Blue Banana Interview with Author and Musician Forrest Lonefight

From the underground worlds of horror fiction, Native storytelling, heavy music, and working-class Americana comes author Forrest Lonefight - a writer whose voice feels as raw and unfiltered as the Iowa backroads and construction sites that shape his stories. Known for his latest novel The Pipelayer, Lonefight blends blue-collar realism with dread, addiction, identity, and the strange shadows that linger beneath everyday life. His work doesn’t feel manufactured or polished for mainstream audiences; it feels lived in. Weathered. Real.

What makes Lonefight especially compelling is the way he merges Indigenous perspectives, Midwestern grit, underground music culture, and psychological horror into something uniquely his own. There’s a heaviness to his writing that recalls late-night highway drives, rusted machinery, dive bars, isolation, and the feeling that something ancient might still be buried beneath the surface of America. Beyond literature, Lonefight is also a musician and artist, bringing the same intensity and atmosphere into his creative work. 

Forrest Lonefight is so much more than a musician and an author. 

As the guitar player for the Des Moines band The Maw, Forrest opened my eyes to a hungry and vibrant music scene in Central Iowa. He was a huge inspiration for my previous blog, Bigfoot Diaries (BFD), a project that predominately covered music. I have told friends that Forrest is the greatest guitar player that I've ever seen live. I meant it 100%. I still do. 

Blue Banana was honored to speak with Forrest about his books, Iowa, horror, Native identity, music, creative inspiration, and the darker corners of storytelling that continue to pull readers deeper into his world.

Growing up Meskwaki in lowa, were there stories, beliefs, or legends you heard as a kid that stayed with you long after childhood?

My grandma was a great storyteller. She had a way of telling stories. One story she told was of a gambler who would gamble with a dead man. That zombie creature would rise in the middle of the night to gamble with him, lose one of his valuable burial adornments for two nights in a row, then on the third night, the whole cemetery of zombies were waiting for the gambler. They chased him back to his village and tore his family to shreds. That was a cautionary tale. Respect the dead, which was always a customary thing growing up on the Meskwaki Settlement.

How does Meskwaki tradition shape the way you think about creativity, inspiration, or artistic responsibility?

There was a lot of room to play on the Settlement. I was living the real life Zelda. Exploring, finding secret grottos in the woods and pretend-fighting with Octorocks and Leevers in the woods. That’s probably were my imagination bloomed, before anything else. Meskwaki tradition had nothing to do with my inspiration per se. It was a patriarchal society full of rules. I was excluded for the most part and got bullied a lot. My family was ostracized for my grandparent’s Christian beliefs; that’s something I would find out later in life. I’ve always wondered why most Meskwakis never liked me! (Haha!)

I did admire the way that the Meskwaki were a hidden society away from mainstream Iowa. So, that fact opened my eyes to how our country was being run. I was able to see and navigate the complexities of America’s problems and saw the gray areas in the middle of the Reagan’s “Moral Majority” regime days.

Are there certain landscapes in Iowa that still feel spiritually charged to you - places that seem to carry stories?

The hills. The bluffs. Along the river valley. I included a story in my book that takes place along a beaver dam that runs along the Iowa River. I heard stories that a lot of people were buried down there. You would hear different things about that area over the years. But who knows? It is a legitimately dangerous place and I do recall a death of a man in the 2000’s. The legends grow over time.

Is there a difference between the stories told in your books and the stories you tell through guitar?

Well, my last book, Life Belongs to the Loud, was a direct correlated work. I melded those two things together to make a pretty good story. Epic. If I die tomorrow, that’s my testament to music. They are both different modes of expression. Most times they are better left to their own designs, but one can be ambitious and promiscuous just as long as it’s killer in the end!

What do books allow you to express that music can’t - and vice versa?

I was a writer first. At 7 years old, it came to me first. You can make the most mundane situation in the world and make it into something like a Kafka and Dostoevsky novel. Music is much more ethereal. Or I’ll say it like this; Writing is corporeal, music is spiritual. In my Libra mind, one needs a balance of both in order to achieve the great work of life.

Do you think modern audiences misunderstand Indigenous folklore by treating it like fantasy rather than lived belief?

Every culture has their own stories. What’s cool is that many tribes share the same ones. The more Natives I meet, the more I see the things we have in common. Ojibwe, Potawatomi, Meskwaki, even Lakota (our supposed mortal enemies haha) have the same words and culture. Every culture has merit in the human experience, no matter who has the biggest gun.

The show "Reservation Dogs" opened a lot of eyes in the mainstream. It showed that Natives weren’t all just downtrodden tragic apparitions of society. Natives love to laugh and yes, make fun of each other too.

Are there myths or spirits from Meskwaki lore that deserve wider recognition outside Indigenous communities?

Meskwaki got bigfoot! Haha!

The Deer Lady was one we heard growing up. There’s a lot of representation of that now. Stephen Graham Jones did the most brutal Deer Lady in his book, "The Only Good Indians". Reservation Dogs did, probably the sexiest, Deer Lady on their show. So those stories are getting their run in the mainstream now, I would urge you to check those out.

There’s a scourge of right wing videos on YouTube trying to justify their points of view using Native Americans, which isn’t cool; saying that there were prophetic Hopi paintings in caves showing trump and musk wearing red hats as saviors. That BS is something we always gotta be cognizant of and filter out.

There is also a segment of Natives who would rather not have those stories told to the outside world. I’ve already gotten flack for sharing my stories by that segment, but what can a writer do but write his truth?

What does “home” mean to you now: Iowa, Minneapolis, the Meskwaki Nation, or something less physical?

I feel at home wherever I lay my head down. Attending the Des Moines Book Festival was like coming home.

Not so much the Meskwaki Settlement. They’ve been cracking down on us "Descendants / Unenrolled Members" out there. Remember when I told you I wasn’t welcome out there and got bullied growing up? It has really come to a head now. Greed has a lot to do with that, they gotta dis-enroll us and kick us out of the Settlement so they can have all that casino, cigarette, and THC money all to themselves.

