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Or would you fight back to your last breath?

Ever have such an experience?

I did, in the summer of 1973. It was near my 17'th birthday, one side or the other. I do not remember which.

I was the shortest male and probably the lightest in my graduating class a year later. That summer, I could have easily passed for 13.

We lived at the end of County Roads. Our 500 acres of privately owned and leased property were surrounded on three sides by BLM. That BLM was our back yard and play ground with boundary roads from 5 miles to 1.5 miles in various directions.

Anyway, I was jogging and running around out there about 1 1/2 miles from the house searching for a wayward holstein heifer which was worth about $1600 in 1973 dollars.

Then an old blue small Buick four door sedan with a sun faded hood came down out of the BLM on the two track. Which, in itself was not out of the ordinary. Lots of people used those hills to target shoot, or hunt rabbits, or whatever.

But this car came to an abrupt stop about fifteen yards from me and a young adult male (about thirty) bailed out of the car along with five adolescent males. The man stood near the car and began speaking to me while the juveniles formed a circle around me about thirty yards in diameter. The boys looked to be of ages 11 or 12 up to 17 or 18.

The man demanded to know what I was doing out there. He claimed there were no farms around that I could have come from. Then he stated that I matched the description of some escapee from a mental asylum and demanded I get into the car.

While carrying on this discussion, I was slowly backing away from the man. I shoved a fist deeply into my pocket as if I were clutching a knife. But I did not even have a tiny pocket knife.

Finally I backed even with the circumference of their circle. I thought the boys would charge me, but they did not. Perhaps they were uncertain whether I was actually clutching a knife.

I continued backing away for another ten yards, then turned and walked until I could put a sagebrush between me and the adult speaker. Then I ran for my life towards the thickest of the sagebrush which was coincidentally on the steepest of terrain between me and the safety of home.

Just as I started running, I heard the man yelling "Get him! GET him!" I was the slowest sprinter in my class at school. But I had the endurance of a cross country runner and about a thirty yard head start.

Like I said, this was my back yard and play ground. While other boys were playing sports or chasing girls, I was out on these hills riding my horse, shooting rabbits, hunting pheasant or coyotes. I knew the location of every sage brush and badger mound. I also had the advantage of silence while my pursuers were quite vocal shouting back and forth.

I hid under the sagebrush and observed where all the boys were while the man circled the ridgeline two track in his car trying to spot me.

I was able to move about 1/2 mile under cover of the sagebrush. But then I had a 300 yd dash uphill with no cover to the ridgeline and two track, then 1/4 mile more open ground to the canal behind our house.

I waited until the car was back on the opposite ridgeline behind me, knowing I could make the 300 yds before he could intercept me from there. Then I would have to depend on rough terrain to keep him from following downhill toward the house.

I hit the open ground headed up hill, and all Hell broke loose. One of the boys spotted me and started screaming for pursuit. I could see them scattered in the brush 50 to 100 yds behind me. But I had been taking it easy in the sage brush and they had been running pell mell searching. They were out of breath. I was fresh. But there was that Buick, with about two miles of two track to make the circle back to me, and he was coming in a cloud of dust.

I made the ridge line and headed down the other side in the steepest draw going in the direction of the house. I heard the shouts as the man stopped his car where I had crossed the two track. He gathered up the boys and got them into the vehicle. But no one pursued me down the East face of the hill.

I hit the house and told Dad what had happened. He grabbed his Rem 760 and a couple mags on the way out the door. A neighbor from up the road was visiting at the time. The three of us piled into our old Chevy pickup and headed around to where it all started. But it was a five mile drive around the county roads to get across the canal.

By the time we could get there, the car was gone along with all the occupants. All that was left was the Buick's tracks in the dirt,

The Sheriff Dept put out a bulletin. But whoever these guys were, they were only a couple miles from I 80. Then thirteen miles to the state line and Oregon, or five miles the other way to the next county and high traffic levels.

We never did find a clue as to their identity or reason for being there.

But I am quite convinced, had they got their hands upon me, I would be listed to this day as a mysterious disappearance.

It can't hurt to be well armed.
$1600 heifer in 73 ...
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...


Yeah he lost me there too.
That and the story doesn't match the title of the thread.
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...

