So Supernatural - THE UNKNOWN: Mothman

Episode Date: June 2, 2021

In the 1960s a half-bird, half-man creature terrorized the small town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. But it didn't come alone... The Mothman's appearance triggered UFO activity, a vicious Men in Black presence and terrifying premonitions of a catastrophic event. One that ended up costing 46 people their lives.

In a small town, gossip travels fast, especially when the gossip is so wild and sensational that it feels like it couldn't possibly be true. That's what happened in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. In 1966, the town's population was hovering around 6,000 people. And in the course of a year, more than a hundred of them reported seeing a seven foot flying creature with glowing red eyes. It seemed like an urban legend, a rumor that spiraled out of control. And yet there's evidence to prove the creature existed, like ripped pieces of clothing, claw marks on cars, a missing German shepherd, and a premonition of a horrific tragedy that cost 46 people their lives. This is the story. I'm your host, Ashley Flowers. This week, I'm looking at Mothman, a half-bird, half-man creature that terrorized Point Pleasant, West Virginia in the

60s. To this day, the town's residents have no clue whether mothman was responsible for the destruction or if the monster was trying to warn them about something even worse. I have all that and more coming up. Stay with us. Today's story starts on November 14th, 1966. Merle Partridge is on his couch watching TV with his wife. They're a typical small-town, middle-aged couple catching up on their favorite shows after a very long day's work. So you can imagine Merle's frustration when around 10.30 p.m. the picture on the TV starts to get a bit fuzzy. Merle gets up to try and fix it, but when he stands, he feels this inexplicable sense of doom wash over him. And it's immediately followed by this high-pitched screech outside.

He later describes it as like a generator winding up, like metal scraping against metal. His dog, Bandit, is out on the front porch freaking out, staring out towards their barn and releasing a primal howl. So Merle grabs a flashlight, probably thinking it's a cat or raccoon or something, but when he shines the light in the direction of the barn, Merle knows right away. He's not looking at a cat. He sees two red eyes that look like giant bicycle reflectors about 150 yards away, just glaring back at him. But that's all he can see. He can't make out a body because, for a moment, he's just hypnotized. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to look away.

Just as his sense of doom turns into sheer terror, Bandit's instincts kick in and he bolts off in the direction of the eyes. Now, there's no way Merle's going after his dog, not right now. He's thinking if he goes near that barn, it could cost him his life. So instead, he goes back inside and just heads to bed, scared out of his mind. Like, I'm not even sure he says goodnight to his wife. But he does sleep with a loaded rifle by his side. Once the sun's up, Merle goes looking for Bandit. He notices the dog's tracks in the mud near the barn, but the prints just go in circles and then vanish. And Bandit? He's nowhere to be found. Now, as an animal lover myself, I can't even imagine what I would do in this situation. As far as I can tell Merle doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to even really digest

that his dog might be gone forever. He's too preoccupied with this terrible sinking feeling in his chest that this isn't the end. It's the beginning of something far worse. Less than 24 hours later, two newlywed couples are out joyriding through the streets of Point Pleasant, Linda and Rogers Scarberry and Steve and Mary Millett. It's 11.30 p.m., they're 18 years old, and they're heading to this popular makeout spot in Point Pleasant the locals call the TNT area, an abandoned munitions lodge from World War II. The grounds are filled with these long tunnels, weird concrete storage igloos, and at the center of it all is this old power plant. It's a little creepy for a makeout spot, sure. But anyway, Roger parks his Chevy near the old power plant looking for a little privacy. And as the windows are starting

to fog up, Linda lets out this bone-chilling gasp. She turns white as a ghost and silently points off into the distance. The others turn their heads following the direction of her finger, and there, reflecting in the car's headlights, are two huge glowing red eyes. This time, everyone sees what the eyes belong to, this hairy, grayish, man-like figure with muscular legs and giant wings folded along its back. At first, the creature barely seems to acknowledge their presence.

It just kind of stumbles towards the doors of the power plant. Everyone screams for Roger to book it, so they peel out of the TNT area and head back to the main road. Just when they think they're safe, they realize the creature is chasing them. Roger floors it as fast as the car can go, nearly 100 miles per hour. But the thing's got like a 10-foot wingspan, and it's managing to keep up with the Chevy. And if that's not terrifying enough, it's squeaking like some giant creepy mouse, like it's enjoying tormenting them. After a few minutes of pure horror, the beast apparently just gives up.