There’s a movement brewing now that’s tackling that very issue of tribes dis-enrolling and banishing descendants. The documentary film, "You’re No Indian" is shining a much-needed light on that problem. [The problem] It’s basically another form of genocide.

What do you listen to when you write? 

I can't do music when I write, though I do listen to ambient soundscapes to create atmosphere. Ossa Coronata was my go-to band for my latest project; their soundscapes really capture the eerie ghostly church-in-the-woods vibe. I love them!

One time you told me about a gal that you knew who was a strong believer in Shadow People. One night at your house "something" knocked over a fan. Can you tell me about that? What do you associate that to?

There's a new Testament song called, "Shadow People" that totally whisked me back to that time. I believe some people can see things that most people aren't conditioned to see; much like children who can see things that adults can't. Perhaps it may have been a past trauma she experienced, but she claimed that she was cursed. I have no explanation, that incident was an anomaly. She is no longer a part of my life so I don't know if she still sees the Shadow People. She's definitely not alone in seeing them. I included a bit of that in my last novel in a brief, disturbing scene.

Actually, I think my guitar playing buddy Jas Spargur can see them - or ghosts, one of the two.

Do characters in your books sometimes reflect real people you've met in your life?

Oh god yes! Haha! My last book was 90% Autofiction with my life in my band Inhale the Ellipses. I just had a dream last night about the "Rick" character and myself beginning to write songs again for a new project. The old feelings came back and I wasn't so sure it was a good idea! Haha!

The newest book, The Pipelayer has a lot of characters that came from real life, since it spawned from my time working in that field. Inspiration comes from the people you know.

Tell us what The Pipelayer is about and what inspired you to write it.

Ah well, it is about Gaston Johnson, a Native American Pipelayer from Des Moines who is a descendant of the Fox Tribe in Te Ma, Iowa. The company he works for, Price Plumbing, has a job on the Fox Tribal Settlement: a place he never felt accepted. Circumstances and tragedies lead to him to discovering something truly f-ed up while digging underground.

The story switches back-and-forth between the present and 1989. So there some flashbacks that have some of my earliest memories in life. 1989 was a pivotal year for me and I wanted to pay tribute to that time. I had a great time writing it. Also, I should point out that the Fox Tribe is a pseudonym for Meskwaki. It worked for the story, I have some Meskwaki and Sauk words in there and I thought it be classier to protect the names of the innocent and not-so-innocent. Haha!

Now Playing: Percolator Stomp by the Apemen

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Bigfoot lives near West Bend

 

- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigates it. -

Bigfoot lives near West Bend

But the costume is safely hidden from vigilante guns

By ART CULLEN

It was a dark, if not stormy, late July night 35 years ago when a nine-year-old girl from Ottosen in Kossuth County spotted a “short, hairy, ape-like animal with fangs and deep-set eyes” that stood in shadows a few inches away and growled.

Three nights later, the girl’s 11-year-old sister saw the same creature walking on Main Street in the village just east of West Bend on the Humboldt County line.

And in early August there were even more sightings of a short version — maybe five feet tall — of Sasquatch making grunting, squealing and whining noises.

By then the world’s media had swooped in on Ottosen. It already was a big story in Iowa.

“What she saw that night may have been Bigfoot, the beast rumored since July to be responsible for eerie night screams, broken fences, stampeded cattle, chewed-up cats, mangled rabbits and the death of a dog whose neck had been broken while it was chained near the home of its master. It — named or nameless, male or female or something biologically unknown — has been seen since. So have the terror and uncertainty,” wrote Steve Klaus in The Des Moines Register of the day.

Bigfoot was seen near Renwick in Humboldt County. It was seen near Boone and Atlantic and even in the dense woods of northeast Iowa.

“It was the biggest scam in the history of Iowa,” Jerome Kohlhaas, 62, told me at the bar of the Algona Country Club on Friday.

Kohlhaas knows who it was. The grin says it all.

And it was not a gorilla from the mists of the Cascade Mountains of the Pacific Northwest.

It was a farmboy from St. Joe, Iowa, a hamlet on Hwy. 169 halfway between Algona and Humboldt.

The costume is around somewhere, but nobody is saying where.

Mr. Bigfoot hung up the hair once the guns came out. Defenders of home and hearth took to the gravel roads along the East and West Forks of the Upper Des Moines River with shotguns in search of their trophy.

“When they started shooting, the outfit disappeared,” said Kohlhaas, a cropdusting pilot who figures he has survived 35 lives. He has rolled so many cars, crashed so many planes and otherwise engaged in a life of hail and harrow that it makes him wonder why others die and he prevails.

“I guess there’s a reason I’m still here,” he said.

The bartender is putting six-packs of bottled beer into the cooler. Someone bids for a drink. The bartender leaves the sixers on the bar and Kohlhaas tries to hand them to women he knows. He is a merry prankster 24/7.

He knows nothing of mangled cats or strangled dogs. He pretty much knows Bigfoot’s range around Ottosen. He does not know how I might contact Bigfoot.

A woman from New York once approached him about writing a book. Kohlhaas said he didn’t know what she was talking about. Then he stops:

“Hey, everybody! There’s food in the other room! Let’s go get it!” he proclaims to the crowd at the bar.

Everyone falls in line behind the Pied Piper.

My old college chum Walter Bradley from Algona has a pretty good idea who Bigfoot was. He about cracks a rib laughing over the phone.

“Somebody said they saw Bigfoot walking down a road when a truck drove by hauling a wagon. Bigfoot flew into the wagon at full speed,” Bradley recalled.

He is an old buddy of Kohlhaas. But he ain’t spilling much, other than to say that Bigfoot was not the missing link. Bigfoot is short and balding with a bit of a beer belly.

Most people knew the gig was up when a girl riding her bike in Ottosen saw Bigfoot and screamed. Parents came out of the house. They searched near a shed. Someone heard a man’s voice say, “Anybody know what time it is?”

Nobody had a notion where the voice came from. Sasquatch speaks! The kids all scattered for safety.

And he was never heard from again.

But he is still out there. Eternally a teenager. A wise-guy smile etched on his lips at all times. And alive to tell about it.