He did not say that.
I can't say that I have ever been in that situation, but I assume the moral here is a parallel to the Arbery case?
Are you old enough to remember the outrageous price of milking stock in 1973. All of our springer heifers were sacrificed to the auction rather than added to the herd. Yes $1400 for a springer heifer was a typical auction price in those crazy days.
No. You will not catch me un-armed very often. AND I don't go looking for touble, I go out of my way to avoid it. By the same token I wasn't put here to be your victim.

Whats the old saying "You go looking for trouble, you're sure to find it".
I remember once I got chased by the Bumpus’ dogs
In High School.I was in my second year 6 guys jumped me and kicked my ass.I went and got some of my friends and we found them and put a pounding on them.Everything was good after that.No guns knives chains involved .Just fists.Not that way anymore.
Been treed by a bull once.
No, I'd rather be shot dead like Rberry.
What would Hampy Crapper do? Or Kellory?
Never been in that situation. But as a young country kid that also spent all my free time in the woods or creeks, I always called a knife if some sort. I remember being the happiest boy alive at about 8 or 9 yrs old when I got one of those survival knives with the compass, fishing line, saw cable etc... Only time I didn't have that thing with me was when I had to go to school. Barefoot in the snow and up hill both ways😁
JFC... can you imagine living with the OP? It has to be exhausting. A product of living on the same farm in Cow Town, ID his entire life with no real appreciable life experience.

Convinced covid death lays in wait around every corner and the klan is actively patrolling Georgia suburbs.
Originally Posted by slumlord
I remember once I got chased by the Bumpus’ dogs


sunzabishesbumpusses.....

Originally Posted by copperking81
JFC... can you imagine living with the OP? It has to be exhausting. A product of living on the same farm in Cow Town, ID his entire life with no real appreciable life experience.

Convinced covid death lays in wait around every corner and the klan is actively patrolling Georgia suburbs.


Give wabigoon some love too!!

😃👏🏻
Originally Posted by slumlord
What would Hampy Crapper do? Or Kellory?

Happy Copeland???
God would do some divine intervention of some sort and a M249 SAW with a 200 rd drum of 4 to 1 would appear in his hands.

Kellory ????
Bend over a sapling and rig up a jackknife trap.
Semi automatic stab em all in the neck reset mode all ninja like from his hidey hole with shoe lace control string...
Originally Posted by Idaho_Shooter
Or would you fight back to your last breath?

Ever have such an experience?

...

But I am quite convinced, had they got their hands upon me, I would be listed to this day as a mysterious disappearance.



Helluva story, I think many of us can look back on situations where we were thankful to walk (or run) away from.
$1600.00 heifer? Must have been stump broke!
Originally Posted by Fireball2
Been treed by a bull once.


Is that what you call it?

LOL
In my late teens, had a guy follow me and my buds home on our dirt bikes. He got out with a shotgun, accused us of cutting across his property (we may have inadvertently), informed us the cops were on their way and to stay put.

We didn't grab his shotgun, we didn't try and overtake him, we didn't do anything to escalate matters. Everyone was cool. Cops showed up, told him he was a dumbazz for pulling the shotgun and sent him on his way. Told us to stay off his property.
Originally Posted by copperking81
JFC... can you imagine living with the OP? It has to be exhausting. A product of living on the same farm in Cow Town, ID his entire life with no real appreciable life experience.

Convinced covid death lays in wait around every corner and the klan is actively patrolling Georgia suburbs.

So tell us about the time a bunch of strangers attempted to kidnap you.

I am not claiming it was especially traumatic. Not when compared to combat or such.

But there are those around who would deprive us of our liberty unjustly, and there is no way to know what they have in mind for you once you allow them to take control of your destiny.
Im like a lot of others here....I havent gone anywhere unarmed since I was 18

Been in a couple touchy situations but giving up my liberty or my arms never entered my mind.
Originally Posted by deflave
Originally Posted by Fireball2
Been treed by a bull once.


Is that what you call it?

LOL




Oh My. That's a big un.

Lol!
Originally Posted by ingwe
Im like a lot of others here....I havent gone anywhere unarmed since I was 18

Been in a couple touchy situations but giving up my liberty or my arms never entered my mind.

All in all these parts are pretty low risk. The OP was an aberration. But a young boy disappeared from his paper route at about that same time period in a town about twenty miles away. All they ever found was his bike and papers along the street.