It veers off into a nearby field and that's that. Okay, so you know in horror movies how you're always yelling at the screen, like, why don't you call the cops and get them involved? Well, for once, that's exactly what these people do. Roger immediately heads to the local sheriff's office and the teens lay out everything that just happened, beat by beat, for an officer named Deputy Halstead. And Deputy Halstead, he actually believes them. Granted, it helps that Roger apparently shows him the giant claw marks on his car. Roger also tells Halstead that he spotted a large dead dog along the side of the road that fits Bandit's description. But when he turned back into town, the dog was gone. After taking down the stories, Deputy Halstead and his partner head over to the

TNT area to search for evidence, or at the very least, Merle Partridge's dog. But after scouring the vicinity, they return to their car empty-handed and maybe a little skeptical. They don't think the kids are necessarily lying to them, but they're thinking they might be overreacting. Maybe they just saw a giant bird. But when Halstead gets in his patrol car and turns on his radio, this ear-piercing screech comes over the dispatcher, something he's never heard before. I mean, it's not radio feedback or a technical malfunction. Whatever's making the sound is definitely alive. Usually it takes a lot to convince other people about anything supernatural you've seen or heard, right? The world is full of skeptics. But what's so charming about this

small town is the amount of trust they have in each other. Because after hearing Roger's story and the sound on his radio, Halstead and his team organize a press conference the next day. The cops brief the room on what's been reported, and at some point, a journalist points out that the creature's description sounds an awful lot like a popular character from the Batman comics. That's when everyone starts referring to it as Mothman. And after the press conference, more sightings start pouring in. That same day, Marcella Bennett is visiting a friend who lived by the igloos in the TNT area. She's walking back to her car with her child in her arms, about to leave,

and she sees this shadowy figure lurking nearby. According to her report, it might have been laying on the ground right in front of her car because she says she sees it slowly stand up. It's easily seven and a half feet tall, looming over the car's hood and staring at her with these glowing red eyes. At this point, it's probably the closest anyone has been to Mothman. By Marcella's account, she could almost reach out and touch it. Marcella becomes so terrified, so transfixed by this creature, that she drops her baby on the ground and she barely notices.

Luckily, in the end, Marcella and the baby both walk away rattled but unscathed, even though if Mothman wanted to hurt them, it easily could have. The following evening, a 17-year-old gives another report. While he was driving on the Ohio-West Virginia border right across the river from the TNT plant, Mothman chased his car for more than a mile before leaving him alone. The next day, two local firemen see the creature in the TNT area. Two days after that, a businessman says the Mothman landed on his own front lawn. Like the other witnesses, the guy says he looked into the creature's eyes and lost track of time for what could have been hours. Then the creature rose straight up from the ground

and hovered like a helicopter, barely using its wings to fly away. By November 24th, 10 days since the first sighting, Point Pleasant's making national news, and visitors start coming in waves. Journalists, television crews, cryptozoologists, and the generally curious all arrive wanting to catch a glimpse of Mothman. But Mothman's not some caged animal in a zoo that anyone can pay admission to gawk at. It's only seen when it wants to be seen. And some unsettling

visitors will go to any length to keep the story quiet. Coming up, Mothman's friends visit Point Pleasant. Now back to the story. On December 7th, 1966, John Keel travels from New York to Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The 36-year-old has been riveted by the news about Mothman. He's not certain, but he thinks there's gotta be more to this story than meets the eye, or rather, more than the news outlets have shared. His first stop is to visit Deputy Halstead, who's still in charge of the case. As far as I can tell, John basically walks right in, approaches the deputy, and asks him whether anyone had reported any other strange phenomena besides Mothman. And Halstead politely responds, nope, just the bird. That's enough.

But John clearly wants more information, so Halstead points him toward Mabel McDaniel's house. She's seen Mothman firsthand, and Halstead thinks she'd be open to discussing her experience, if he's that curious. When John arrives, he learns that Mabel's more than willing to talk. In fact, she calls up a bunch of other eyewitnesses. By sundown, the house basically turns into a mothman support group. Among those present are the Scarberries, the Millettes, and a local reporter named Mary Heyer. But the person who piques John's interest most is Mary's niece, 18-year-old Connie Carpenter, who has a case of pink eye. Now here's the thing. John Keel isn't just some reporter. He has a fascination with UFOs and he fancies himself a ufologist. The reason he's in Point

Pleasant is because the Mothman stories have a lot in common with reported alien encounters, like hypnosis, missing time, an overwhelming sense of doom. And he finds Connie so interesting because in his line of work, he's learned that UFOs emit these incredibly intense UV rays. And when strong enough, UV rays can cause inflammation of the eye, called photoconjunctivitis, aka nonk.a. non-bacterial pink eye. But Connie says she didn't get her pink eye after a UFO encounter. Not quite. She got it after a brush with Mothman.