Someday someone will out him. Maybe Jerome Kohlhaas will be the one with the courage to lift the veil of hair and rubber.

But probably not, so long as people still chase the legend. There’s even a TV show about Bigfoot sightings. Kohlhaas is one to savor a scam over letting it just end so cleanly. He just might like a TV cameo.

Storm Lake Times Pilot - February 25, 2014 

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Iowa's 'Big Foot' - the 'Canton Creep'

- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigates it. -

Iowa's 'Big Foot' - the 'Canton Creep' 

Hawkeye hoorahs!

Those reports of an elusive nocturnal creature seen lumbering around northwest Iowa are no mystery to a West Liberty Index columnist. One Don Ehl claims the beast, dubbed “Big Foot,” is none other than the “Canton Creep.”

Ehl says a decade ago a night creature strikingly similar to this year’s ape-imposter was seen roaming around Canton administering doses of terror in that timber-camouflaged community along the Maquoketa River.

So, reasons Ehl, the Creep — not to be upstaged by a born-again president, a thrice reincarnated heavyweight boxing champion, or the Hulk — has emerged for a second coming under the alias of “Big Foot.”

The writer recalled one memorable incident from the beast’s youthful days. A romantic young couple, out for an evening stroll, decided to explore the Maquoketa Caves. Inside a dark cavern, the boy lovingly grabbed for his girl’s hand.

Finding the palm cold and clammy, the boy slowly reached out with his other hand, groping for reassurance.

What he came up with, though, was a not-so-feminine cluster of hair — which prompted him to set a new record for the 100-meter dash in exiting the cave. In his haste he neglected one minor detail. Behind him was his girlfriend, left to fend for herself.

Oh, his girl later said she neither saw, heard, nor felt any evil lurking in the cave.

In perhaps one of the better ideas since ex-President Gerald Ford’s aborted Whip Inflation Now (WIN) program, Ehl concluded with the suggestion that West Liberty recruit “Big Foot” as a tourist attraction in order to beef up its economy.

Or, if that should fail, footnotes Ehl, the possibility of running “Foot” as a third party candidate for city council exists, bad press notwithstanding. 

Popular pits

That same edition of the Index dredged up a tidbit from 60 years ago, which offered a bargain that might be quite popular in 1978’s inflation wars.

In the midst of World War I, residents were asked to donate a variety of fruit pits and nutshells, all necessary ingredients in manufacturing charcoal to be used in gas masks.

Peaches were a much-in-demand treat in those days. That was because the pits could be substituted for money to gain Saturday afternoon admission to the town’s movies at Grand Theater.

A burning question

News from the Mapleton Press lends more cannon fodder to the tax revolt cavalry. Robert Lyon, in a recent column, called attention to a U.S. Department of Agriculture study that carried a price tag of $45,000. Its top-priority purpose, in the interest of national security: Determine how long it takes to cook breakfast.

If the USDA extended the research to lunch and dinner, it will cost a mere $160,000, Lyon added.

But he dug up the reason researchers required such a long time and long bucks to complete their task. It seems government whiz-kids were stymied by the burning question of how long it takes to cook a three-minute egg, Lyon writes.

— D. Vance Hawthorne

Don’t miss Hawkeye hoorahs! every Saturday and Sunday in your Des Moines Register.

Des Moines Register Nov. 5, 1978

More Weird Water: The Iowa Spring That Shouldn't Have Existed

In June of 1879, a man named George Satterlee struck something unexpected while searching for coal on land owned by N.T. Burroughs - an artesian well that would quickly gain a reputation as anything but ordinary. He stumbled onto something far stranger than black rock beneath the earth. What he found instead was water.

But not the kind you drink without thinking about it first.

This water did something. It had... powers.

At first, it was probably a curiosity. Someone dips a knife blade into the spring, pulls it back out… and suddenly it clings to metal. Nails. Needles. Small objects that should fall away instead stick, drawn in as if the water had given the blade a charge it shouldn’t possess.

Magnetized water. Even writing it feels wrong.

But the reports didn’t stop there.

Word spread that the water held “magnetic” properties. Locals claimed that leaving metal objects like nails or knives submerged for just ten minutes would magnetize them. Whether science or speculation, the phenomenon drew curiosity seekers and hopeful patients alike. 

Soon, the area transformed into a bustling health destination known as the Fountain House Sanitarium.

People started drinking the water, bathing, and immersing themselves in it. People who were experiencing chronic pain noticed that after sitting in the bath, pain seemed to withdraw from their joints and bones. It drew those with persistent aliments, including rheumatoid arthritis. Many believed it could treat conditions ranging from diabetes to addiction. And for those who came seeking relief, the water seemed to deliver.

Even when the water was bottled and carried away from its source, it didn’t lose whatever quality made it different. Whatever was in that spring wasn’t tied to the location alone. Even after being carried away from the spring, the water remained magnetized. 

For a brief window of time, it must have felt like they had found something rare. Maybe even something miraculous. And then, just as quietly as it appeared… it began to fade.

The resort never truly took hold. Interest waned. Whether it was skepticism, poor management, or something less tangible, the place didn’t prosper. The spring, once a source of fascination, slipped back into obscurity.

A city well was constructed nearby - practical, necessary, ordinary. But not long after, the spring dried up. Completely. As if whatever had been flowing beneath the surface had been disrupted… or diverted… or shut off entirely.

And that was it. No long-term studies. No preserved samples. No explanation. Just a strange pocket of time where water behaved in a way it shouldn’t, helped in ways it couldn’t, and then vanished without leaving anything behind but a story.

The original sanitarium is no longer present, but Magnetic Park continues to be a notable spot in Cherokee's local history, featuring a paved loop around a, perhaps, less-magnetic pond. The area is marked with historical information about the site's unique history.

Out of the Shadows: A Conversation with the Phantom AD

By day, he’s a substitute teacher keeping classrooms in line - but when the sun drops and nighttime's shadow prevails, he becomes something else entirely. Draped in a flowing cape, crowned with a wild afro, and channeling the spirit of late-night creature features, The Phantom emerges from the darkness as a solitary pulse of chaos. 