As to going armed, I was fifty before I ever owned a handgun. It was a 7 1/2 inch SBH in 41 mag. Grpwing up, of six uncles and aunts and 24 cousins, one uncle owned a Colt Trooper revolver. But it was more of a conversation piece or grouse shooter than meant for self defense.

Finally a couple of my cousins bought a couple revolvers in the mid seventies.

Yes, I do own carry capable weapons today. But I very seldom take them out of the safe. As others have said, often trouble can be avoided if one does not go looking for it.
Originally Posted by ingwe
Im like a lot of others here....I havent gone anywhere unarmed since I was 18

Been in a couple touchy situations but giving up my liberty or my arms never entered my mind.


^^^This^^^
No, but im not a felon that trespasses either!
Originally Posted by Idaho_Shooter
Originally Posted by copperking81
JFC... can you imagine living with the OP? It has to be exhausting. A product of living on the same farm in Cow Town, ID his entire life with no real appreciable life experience.

Convinced covid death lays in wait around every corner and the klan is actively patrolling Georgia suburbs.

So tell us about the time a bunch of strangers attempted to kidnap you.

I am not claiming it was especially traumatic. Not when compared to combat or such.

But there are those around who would deprive us of our liberty unjustly, and there is no way to know what they have in mind for you once you allow them to take control of your destiny.



So what do you actually want to talk about... abduction now? That's not the question in the thread title. I gave an example of a time I surrendered my liberty to a non LEO gunman on the street. Dude had a gun, he told us to stay put until the police arrived, we did.
In a word ….NO.
Originally Posted by Colorado1135
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...


Yeah he lost me there too.
That and the story doesn't match the title of the thread.

In 73 dollars, reading cooperation.
No Roger. The reading comprehension was correct.

Minimum wage was $1.60.

There was a national shortage of milk production, and milking stock was ridiculously high.

We sold many springer heifers (pregnant, near term with first calf) that summer for $1400 plus. A couple of exceptional critters for about $1600. Heifers brought more than a three year old cow, as that cow could rightfully be considered to be your cull.

A few short years later milk was a glut on the market and you could hardly give cows away.

The cycles are astounding. Just a few years earlier, dairy farmers would hit bull calves in the head with a hammer. You would be lucky to even get a bid to pay for gas if you hauled them to the sale yard. Then in 72-73 people were driving to the farm begging to buy still wet, day old holstein bulls for $100 to $140. Yeah, a week or two week's wages on a gamble that you could even keep the little critter alive to weaning.

Dad was strongly encouraged to sell enough of the herd to eliminate all debt on the farm. He could have easily done so and we could have built the herd back debt free.

But no. he was sure there was no end to the boom. Ten years later he sold the entire herd for a few pennies on the dollar compared to 73.

Some of the neighboring farms did have heifers stolen from their corals when the prices were very high. None of the dairies around us branded their stock. Which made them easier to sell as stolen.
Originally Posted by slumlord
What would Hampy Crapper do? Or Kellory?



Kellery would’ve been setting punji traps and snares as he backed into his spider hole.
Originally Posted by Idaho_Shooter
Or would you fight back to your last breath?

Ever have such an experience?

I did, in the summer of 1973. It was near my 17'th birthday, one side or the other. I do not remember which.

I was the shortest male and probably the lightest in my graduating class a year later. That summer, I could have easily passed for 13.

We lived at the end of County Roads. Our 500 acres of privately owned and leased property were surrounded on three sides by BLM. That BLM was our back yard and play ground with boundary roads from 5 miles to 1.5 miles in various directions.

Anyway, I was jogging and running around out there about 1 1/2 miles from the house searching for a wayward holstein heifer which was worth about $1600 in 1973 dollars.

Then an old blue small Buick four door sedan with a sun faded hood came down out of the BLM on the two track. Which, in itself was not out of the ordinary. Lots of people used those hills to target shoot, or hunt rabbits, or whatever.

But this car came to an abrupt stop about fifteen yards from me and a young adult male (about thirty) bailed out of the car along with five adolescent males. The man stood near the car and began speaking to me while the juveniles formed a circle around me about thirty yards in diameter. The boys looked to be of ages 11 or 12 up to 17 or 18.

The man demanded to know what I was doing out there. He claimed there were no farms around that I could have come from. Then he stated that I matched the description of some escapee from a mental asylum and demanded I get into the car.

While carrying on this discussion, I was slowly backing away from the man. I shoved a fist deeply into my pocket as if I were clutching a knife. But I did not even have a tiny pocket knife.