One week earlier, Connie was driving home from church when she saw Mothman out and about. I mean, we're talking in broad daylight. It was just lurking on the side of the road, not doing much. Now, Connie's account is pretty typical. When Mothman locks eyes with her, she can't seem to pull herself away. But she says it felt like it was trying to tell her something. Unfortunately, she never got the message, just a nasty case of pink eye. But this story is weird enough that John wants to get to the bottom of it. He teams up with the journalist he met at Mabel's house,

Mary Heyer, and over the next few weeks, they collect dozens of eyewitness accounts that support John's theory. Whatever's happening in Point Pleasant is much bigger than Mothman. The same evening, Marcella Bennett ran into the creature and dropped her baby, she also saw a red light hovering in the sky, which she insisted wasn't an airplane. Another night, around 2 a.m., a young man reported seeing a giant circular disc near the Ohio River. Later that night, another man in Cheshire, Ohio, says he saw the same disc parked on the riverbank with tiny men walking around it. And his wife corroborated his story to reporters, adding that whatever it was, it wasn't a boat. With all this new information, John and Mary don't know what to believe. But they've lost a little trust in Deputy Halstead.

Like, it's clearly not just the bird. Especially when many of the people who saw these odd lights and vessels start to receive threats. One morning in January, this guy Tad Jones is driving near Dunbar, West Virginia. This is about a 50-minute drive from Point Pleasant. Around 9.05 a.m., he apparently sees this large object blocking the road ahead. At first, he figures it's just some construction, but then he gets closer. It's not some regular cement truck. It's a huge metal sphere hovering four feet above the ground.

He says there's a window on the craft, but before he can make out anything inside, it takes off into the heavens. Now, Tad obviously shares this story with the papers, but he quickly learns that going to the press might have been a mistake. The following morning, someone slips a note under his front door. Written in block letters, it reads, we know what you have seen, and we know that you have talked. You better keep your mouth shut. And it's not just Tad Jones. Mary Heyer gets her own unusual visitor at the local paper's office. As she tells it, she's working late one night writing a story at her desk when a four and a half foot tall man waltzes in the room. He has this bizarre bowl haircut that looks like a wig. He's also sporting a short sleeve shirt, even though it's January

in West Virginia. But the weirdest part is his speech. It's stilted, like he's using words for the first time. Out of the blue, the man launches into a story about how he hitchhiked from Michigan. And the more he talks, the closer he gets to Mary's face. She can't stop staring into his dark, deep-set eyes. They're hypnotic. When he finally breaks with Mary's gaze, he turns his attention to a ballpoint pen, of all things. He picks it up and starts examining it like he's never seen one before. Obviously, Mary wants this guy gone, so she's like, listen, just keep the pen, hoping that he'll be on his way. But instead of responding, he just lets out this high-pitched maniacal laugh and bolts out the front door with the pen. Now, everything about this interaction is unusual.

The laugh, the eyes, the clothes. I mean, he said he hitchhiked from Michigan, but he didn't even have any bags with him. And I'm pretty sure that they have pens in Michigan in 1967. Well, cut to a few months later, Mary spots the same man walking around downtown. Clearly, he wasn't just passing through. But the second she makes eye contact with him, a black car comes peeling around the corner, picks him up, and speeds off. When Mary tells the story to John Keel, he thinks it sounds an awful lot like the Men in Black. Now, if you're a regular listener, you might have heard me cover the Men in Black in an episode before. Some people believe they're government agents

trying to keep UFOs under wraps. Others say the men in black may be extraterrestrials themselves. Whoever they are, they make one thing clear to the residents of Point Pleasant. Don't cross them. One afternoon, a black Cadillac follows Linda Scarberry as she drives around town. It even follows her into a fast food drive-thru. Marcella Bennett has a similar experience, but in her case, the car nearly runs her off the road. Connie Carpenter, the one with pink eye, says she almost got kidnapped by a man in a black Buick. The stranger grabs her, tries to pull her into his car, and rips her sleeve in the process. Connie gets away, but the next day she allegedly finds a note under her door that reads, be careful girl, I can get you yet. So not only are people worrying about a giant flying bird man,

now they're also worried about UFOs and hitmen. This goes on for another few months until May, when all of the unusual activity suddenly stops and Point Pleasant goes quiet. Almost too quiet. It's almost seven months before Mothman returns. When he finally comes back in November, he's only actually spotted once or twice, but he brings a new twist along with him. Some of the residents of Point Pleasant start having these terrifying nightmares that almost feel like visions. Mary Heyer is one of them. Like most dreams, what Mary sees isn't totally clear. The pieces don't exactly fit together. But a few details about the dream stick with her. She sees water, floating Christmas presents, and people dying.