His sound - what he calls Ghoulish Rock N’ Roll - is a fever-dream fusion of surf riffs, garage grit, and rockabilly swagger, all soaked in the eerie glow of vintage horror. It’s not for Squares, man - It's a midnight transmission from the strange side of the dial, where bats swoop from the skies, monsters dance and bones rattle. 

He’s a musical anomaly who fell in love with rock ’n’ roll at an early age. Elvis Presley, The Big Bopper, and Jerry Lee Lewis formed the soundtrack of his childhood, shaping a sound he would never truly leave behind. Even as a teenager, when punk rock took hold, that foundation remained intact. Bands like Circle Jerks, T.S.O.L., and The Cramps helped define who he was becoming, while artists such as Screaming Lord Sutch and Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs added the final, distinctive touches to his musical identity.

From his website:

My name is Harley Isaac Rother, known to many as The Phantom. The day I was born, the hospital echoed with the defiant sound of Rock N’ Roll, - It’s been obsession ever since.

When I was in Kindergarten, every kid in the class was assigned to bring in a song to share. Drawn by the sinister laugh that starts the tune and the good time surf rock beat, I brought in Wipe Out by The Safaris. I assumed every kid would bring in something rockin’ and it would be a wild party. I was shocked when I was the only kid who brought in a Rock N’ Roll song tune. It was at the moment that I knew I was different.

He's bringing his legion of one to Des Moines on June 14. He is playing at The Haunt - a basement bar located at 500 Locust Street in the East Village. Only 65 tickets are available, and by today's standards, they are cheap. So act fast! This event is already half way sold out. You can purchase tickets here. If you live outside of Iowa, his tour schedule is posted above. We here at Blue Banana cannot emphasize enough the Bona-Fidelity of this show. 

I dusted off the Ouija Board, conjured the Phantom for a minute, and asked him a few questions. 

Who - or what - is Phantom AD?

I am The Phantom A.D. the purveyor of Ghoulish Rock ‘N’ Roll music. I release rock n roll music on LP, CD and streaming and tour the country. I’ll be doing shows in at least 40 different cities this year in the North, East, South and West. I’m my own booking agent, manager and record label. 100% independent!

Tell us about yourself. What drives you? What are your guilty pleasures? What celebrity was your high school crush? 

My real name is Harley Isaac Rother and I make music as The Phantom A.D. I always loved rock n roll like Little Richard, Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis and I didn't ever hear much of anyone playing that type of music in a way that felt exciting - so that’s been my mission - making high energy rock n roll but for today. If you come to my show you’ll see I don't do a single slow song and I’ll be drenched in sweat when I’m finished. And hopefully you will be too! The other aspect is to combine all that with a classic horror appeal. Like Bela Lugosi but with a guitar. 

Hey this is four questions in one! That's ok. My biggest guilty pleasure is probably collecting stuff. I like old toys, music and horror movie memorabilia. I also like competition reality shows like Beast Games and Squid Games Challenge.

Chyna (RIP!) is my celebrity crush. She was dangerous and sexy. The perfect combo. 

Tell me about a specific paranormal experience you've had. 

A fortune teller cast a spell on me which led me to be attacked by monsters and transform into The Phantom. It’s documented in my music video for Heeby Jeebies.

Monsters are often metaphors - fear, isolation, transformation. What do they represent to you?

To me they're just cool! Everyone loves animals and monsters are like extreme animals. Gorillas are cool but a giant gorilla is even cooler!

A lot of horror deals with fear - what’s something that genuinely unsettles you in real life?

Poverty and injustice. I’ve been blessed to travel a lot in the last few years and in every American city there's people sleeping on the street, ghettos and visible desperation. It doesn't have to be like that. In Japan and a lot of European countries those things don’t exist. I’m constantly donating to people’s Go Fund Me's because they have medical bills they can't pay for. Again that's a fixable issue that other countries don't have but we as a society choose to let people fend for themselves if they get sick and don't have insurance that covers it. ANYWAY

Your music, while rooted with the Safaris, and the Cramps, still  has that kitschy vibe to it, like "Monster's Holiday" by Buck Owens. Who would you say is the one band or performer that has influenced you the most? 

Sam The Sham and The Pharaohs! I loved Wooly Bully the first time I heard it and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. They have tons of great songs. Everything they did was fun from the name to the costumes to the music. Sam did the most with the least. He wasn't a highly skilled musician yet he created a totally unique and recognizable sound on his organ. You can hear that Wooly Bully beat on a lot of his songs like JuJu Hand, Ring Dang Doo and others. He also has a song called The Phantom that influenced me in an obvious way. 

There’s a line from Lux Interior: “I’m not a musician, I’m an entertainer.” Do you relate to that at all, or do you see Phantom AD as something different? 

I relate to the entertainer part because I think people find my live show entertaining and that's my goal. But I am also a musician. I’ve been playing guitar my whole life and it's important to me to be at top level musically. The Phantom A.D. is very guitar centric and I’m influenced by great guitar players ranging from Dick Dale to Django Rhineheart.

   Phantom AD says, "Monsters are like extreme animals!" 

If you could score a movie about any cryptid or monster, what would it be?

Bigfoot!

Similarly, What real-world legend or cryptid deserves a Phantom AD soundtrack?

Well there's a song on my new album called Even Sasquatch Wants to Rock which will be coming out in May. It's a true story about the time Sasquatch joined me on stage because he wanted to play ghoulish rock n roll. Satch is a killer guitar player!

I feel like I should ask about Screaming Jay Hawkins, but honestly man? I've got nothing. He's so damn good, though, right? 

Yeah, I love him. We have the same birthday, July 18th. He famously had 57 kids and I never met my biological father, so ya never know… 

You're playing in Des Moines on June 14. Those of us who are attending your show - what do we need to know? 

It's at an actual haunted house called The Haunt - or maybe it's a haunted bar? The only thing you need is to prepare to have a good time! That and you will need a ticket which I would recommend buying now at thephantomad.com/the-haunt . There's only room for 65 people and as of April 10th, 20 tickets have already sold and the show isn't until June 14 - so this will sell out! Get tickets now!