Finally I backed even with the circumference of their circle. I thought the boys would charge me, but they did not. Perhaps they were uncertain whether I was actually clutching a knife.

I continued backing away for another ten yards, then turned and walked until I could put a sagebrush between me and the adult speaker. Then I ran for my life towards the thickest of the sagebrush which was coincidentally on the steepest of terrain between me and the safety of home.

Just as I started running, I heard the man yelling "Get him! GET him!" I was the slowest sprinter in my class at school. But I had the endurance of a cross country runner and about a thirty yard head start.

Like I said, this was my back yard and play ground. While other boys were playing sports or chasing girls, I was out on these hills riding my horse, shooting rabbits, hunting pheasant or coyotes. I knew the location of every sage brush and badger mound. I also had the advantage of silence while my pursuers were quite vocal shouting back and forth.

I hid under the sagebrush and observed where all the boys were while the man circled the ridgeline two track in his car trying to spot me.

I was able to move about 1/2 mile under cover of the sagebrush. But then I had a 300 yd dash uphill with no cover to the ridgeline and two track, then 1/4 mile more open ground to the canal behind our house.

I waited until the car was back on the opposite ridgeline behind me, knowing I could make the 300 yds before he could intercept me from there. Then I would have to depend on rough terrain to keep him from following downhill toward the house.

I hit the open ground headed up hill, and all Hell broke loose. One of the boys spotted me and started screaming for pursuit. I could see them scattered in the brush 50 to 100 yds behind me. But I had been taking it easy in the sage brush and they had been running pell mell searching. They were out of breath. I was fresh. But there was that Buick, with about two miles of two track to make the circle back to me, and he was coming in a cloud of dust.

I made the ridge line and headed down the other side in the steepest draw going in the direction of the house. I heard the shouts as the man stopped his car where I had crossed the two track. He gathered up the boys and got them into the vehicle. But no one pursued me down the East face of the hill.

I hit the house and told Dad what had happened. He grabbed his Rem 760 and a couple mags on the way out the door. A neighbor from up the road was visiting at the time. The three of us piled into our old Chevy pickup and headed around to where it all started. But it was a five mile drive around the county roads to get across the canal.

By the time we could get there, the car was gone along with all the occupants. All that was left was the Buick's tracks in the dirt,

The Sheriff Dept put out a bulletin. But whoever these guys were, they were only a couple miles from I 80. Then thirteen miles to the state line and Oregon, or five miles the other way to the next county and high traffic levels.

We never did find a clue as to their identity or reason for being there.

But I am quite convinced, had they got their hands upon me, I would be listed to this day as a mysterious disappearance.


OP has been into the eggnog early....
Stone cold sober. Every word is gospel.
I experienced my first race riot in the fall of ‘71. I listented to a Cuban expat there and knew who the bolshevik enemy was!


Cuba Libre!!!!
Originally Posted by Idaho_Shooter
We never did find a clue as to their identity or reason for being there.

But I am quite convinced, had they got their hands upon me, I would be listed to this day as a mysterious disappearance.



Damn.

I’m recalling two paperboy abductions back them, the belief was they were taken to be trafficked to homosexuals. Pure evil.

Makes you wonder why that guy and those boys had driven back into BLM land. Dumping a body?
Originally Posted by wabigoon
It can't hurt to be well armed.
It can't EVER hurt to be well-armed...
Originally Posted by Redneck
It can't EVER hurt to be well-armed...


Don't leave home w/o it........................

As to the OP's question; given this forum & the vast majority of it's clientele, that has to be one of the most dumbass, most jackass posts I've ever seen here & that's saying a lot.

Especially in today's climate.

MM
Originally Posted by Birdwatcher
Originally Posted by Idaho_Shooter
We never did find a clue as to their identity or reason for being there.

But I am quite convinced, had they got their hands upon me, I would be listed to this day as a mysterious disappearance.



Damn.

I’m recalling two paperboy abductions back them, the belief was they were taken to be trafficked to homosexuals. Pure evil.

Makes you wonder why that guy and those boys had driven back into BLM land. Dumping a body?

Were they delivering on bikes?
Originally Posted by 10at6
Originally Posted by Birdwatcher
Originally Posted by Idaho_Shooter
We never did find a clue as to their identity or reason for being there.

