing what to do he grabbed the jar and began to scramble up the muddy bank. Glancing back, he thought he saw something move along the creek. He stopped and sat at the top of the bank for a moment looking at the jar, trying to comprehend the handprints.

After a few minutes, he laid the crock down, got up and walked along the creek stopping every once in a while to peek through the bushes to see if anybody was there. At one point, he looked over the bank he noticed two little people standing about 1 foot tall. They had pale skins, little brown leather pants held up by suspenders, no shirts and little pointy hats made of what looked like leather. They had leather foot coverings that went up past the ankle. Their hair was reddish color and their eyes blue. Their hands were only about an inch wide. They knew he was watching but they continued their task of pulling some kind of wooded stump down the muddy creek bank with long leather ropes or strings. These little men were surprisingly clean, for the work they were doing. He then heard a thump back where he first had gone in the creek. He looked back and there were three more of the little men, exactly like the first two. They had pushed the crock jar back down the bank. They were all laughing, high-pitched laughter, like a bunch of kids. He then heard a loud snap and they were all gone. Their footprints were plainly visible in the mud, but they were gone along with the crock jar and the wooded stump. They had vanished in a split second.

He walked around in an attempt to pick up a trail but to no avail. He continued his trip with no other incidents.