Now Playing: "Halloween 4" - We Are the Asteroid 

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Ape-Like 'Creature' Scaring Ottosen

- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigate it. -

Ape-like 'creature' scaring Ottosen

By Dave Brown

Original article in Des Moines Register

A shaggy, ape-like creature has scared the daylights out of some residents of the tiny Humboldt County community of Ottosen in the last week.

Sheriff Marvin Andersen said a group of men looked for the creature Monday night and Tuesday night. The only trace that has been found of it, he said, are foot-prints with three toes in front and one in back.

"What it is, I don't know," Andersen said Wednesday. "I don't know what to think."

He said several Ottosen residents have reported sighting the creature. It has been described as about five feet tall, with dark and shaggy fur, piercing, deep-set eyes, long arms and thick legs.

If it is a hoax, the sheriff said, the prankster could be in danger if he returned, because he believes some Ottosen residents are keeping guns ready.

"These people are mad enough so it would be pretty dangerous now to go up there and try to pull a trick," he said.

The creature was first spotted last Thursday night by Donette Hankins, her mother, Jan, said Wednesday.

Hankins said her nine-year-old "got a real good look at it" that night, and came in the house looking "like death warmed over."

Sunday night, her oldest daughter, Dawn, 11, was riding her bike after dark when she came face-to-face with the creature, her mother said.

"She came back in screaming. She was in hysterics," Hankins said.

She said she and a relative went outside to see what had scared the girl. The two adults saw something "staring out at us" from behind a vacant building.

"It looked like an ape," she said. "I'm convinced there's something here." Asked if it could have been a person in a costume, she said, "the face was too real. There was nothing artificial about it."

Monday, shortly after noon, three Ottosen boys, aged 10 to 12, also saw the creature, according to Mrs. Gary Masters. Masters was the first resident to report the sightings to the sheriff's office. She would not identify the three boys.

She said she called the sheriff "to see if anyone had lost a monkey."

The sheriff said he has checked to see whether any circus or carnival animals have been reported missing recently, and has contacted the 165 conservation commission for advice.

He said the three boys who saw the creature Monday reported it dropped down on all four legs when it an away from them.

The sheriff said some residents "afraid to go out at night."

Hankins said her oldest daughter "still wakes up at night" because the experience.

"If it is a hoax, we'd like to stop because it just isn't funny," she added.

Des Moines Tribune - August 2, 1978

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Bigfoot Phenomenon is Very Much Alive in Iowa

- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigate it. -

Bigfoot phenomenon is very much alive in Iowa

By STEVEN KLAUS / Map by STAN KLUENDER

The original article from the Des Moines Register

During the past three months Iowans have heard a lot about Bigfoot, the legendary, ape-like creature purported to roam the countryside at night in search of food.

Some of the stories were generated by Bigfoot sightings reported in July and September near the small town of Ottosen, where several Humboldt County residents said they either saw Bigfoot or heard strange screams in the night.

Many dismiss Bigfoot as a myth. Others, who believe there is a Bigfoot, Yeti or Sasquatch that occupies a place between man and ape, argue the creature lives only in the Northwest and could not possibly survive in the Midwest.

Nevertheless, the Bigfoot phenomenon — whether fact, fiction or hoax — is very much alive in Iowa.

Since last January, Bigfoot has been reported near at least 10 Iowa communities.

Deeds attributed to Bigfoot range from a pile of dead chickens found near the Mitchell County town of Riceville to the dark face that peered at a woman through the kitchen window of a farm home near Ottosen.

There is even one unsubstantiated report from a Sioux City research group that a man wounded a Bigfoot with a deer rifle in 1974 near Stone State Park, on the northwest edge of Sioux City.

In every case, authorities have been unable to establish conclusively that Bigfoot exists. Yet they have not completely accepted other explanations for the events.

Some law officers, like Humboldt County Sheriff Marvin Andersen, are just relieved when the Bigfoot phenomenon moves out of their area.

Andersen, who spent a good part of three months chasing down Bigfoot reports near Ottosen, said last week, “We haven’t had anything now for about three weeks.”

Andersen said he never was able to draw any conclusions from the reports. “I still feel like these people definitely saw something but I don’t know what,” he said.

That was also the opinion of Iowa Conservation Officer Bill Basler of Algona, who talked to some of the people involved with the Ottosen sightings.

“I believe, too, that these people are seeing something, but I don’t know yet just what it is,” Basler said.

Most of the Bigfoot incidents reported in Iowa during the past year have been investigated by members of the Bigfoot Information Center, a group of Bigfoot enthusiasts who joined together last summer under the direction of Kevin Cook, 25, of Des Moines.

The center currently has four members, including Cook, who are collecting data on each new sighting. Cook and his crew believe there are small groups of Bigfeet or Bigfeet traveling by night through the Midwest, generally following the Missouri and Mississippi River basins.

Since last winter, they have checked out Bigfoot reports near Moulton, Harvey, Oskaloosa, Chariton, Clarion, West Bend, Humboldt, Hardy and, of course, Ottosen.

Cook expects more sightings this winter. "Because of the snowfall people don’t want to set tracks, and there’s not the vegetation in the winter as in the spring and fall so the tracks are a lot more visible,” Cook said.

He also is betting that some reports will come from hunters and snowmobilers, especially in the heavily wooded regions of southern Iowa, where the Bigfoot phenomenon has flared up in the past.

Several Bigfoot reports were logged last winter in south-central Iowa, and a sighting was reported in the fall of 1975 near the Jefferson County town of Lockridge in southeast Iowa. At that time, at least three persons said they saw a large, ape-like creature in the Turkey Creek area.

The following is a summary of Bigfoot incidents that have been reported in Iowa since last January:

OSKALOOSA

Matt Ver Steeg of Knoxville, a member of the Bigfoot Information Center, checked a report around Jan. 1 that a woman who lives northeast of Oskaloosa near the Skunk River had seen a Bigfoot. Cook and others showed her the drawing of a heavy snowstorm. She described the creature as weighing 600 to 700 pounds and standing 8 to 10 feet tall. A few days later, another resident in that area heard unusual noises and found strange tracks in his yard.