Another local has a dream about people drowning in the Ohio River. And about a month later, all of these horrifying nightmares come to life. Coming up, tragedy strikes in Point Pleasant. Now back to the story. On December 15th, 1967, exactly 13 months after Mothman made its first appearance, Mary Heyer parks her car on Main Street in downtown Point Pleasant. The traffic's as bad as she's ever seen, mostly because the light that regulates the traffic onto the Silver Bridge is down.

But it's also rush hour, and people are out Christmas shopping. So Mary decides she's going to run an errand at the drugstore as she waits for traffic to die down. While she's shopping, she hears what sounds like a sonic boom outside. The lights in the store begin to flicker. She runs outside and Main Street has broken out into total pandemonium. People are getting out of their cars, screaming and crying. Some are frozen in place in complete shock. The silver bridge has collapsed. One of the eye bars supporting it snapped. The entire structure toppled into the freezing Ohio River piece by piece, and it took some 50 cars down with it. Mary watches in

horror as the headlights sink deeper into the river. People are struggling to swim. Wrapped presents bob in the water around them, and Mary realizes her dream just came to life. In the end, 46 people lost their lives, two of whom are never found. Their bodies are still lying somewhere at the bottom of the river. Point Pleasant tries their best to mourn, but how can they really? This isn't the kind of thing that you just get over. And the extra strange part is, only one week after the tragedy, Mary reportedly gets some more visitors at her paper's office. Two short men in black overcoats. After everything the town just went through, they want to talk about UFOs. Mary's pretty gobsmacked.

I mean, at this point, UFOs are the furthest thing from anyone's mind. But she's honest. She says, we have had quite a few sightings here. Then one of the men snaps at her and says, what would you do if someone ordered you to stop writing about flying saucers? To which Mary replies, quote, I tell them to go to hell. Which like, good for her. But the best part is, it actually seems to work. The second she turns her back, the men disappear, seemingly into thin air. And that's it. It's over.

No more strange lights. No more weird visitors. No more Mothman. It's like after the bridge collapsed, Mothman's work was done. It's been over 50 years since Mothman first appeared in Point Pleasant, and no one's any closer to learning the truth about where it came from or what it was. But there's a number of pretty wild theories. One of the most popular is that Mothman wasn't a birdman, but a normal run-of-the-mill bird. More specifically,

a sandhill crane. Now, sandhill cranes do have seven-foot wingspans and reddish feathers around their eyes. And in 1979, a group of fishermen discovered leftover chemicals from the TNT area seeping into nearby water. So some people think that a sandhill crane could have drank some of the water and developed some odd physical mutations that made it appear more monstrous. Although I don't know about you, but I don't know what accident causes a bird to be able to hypnotize people or hover off the ground like a helicopter. Which is why others say that Mothman might have been more deliberate, as in maybe the TNT plant didn't make munitions like the official records say. Maybe they were doing some other kind of military experiment, something with chemicals or nuclear waste, who knows, and Mothman was a product of it.

Of course, skeptics assume Mothman must have been a hoax, carefully crafted by a dedicated prankster. Someone with an elaborate costume and a 1960s jetpack that can go 100 miles an hour? I don't know. But the thing is, Mothman hasn't only been seen in West Virginia. Yeah, Mothman has reportedly been spotted all over the globe. And here's the thing, each time it's spotted right before a devastating tragedy. In April 1986, Mothman apparently popped up in Pripyat, Ukraine, just before the Chernobyl disaster. In September 2001, Mothman was spotted in New York City, days before the 9-11 attacks. In April 2009, it was reportedly seen in Chihuahua, Mexico, just before the swine flu outbreak. Could this timing all be coincidence? Maybe. But it almost seems like the Mothman, whatever it is, isn't the monster we need to fear.

It's an omen of dangers that lie ahead. That feeling of dread and fear that comes along with the Mothman sightings is there for a reason. In each of the cases, there is something coming to be afraid of. Maybe Mothman is just trying to warn us before it's too late. So if you come across a pair of glowing red eyes in the middle of the night, don't be so quick to write it off as an urban legend. Listen to your gut. It could save your life. Thanks for listening. I'll be back next week with another episode.

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