But I am quite convinced, had they got their hands upon me, I would be listed to this day as a mysterious disappearance.



Damn.

I’m recalling two paperboy abductions back them, the belief was they were taken to be trafficked to homosexuals. Pure evil.

Makes you wonder why that guy and those boys had driven back into BLM land. Dumping a body?

Were they delivering on bikes?


Yes, that was common back then, I had a paper route too, used my 10 speed Schwinn Varsity for the purpose.
Originally Posted by copperking81
JFC... can you imagine living with the OP? It has to be exhausting. A product of living on the same farm in Cow Town, ID his entire life with no real appreciable life experience.

Convinced covid death lays in wait around every corner and the klan is actively patrolling Georgia suburbs.

Yep, OP is FOS as usual.
Originally Posted by renegade50
Originally Posted by slumlord
What would Hampy Crapper do? Or Kellory?

Happy Copeland???
God would do some divine intervention of some sort and a M249 SAW with a 200 rd drum of 4 to 1 would appear in his hands.

Kellory ????
Bend over a sapling and rig up a jackknife trap.
Semi automatic stab em all in the neck reset mode all ninja like from his hidey hole with shoe lace control string...


I miss Kellory.
Originally Posted by Colorado1135
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...


Yeah he lost me there too.
That and the story doesn't match the title of the thread.



Maybe some kids got hold of his computer…Big squeeze comes to mind…
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.
Originally Posted by local_dirt
Originally Posted by deflave
Originally Posted by Fireball2
Been treed by a bull once.


Is that what you call it?

LOL




Oh My. That's a big un.

Lol!


Waste of a joke because Fireballz won’t even get it.

LOL
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Wow, that's one hell of a story.
How does that story (or the OP's story) relate to the OP's question in today's world for full grown men who can go heeled?

MM
I've never shared that story before. It was traumatic for my sister an all involved. Less for me. I was in pain and just wanting to get out of there.

The OP's story, and mine, both illustrate the importance of being aware of your surroundings. I sometimes question my parents letting us head off down the dirt roads on dirt bikes when we were 7 or 8 years old.

But it was a different time. Still, some young boys paid with their life for their innocence and willingness to trust the Candyman.

At this point in my life, I am never unarmed. I sometimes think my reflections on that day are one of the reasons.

I don't take a poop that I don't have a firearm within reach. Some might call me paranoid. I just refer to myself as prepared.

I don't know why the op titled his thread the way he did, or his reason for posting. But, I'm glad he did.

Perhaps his story has some lessons for the way we raise children - unable to carry a weapon. The fight-or-flight instinct should be encouraged in all children. They should be taught a healthy suspicion of strangers - well-known adults. My sister and cousin exercised good sense and fled the way they should have. They did not surrender to a person who was superiorly armed.
Originally Posted by skfullen

At this point in my life, I am never unarmed. I sometimes think my reflections on that day are one of the reasons.

I don't take a poop that I don't have a firearm within reach. Some might call me paranoid. I just refer to myself as prepared.



That's understandable & no, you're not paranoid, given the world today, but depending on where you are or where you live there are certainly a wide range of threat or alert levels.

There are just a schitt load of crazies of all types, for lots of reasons, in the world today....................overall much higher level that in the days of your story.

MM
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Holy shiet!!
Originally Posted by Huntz
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...

He did not say that.

Edit in his favor ... may have meant as is now but not what original put
Originally Posted by stxhunter
Originally Posted by Colorado1135
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...


Yeah he lost me there too.
That and the story doesn't match the title of the thread.

In 73 dollars, reading cooperation.

Like I said just above that was not what was originally but edit is his friend
You Bastages would argue anything. Glad y'all are perfect...
Originally Posted by Skankhunt42
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Holy shiet!!


You grow to appreciate growing up in that Ayish Bayou bottom.
A dude shares a compelling, heartfelt, obviously traumatic story from his history. Y'all act like Rachel Maddow and concentrate on grammar and placement of commas just to distract from the story.

Bunch of damn ass-hats...
Originally Posted by ltppowell
Originally Posted by Skankhunt42
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Holy shiet!!


You grow to appreciate growing up in that Ayish Bayou bottom.


Speak English, please. I know not of what you speak.
Sorry...I assumed you were actually from that area.
Not a Cajun or CoonAss, but I have many friends who are! They do speak English or at least attempt to, and I don't always understand what the hell they're saying.