HARVEY

Around Feb. 20 some residents of Harvey, a Marion County town near the Des Moines River, reported strange howls and tracks in the snow on the edge of town. Ver Steeg visited the area after a 14-inch snowstorm and found tracks that were 20 inches long, 9 inches wide and had a five-toed stride. He followed the tracks in a snowmobile for several miles. “It looked like the creature was moving cautiously the way the tracks were because of the zigzagging,” Ver Steeg said. Deputy Sheriff Dick Gilman said that after analyzing some hair on a fence, authorities concluded the creature was a cow. But Ver Steeg contends a cow could not have made those tracks and set such a pace.

PELLA

Around Feb. 25, Ver Steeg was summoned to the old Pella Bridge, which crosses the Des Moines River a few miles north of Harvey, to investigate a report that a 10- or 11-year-old boy had seen Bigfoot on the road near the bridge. The boy said the creature had stopped to look at him, then disappeared into the woods. Ver Steeg followed tracks into the woods but they filled in with new snow and it was impossible to make any kind of determination. Ver Steeg said the boy was frightened and would not leave the house for several days.

CHARITON

Throughout the year, Ver Steeg and Cook have received numerous reports of sightings and strange sounds in a section of Stephens State Forest a few miles northeast of Chariton, in Lucas County. The sightings have never been verified.

MOULTON

Two Moulton-Udell High School students reported seeing a creature about 10:30 p.m. Aug. 28 on a dirt road in a remote area south of Moulton known as Dean Bottoms. They said it was 7 to 8 feet tall and weighed about 400 pounds. The next day their science teacher accompanied them to the area, where he found a footprint about 14 inches long with three toe impressions, some corn that had been stripped clean down to the cob, and an area where some brush had been trampled. Gary Hagler of Des Moines, a member of the Bigfoot center, visited the area and confirmed those findings.

OTTOSEN

In all, nearly a dozen persons reported seeing a Bigfoot-like creature in the Ottosen area from July through the middle of September. This case received the most publicity of any sighting. There were reports that Bigfoot was seen in town on at least three occasions and in the countryside twice. Farmers in the area also said they were awakened at night by strange sounds made by something that left farm dogs terrified. There were reports of mutilated animals, strange footprints and stampeding cattle.

WEST BEND

During the period of the Ottosen sightings, a fisherman found about two dozen footprints along a bridge over the west branch of the Des Moines River near West Bend. Plaster casts were made of the tracks, which were 16 inches long and 6 inches wide.

HUMBOLDT

In mid-September, a family that lives about three miles northeast of Humboldt reported that something released strange howls while moving through a ravine near their home at midnight. The creature followed the woods to within a few yards of the home. The sound — a hoarse howl — was so loud that Sheriff Andersen could hear it through the telephone when the family called him. Andersen visited the area the next morning and found places where brush had been trampled but no tracks.

HARDY

A few days later, a 16-year-old boy told authorities he saw a Bigfoot-like creature near dike in a Beanfield on a farm near the Humboldt County town of Hardy. He said he scared the creature off by honking the horn and flashing the lights of a pickup. The next day, Sheriff Andersen visited the field and found footprints that looked odd. Ken Taylor of Iowa Falls, another member of the Bigfoot center, looked into that report but was not convinced it was a legitimate sighting.

CLARION

In early October, a Clarion woman told police that a dark image had peered through her kitchen window about 10:30 one night. The window, at the rear of the house, is seven feet off the ground. The next afternoon, police officers obtained a plaster cast of one unusual track in the backyard. Clarion is the seat of Wright County, which is adjacent to Humboldt County, where the Ottosen sighting occurred. The Bigfoot center’s Hagler and Taylor looked into the sighting and determined someone could have been perpetrating a hoax. They reported that the impressions they found were of right feet only.

Des Moines Sunday Register — November 12, 1978

The Thing in the Hallway: A Late-Night Encounter at the Newton HIgh School

It was the kind of night custodians know well - quiet, fluorescent-lit, and empty in a way that makes every sound feel louder than it should be. On Monday, March 30th, 2026, at around 11:00 PM, Larry was doing what he had done countless times before - cleaning bathrooms in a quiet wing of the high school in Newton, Iowa. 

The building wasn’t dark, every light was on. Nothing should have been hiding.

But something was.

When Larry stepped out into the hallway, he didn’t hear anything unusual. He didn’t feel a chill or sense a presence. But he saw it.

A black, humanoid figure drifting silently down the corridor.

It wasn’t walking or running. It was floating. It moved with a steady, unnatural glide - hovering just above the floor. 

Larry stood frozen, watching as the shape passed through the artificial glow of the hallway lights. It was completely black, darker than the shadows around it, almost as if it were absorbing the light instead of reflecting it. 

The only part of it that wasn't black, was the face, which Larry described as being gray. He didn't see eyes or a mouth, but says the being did seem to have a long nose. "It also could have been the angle I was seeing it from," Larry told me. "It was hard to focus in on it. It was almost as if it was blurry."

The figure was human-sized, and appeared to be wearing tattered clothing that hung loosely, frayed at the edges. For a moment, Larry thought of feathers. Not clean, soft  ones - but ragged, broken feathers, like something that had been worn down over time. 

On it's head sat what Larry later described as a round-topped, wide-brimmed hat. "It resembled the hats that the Amish wear," Larry would later say. 

But the strangest detail wasn’t the clothing. It was the posture and lack of obvious support.

The figure leaned forward, as if bracing against wind that wasn’t there, or maybe urging itself forward. But beneath it - nothing. No legs or anything else holding it up. It gave the unmistakable impression that it was riding something… like a witch astride a broomstick - except that in this case - there was no broomstick.

Larry watched as it drifted past him. It didn't disappear as Larry turned his gaze to it - as so many shadows do.  This "thing" allowed Larry to watch it for what is a paranormal eternity, 20 to 30 seconds. 

There was no sound, and no interaction. It didn't acknowledge Larry's presence. It just passed silently through the hall. Larry said that he didn't feel fear at this point, just wonder. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. 

