Sasquatch Chronicles

A listener writes “I grew up in Missouri, or missourah as we say, in my youth, I ran with a pretty rough crowd, raced cars,(picture trucker caps, long hair, black t shirts, skynyrd cranking and jack daniels in the freezer). Anyway, we used to go down to the Lake if the Ozarks at my friend Matt’s cabin the Osage Beach/Branson area when it was nothing but filling stations and live bait stores, early 80s. During the weekends it was busy, kinda a red neck Hamptons. Dead during the week. One week in late August my friend Matt invited a bunch of us to hunt/fish/party for a couple of days mid week when nobody is there. We got a late start as usual, I remember stopping for gas, and the crusty old man who pumped it told us to watch out for those guys, he nodded at a couple of guys in a pickup with about 200# yeast and corn feed and copper line, ie moonshiners pulling out in a beat up Chevy truck (common in the Ozarks). “Don’t let them boys or the boogers get ya”. He was referring to the recent MoMo sightings in the ar