Even though I am educated and cultured, I still speak East Texas Redneck fluently when required.
Originally Posted by slumlord
What would Hampy Crapper do?



Same thing he did the other 12 times somebody tried to off him.

McGyver his way out of it.
Originally Posted by PaulBarnard
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Wow, that's one hell of a story.

I remember reading a book about that, that sick f-cker would stick glass rods up those kids peckers then break them.
Originally Posted by stxhunter
Originally Posted by PaulBarnard
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Wow, that's one hell of a story.

I remember reading a book about that, that sick f-cker would stick glass rods up those kids peckers then break them.


I looked up this candyman and wish I hadn’t. Horrible.
[Linked Image from allthatsinteresting.com]
Got kidnapped when I was 5 years old, in 1974. Some strange hippy bastard grabbed me from out in front of the apartment complex we lived in back then. After a couple of hours he apparently thought better of it and tied me to a goalpost with my shoelaces over at the nearby school. During recess the kids found and untied me, took me to the office, and called the police; much to the relief of my frantic mother. There was a manhunt for the guy but they never caught him. Reflecting on this, there was either divine intervention or I was damned lucky!
Originally Posted by ldholton
Originally Posted by Huntz
Originally Posted by ldholton
$1600 heifer in 73 ...

He did not say that.

Edit in his favor ... may have meant as is now but not what original put


I don't see an edit tag on the original post.
Originally Posted by skfullen
A dude shares a compelling, heartfelt, obviously traumatic story from his history. Y'all act like Rachel Maddow and concentrate on grammar and placement of commas just to distract from the story.

Bunch of damn ass-hats...


I wasn't making fun bro, I was just saying HOLY SHIET. I know the story of the Candy Man and can't believe someone here has first hand knowledge. Glad you made it to adulthood. For Realz

Just cuz the OP is FOS doesn't mean everyone else is
Originally Posted by Ben_Lurkin
Got kidnapped when I was 5 years old, in 1974. Some strange hippy bastard grabbed me from out in front of the apartment complex we lived in back then. After a couple of hours he apparently thought better of it and tied me to a goalpost with my shoelaces over at the nearby school. During recess the kids found and untied me, took me to the office, and called the police; much to the relief of my frantic mother. There was a manhunt for the guy but they never caught him. Reflecting on this, there was either divine intervention or I was damned lucky!

Another HOLY SHIET!
Originally Posted by Jim_Conrad
[Linked Image from allthatsinteresting.com]

That fuggger be deddd aint he
Originally Posted by Skankhunt42
Originally Posted by Jim_Conrad
[Linked Image from allthatsinteresting.com]

That fuggger be deddd aint he

Both men in the picture are dead but Jeff Doucet, the rapist in the red shirt, died the day after the picture. Gary Plauche, THe father of the victim and the shooter, died of a stroke some years later.
It depends on the situation. One time someone had the drop on me. I put my gun down.
Well, they were probably safe since the youngest victim of the Candyman was 13 and most were in the range of 17 or so. They weren’t focused on children, they were focused on teenagers and the his teenage accomplices would lure the young men to parties with promises of drugs and booze.
Do not conflate your misadventure with citizens confronting a criminal near their homes. The victims of the law in the jogger case found themselves unfairly subject to a convoluted and muddy part of the law which should have set right by their peers.

When I was a youth with someone chasing for something I should not have done or was simply outnumbered I ran for cover and kept running. The criminal attempting to take the shotgun was expected by no one. He was deranged by birth or choice.

The case was self defense after the victims got themselves in over their dimwitted heads. Under the law, it could happen to you if you approached someone who then attacked you because you approached them, putting yourself and your weapon near them, creating the situation resulting in their death.

Also, ID isn't GA. The idea that mores and laws should be the same for people who live in what are practically different countries is ludicrous.

Look: https://matadornetwork.com/read/map-shows-many-european-countries-can-fit-continental-us/
Originally Posted by urbaneruralite
Do not conflate your misadventure with citizens confronting a criminal near their homes. The victims of the law in the jogger case found themselves unfairly subject to a convoluted and muddy part of the law which should have set right by their peers.

When I was a youth with someone chasing for something I should not have done or was simply outnumbered I ran for cover and kept running. The criminal attempting to take the shotgun was expected by no one. He was deranged by birth or choice.