Every custodian who works at the high school has their own ghost stories - the school definitely has it's share of haunts - but what Larry witnessed is next level. 

After it glided down a small stairway into a lower hallway,  it began to fade. Not instantly in a flash, like one second it's here, and then the next it's gone... but SLOWLY it dissolved into nothing. It broke apart into the air itself - like smoke evaporating out - until there was nothing left. No trace of the entity remained. Just empty hallway.

The hallway from which the entity appeared

To this day, Larry is struggling with what he saw. He's a religious man, and this experience has placed him on the edge of what he's always understood about God's natural world. "This wasn't natural," he told me. "I don't feel that this was one of God's creatures." 

In a brightly lit school hallway, in a building that should have held nothing but silence, something passed through, as if it belonged. It gave every indication that it had been there before; and it gave every implication that it knew where it was going. Natural or supernatural, it wasn't waiting for an invitation. It forced it's presence, and it wasn't worried about being witnessed. 

Larry finished his shift. 

The experience happened over a week ago but Larry says it remains on his mind constantly. 

Whatever he saw that night didn’t belong to the world we understand. It certainly didn’t need the lights to find its way through the dark. 

Or maybe, what Larry saw WAS the darkness.

Now Playing: "Shadows" by The Electric Prunes

Iowa Lore: The Legend of The Metz Mud Monster

There are places in Iowa that look ordinary in daylight - stretches of gravel road, quiet creeks, rustling trees bending with the wind. Places you could drive past a hundred times and never think twice about.

Metz Bridge is one of those places.

Located just southwest of the small farming community of Metz in Jasper County, the bridge crosses the South Skunk River among trees, ditches and cornfields. By day, it feels harmless. But once night falls, locals say the air changes. The silence deepens. And the stories begin.

For generations, people have claimed that something lurks beneath that bridge - something the locals call the Mud Monster - a figure tied to tragedy, rumor, and the uneasy feeling that certain places remember things long after people forget.

According to local legend, the story began with an accident many decades ago. Some versions claim a vehicle slid into the muddy creek during a storm and the body was never recovered. Others insist the tale was invented simply to keep teenagers from gathering there after dark. The story I remember hearing from high school was that the Mud Monster was actually the murderous father from the Baby House - a place a few miles north with haunted legends of its own. According to the tale, he murdered his entire family, including his infants, then fled to the river bottoms, where he disappeared into the mud and shadows, starting a new life hidden from the world. Either way, the legend took root: a restless presence lingering beneath the bridge, watching anyone who lingered too long. 

The town itself breathes eerily among the fields and railroad tracks. A  gothic cemetery sits on the hill overlooking the town almost as if to stand guard or, maybe more menacingly, to pose a warning. One tombstone is rumored to glow at night. People have reported that late at night the silhouettes of trees take on the shape of giant dragons as they're met with the brightness of headlights, giant maw agape, ready to devour the vehicle as it drives underneath.

Older residents rarely tell the story directly. Instead, they give warnings disguised as jokes. “Nothing good happens at Metz after midnight.”

The road leading to the Metz bridge narrows as corn closes in from both sides. Headlights stretch long shadows across the side rails of the bridge. The river below moves slowly, almost silently, carrying the smell of damp earth and algae. Many who visit describe the same sensation - not fear at first, but awareness. The unmistakable feeling of being watched. 

Or worse. 

One Newton lady named S.K., tells a story of when she was in high school during the '60s. She and her boyfriend drove out to the bridge to get away from society for awhile. She said that just as things were beginning to get steamy in the back seat, something lifted up the back end of the car and dropped it. She said it only took a couple seconds for her boyfriend to get himself together, start the car and get the hell out of there. 

In the fall of 2014, a Colfax resident named Larry visited the bridge, hoping to encounter something out of the ordinary. Alone in the dark, he called into the night, asking for a sign. Moments later, faint movement stirred at the far end of the bridge -followed by a sudden splash below. When he looked down, the water was perfectly still. He walked away uncertain, wondering if he had brushed against the supernatural or simply disturbed the silence of a place too quiet for comfort.

But others tell stories far harder to dismiss.

A woman named Dorothy recalls walking on the gravel road late one night near the Drive-In (3.5 miles north of Metz). She described seeing something standing motionless at the top of a hill overlooking the road. At first she assumed it was a tree or a trick of shadow -  until it moved.

She later said the figure appeared impossibly tall, towering above anything natural nearby. "It had to be 12 foot tall," she said.  When she turned back to look again, the shape bent downward and dropped onto all fours before sprinting into the darkness with unnatural speed. 

She ran without stopping, convinced something had nearly followed her home. "I know what I saw," she said. 

Stories like hers spread quietly and slowly through nearby towns - Newton, Colfax, Prairie City - rarely written down, mostly shared between friends or told during late-night drives when someone inevitably suggests visiting the bridge. The Metz bridge has long been a traditional Halloween night time stop. 

Over time, whatever it is that lurks in the area gained a name.

Some say it's a ghost. Others believe it is a feral hermit who lives along the creek. Some said it was a Bigfoot type creature that would leave footprints in the muddy fields or the snow. And others believe it is a murderous father who lives in the muddy river bottoms, hiding to escape going to prison. All of these things are the Metz Mud Monster - a figure half-human, covered in mud, emerging from beneath the structure to keep an eye on passing cars.

Descriptions vary, but certain details repeat again and again: Footsteps echoing when no one else is present, something splashing through the shallow river, unseen in the darkness. Or, a sudden silence where insects and frogs should be loudest. Or maybe most frighteningly, a tall silhouette standing where no one should be.

Folklore experts often note that rural bridges become natural centers for ghost stories because they cross boundaries - between towns, between safety and wilderness, between the familiar and the unknown. Across Iowa, many haunted legends are tied to bridges where tragedy or isolation left a lasting impression on local memory. 

Metz Bridge simply became Jasper County’s version of that ancient myth.

Metz itself is a nearly forgotten railroad community founded in the late 1800s, once home to stores, coal depots, and a small but active population before slowly fading into quiet rural life. Perhaps that fading history adds to the legend. Places that shrink often leave behind stories larger than the towns themselves.