The case was self defense after the victims got themselves in over their dimwitted heads. Under the law, it could happen to you if you approached someone who then attacked you because you approached them, putting yourself and your weapon near them, creating the situation resulting in their death.

Also, ID isn't GA. The idea that mores and laws should be the same for people who live in what are practically different countries is ludicrous.

Look: https://matadornetwork.com/read/map-shows-many-european-countries-can-fit-continental-us/


Preach it dumbasssss
Anybody but a bunch of rednecks with double-digit IQ's should know that if you're going to shoot a groid, do it from long range, and don't take video!
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Holy fugk. THat's terrifying. Not sure it would be easy to share either, thanks I was unfamiliar with the story. Now I wish I'd never read the wiki on it.
Originally Posted by stxhunter

I remember reading a book about that, that sick f-cker would stick glass rods up those kids peckers then break them.


ltpowell says there are no f a g s in Texas.

LOL
Originally Posted by deflave
Originally Posted by stxhunter

I remember reading a book about that, that sick f-cker would stick glass rods up those kids peckers then break them.


ltpowell says there are no f a g s in Texas.

LOL


I did?
I grew up near this event. I was also a very young lad when it happened. I specifically remembered how terrified the community got. Kids would walk to school in packs of 10-20 with numerous adults. One of my neighbors walked a bunch of us to school with a shotgun. Nobody said a word about it.

When that last boy was murdered, the whole county about went ape chit.

It was terrifying. I believe there were around 500 police officers dedicated to the case.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oakland_County_Child_Killer
These are all great & interesting stories, but WTF do any of them have to do with the OP's question?

"Would you surrender your liberty to non LEO gunmen on the street?"

MM
"I don't see an edit tag on the original post."

He might want to edit again because I80 never gets close to 13 miles from the Oregon border.
Laughin' here.

MM
Originally Posted by dvnv
"I don't see an edit tag on the original post."

He might want to edit again because I80 never gets close to 13 miles from the Oregon border.



To be fair, OP was using the clutch and brakes to change gears on 50's gen tractors and bucking bales at 5 years old. Maybe the interstate or state line has changed?
Cathartic stories here. Thanks for sharing and thank God for the positive outcomes. And may He rain down fire and brimstone on the perverts!
Originally Posted by skfullen
Not a Cajun or CoonAss, but I have many friends who are! They do speak English or at least attempt to, and I don't always understand what the hell they're saying.

Even though I am educated and cultured, I still speak East Texas Redneck fluently when required.



LMFAO! Q. Who actually says "I am educated and cultured" ? A. texan who is not KW or STX.

#weunsgotslotofcultures



mike r
Originally Posted by BillyGoatGruff
Originally Posted by dvnv
"I don't see an edit tag on the original post."

He might want to edit again because I80 never gets close to 13 miles from the Oregon border.



To be fair, OP was using the clutch and brakes to change gears on 50's gen tractors and bucking bales at 5 years old. Maybe the interstate or state line has changed?



Back in the day this section of highway was signed and referred to as I 80. From 1960 when it was built through 1980 when it was redesignated I 84. It crosses into Oregon at Ontario.
Quote

The highway originally served as a fork of I-80 to serve the Pacific Northwest, and was originally numbered Interstate 80N. It was generally built along the corridor of U.S. Route 30 (US 30) and US 30S, which themselves largely followed the Oregon Trail; the US 30S designation was decommissioned in the 1970s after the freeway replacement was mostly complete. The highway was signed with the I-84 designation in 1980


As the date of the event recounted above was 1973, the nomenclature was exactly correct.

Any other dumbasses want to cast aspersions on my knowledge of my backyard of 65 years? You reminds me of a Reagan quote paraphrased " It's not that you are actually stupid, but so much of what you know is wrong."

You ignorant fuggs ought to figure out I have no reason to lie about any of this. I have absolutely zero "give a fuggs" about what you might think, therefor no reason to attempt to impress you.
Originally Posted by lvmiker
Originally Posted by skfullen
Not a Cajun or CoonAss, but I have many friends who are! They do speak English or at least attempt to, and I don't always understand what the hell they're saying.

Even though I am educated and cultured, I still speak East Texas Redneck fluently when required.



LMFAO! Q. Who actually says "I am educated and cultured" ? A. texan who is not KW or STX.

#weunsgotslotofcultures



mike r

Not sure what's at funny. You ignorant wretch.
Originally Posted by JoeBob
Well, they were probably safe since the youngest victim of the Candyman was 13 and most were in the range of 17 or so. They weren’t focused on children, they were focused on teenagers and the his teenage accomplices would lure the young men to parties with promises of drugs and booze.

Quite an assumption since authorities don’t believe they ever found or identified all of the victims.
Would you also assume the small boy with Corll was safe?

Regardless, that’s one hell of a damn unnerving story.
Good insight. I think my uncle was probably unnerved by the vehicle blocking my sister and cousin from returning to the house and the young men simultaneously showing up on horseback. That's enough to get the hair on anybody's neck to stand up straight.

I think he just wanted to make sure the young girls got home safely given everything that had transpired that day.
Originally Posted by ltppowell
Originally Posted by deflave
Originally Posted by stxhunter

I remember reading a book about that, that sick f-cker would stick glass rods up those kids peckers then break them.


ltpowell says there are no f a g s in Texas.

LOL


I did?


Yes.
Originally Posted by deflave
Originally Posted by ltppowell
Originally Posted by deflave
Originally Posted by stxhunter

I remember reading a book about that, that sick f-cker would stick glass rods up those kids peckers then break them.


ltpowell says there are no f a g s in Texas.

LOL


I did?


Yes.


Everything thing is bigger in Texas
"Back in the day this section of highway was signed and referred to as I 80. From 1960 when it was built through 1980 when it was redesignated I 84. It crosses into Oregon at Ontario."

My bad.
Originally Posted by jwp475

Everything thing is bigger in Texas




Worth repeating.
Originally Posted by skfullen
Originally Posted by lvmiker
Originally Posted by skfullen
Not a Cajun or CoonAss, but I have many friends who are! They do speak English or at least attempt to, and I don't always understand what the hell they're saying.

Even though I am educated and cultured, I still speak East Texas Redneck fluently when required.



LMFAO! Q. Who actually says "I am educated and cultured" ? A. texan who is not KW or STX.

#weunsgotslotofcultures



mike r

Not sure what's at funny. You ignorant wretch.




Amongst us ignorant wretches and reprobates "what's at funny" is kinda funny. Please excuse my level of ignorance as I have yet to achieve fluency in East Texas Redneck "when required" in my quest to become educated and cultured.

Welcome to the Campfire where is a sense of humor is always welcome.

LOL


mike r
My older brother went trick or treating at Ed Gein's house.
Originally Posted by skfullen
Well, for one I appreciate the OP's story.

When I was 11 (1972), I broke my leg riding a dirt-bike. This was in the East Texas woods near Broaddus. I'm talking remote.

My 8-year old sister and 9-year old female cousin went back to the house (Honda 50's), several miles away down country dirt roads to get my mom. My 10-year-old male cousin and
an 11 year-old friend stayed with me on their dirt bikes (Honda SL70).

On the way back to the house, my sister and cousin were confronted by a man blocking the road with a vehicle. My sister and cousin said that he had a small boy with him, crying, and the man was holding a pistol. He ordered them to stop.
The girls turned around and fled to where I was laying with a broken leg and told us what happened. My 10-year-old cousin went with them and headed back toward the house. The vehicle, man, and boy were gone.

A while later, my mom and uncle arrived with the '72 Buick station wagon. At about that same time, a couple of early 20ish young men rode up on horses. They were amiable and helpful in getting me loaded into the station wagon for the 40 or so mile trip to Lufkin & a hospital. For some reason my uncle was spooked. He sent my mom in his station wagon to take me to the hospital, and said he was going to accompany the other kids home on my Honda.

Within months, the story of The CandyMan and the Houston Mass Murders broke. When Dean Corll's picture was shown on tv, my sister screamed. (She is still traumatized by thoughts of what happened to that young boy all these decades later). When we saw Elmer Wayne Henley's photo, we all recognized him as one of the young men on horse back.

They recovered over a dozen mutilated bodies of young boys within a half of mile of where we were.
God was definitely with us that day or we would have been victims - like so many others.

I didn't have a gun, but I probably had a knife. I don't think it would have done much good.


Holy Chidt!

Are you saying the young men on horseback were serial killers too? So you were amongst 3 serial killers that day?
When it's planting time next spring, would some of you guys come by and talk to my garden? I'll save a small fortune on fertilizer!
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