Today, visitors still drive out to the bridge seeking proof. Most leave with nothing more than photographs and nervous laughter.

But a few describe hearing footsteps splashing beneath them while standing alone. Others claim to see movement just beyond the headlights - a shape that disappears the moment attention focuses on it.

No evidence has ever confirmed the Mud man’s existence. Even believers admit the stories may be exaggerations, misunderstandings, or fear amplified by darkness, isolation and the power of thought. And yet the legend survives.

Because legends do not need proof. They only need one person to feel watched… and another willing to listen.

If you visit Metz Bridge after sunset, you will likely find nothing unusual. The creek will flow quietly. The wind will move through the trees. The night will feel like any other Iowa night. But stand there long enough - long enough for the sounds of civilization to fade - and you may notice something else.

A stillness. A pause in the world around you.

And the uneasy thought that someone, or something, is standing just below the bridge… waiting for you to leave. 

Iowa Lore: The 81-Foot Creature of the South Skunk

By all accounts, it should never have existed.

The year was 1884, and the rolling farmland near Oskaloosa, Iowa, slept beneath winter skies unaware that something ancient stirred beneath the muddy waters of the Skunk River. Farmers were worried about weather, crops, and markets - not monsters.

Yet before the year ended, hundreds of witnesses would claim they had seen a creature that belonged to the prehistoric age. Something enormous and hungry. 

James Wright was not a superstitious man. A practical farmer, he trusted fences, hard work, and the reliability of routine. Late in the year when his hogs began disappearing, he assumed thieves were responsible.

But thieves leave signs. These disappearances left none.

Ten hogs vanished in less than three weeks - animals weighing up to 400 pounds each. The heavy feed lot fence stood intact every morning. There were no broken rails and no footprints. There was no blood.

Most mysterious of all was the silence.

Wright’s bulldog, a fierce and loyal animal known to bark at strangers from half a mile away, never made a sound. Night after night, whatever came to the farm passed within yards of the dog without provoking even a growl. It was perhaps as if the canine sensed something a little higher on the food chain… and chose not to challenge it.

On December 4, armed with a rifle and determination, Wright hid beside the feed lot to confront the thief himself. The night stretched endlessly. Wind brushed the dead grass. Ice creaked along the riverbank. Hours passed with nothing but cold and doubt.

Near sunrise, Wright rose, convinced his presence had thwarted any activity. 

Then came the sound. A violent churning erupted from the Skunk River - water slapping against the banks as though something massive fought its way upward from the depths.

Wright turned, and there it was. By all accounts, it should never have existed.

The Lovecraftian creature crawled from the river like a nightmare given flesh. But 1884 was too early for HP Lovecraft. He wouldn't be born for six more years.

The creature's legs - three feet long and thick as tree trunks - lifted its enormous body onto land. Behind it trailed a tail so long it carved a groove in the mud. Steam rose from its wet hide in the morning air.

Without hesitation, the monster stepped over the fence as easily as a man stepping across a puddle. Its head lowered. Jaws opened. Inside gleamed teeth nearly a foot and a half long. A 300-pound hog disappeared between those teeth in seconds. No struggle and no sound. The beast turned and slid back into the river, vanishing beneath the opaque water as if swallowed by another world.

Wright fled for town, pale and shaking, carrying a story he expected nobody to believe. But they DID believe him. They believed he had seen something, at least.

Curiosity overcame fear. Within days, nearly 2,000 people gathered along the Skunk River. Farmers arrived with rifles. Families stood at a distance, whispering prayers. Some expected a hoax. Others feared judgment day.

The river remained still -  until it didn’t.

With explosive force, the water erupted. The monster surged onto land before the stunned crowd, jaws snapping around a nearby horse. The rider was pulled clear by desperate hands as the animal screamed, dragged helplessly toward the river. Chaos followed.

Gunfire cracked endlessly. Witnesses claimed fifty men fired nearly 10,000 rounds into the creature. Smoke filled the air. The monster writhed but refused to die.

Bullets appeared to be useless against it. Finally, someone shouted an order no one expected to hear on an Iowa farm:

“Bring the cannon!”

Loaded with railroad spikes and packed with powder, the cannon roared. The blast shook the river valley.

For a moment there was silence. Then came a sound witnesses would remember for the rest of their lives - a long, mournful wail rising from the water, neither animal nor human, but something terribly aware of its own death.

The river turned red.

Oxen were summoned and it took twelve to drag the body ashore. Measured from nose to tail, the creature stretched eighty-one feet. Its heart alone weighed eighty pounds. Its skin resembled that of a colossal reptile, thick as leather and ancient as dawn itself.

A physician brought in from Davenport examined the carcass carefully before addressing the crowd: “Gentlemen," he said, "this is no Cardiff Giant. It appears to belong to a species of gigantic lizard believed extinct thousands of years ago.”

For a brief moment, the impossible stood proven before human eyes. By all accounts, it should never have existed.

The South Skunk as it sits today near Oskaloosa, Iowa

Since that cold December morning of 1884, the evidence has vanished from history. There is no skeleton. No verified photographs. Though written about in the Oskaloosa Daily Herald, records faded into rumor and internet newspaper fragments. 

The monster that terrified south central Iowa slipped into legend as completely as it once slipped beneath the waters of the Skunk River. It's rarely discussed today, and most of the town folk in Oskaloosa aren't even aware of it. 

Was the Skunk River Monster a hoax born of frontier imagination? A misidentified animal exaggerated by fear? Was it a case of Yellow Journalism which was so prevalent during that time in history? It wasn't just written about in the Oskaloosa Daily Herald, the story was recounted in other Iowa newspapers as well, including the Earlham Gazzette - which is ironically notable since the town of Earlham sits nowhere near the Skunk River. 

Or maybe something ancient survived unnoticed in America’s waterways - a relic of a forgotten age. 

Even today, some locals claim the river carries an uneasy silence at dawn. And sometimes, the water churns without wind. Occasionally a farmer will report that a cow or a hog has mysteriously disappeared.

The river revealed it once. There is no promise it won’t give it up again.