by Bob Curran
Gradually, FBI involvement in the case began to fade away and slowly petered out. The Albuquerque office finally placed a “closed status” sticker on it and there the matter rests. The cattle mutilations attributed to the skinwalkers are deemed to stem from the activities of natural predators and scavengers. Although the FBI were aware of old Native American tales—and this is evident from their files—they largely discounted them. About 90 percent of the mutilations were explained in this way. This left 10 percent unexplained by conventional means and the FBI appears to have drawn a line under these and proceeded no further. What information they did release about their investigations was counted as “too glib” and “too superficial” by those who believed in other explanations. Notions of the skinwalkers still persisted, although, as time went on, a straightforward supernatural explanation gave way to ideas concerning UFOs and government cover-ups. Were the skinwalkers actually from outer space? Was the U.S. military actually using genetic technology found in a crashed spacecraft at Roswell, New Mexico, to create new forms of life, some of which had run amok and attacked the livestock? Many who saw the strange ball-shaped lights, originally equated with Native American witches, now linked them with UFOs and extraterrestrials. There was even a theory that speculated that an organization named Majestic-12 was operating in the area in clandestine genetic experimentation on some of the lonely ranches. Majestic-12 is allegedly the code name for a secret governmental committee made up of scientists, military, and politicians, which was set up in the wake of the Roswell Incident in 1947. According to tradition, the Committee was initiated by President Harry S. Truman and was first chaired by Gordon Grey, who was an official in the administrations of both Presidents Truman and Eisenhower. The purpose of Majestic-12, or MJ-12, was thought to be to investigate UFO contacts and other phenomena and to assess the possible use of UFO technology in terrestrial scientific projects. Although it had been long suspected that such a group existed, it was finally confirmed in 1984 when a set of documents emerged showing the establishment of Majestic-12 by President Truman following the recommendations of senior science administrator Vannevar Bush, and James Forrestal, the U.S. Secretary of Defense. The impetus for setting up such a committee was to investigate and possibly utilize both scientific and genetic material that had been found in the wreckage of the crashed alien spacecraft near Roswell. MJ-12 maintained links with other clandestine U.S. organizations such as the ultra-secretive NSC 5412/2 Special Group and the CIA’s Office of National Estimates. It was supposedly something that was connected with Majestic-12, which had caused the cattle mutilations; whatever it was, it appeared to be something that the U.S. Government was secretly working on out in the New Mexico deserts. Since the 1980s, purported Majestic-12 documents have surfaced from time to time detailing covert meetings, but it has to be pointed out that nearly all of this documentation is of questionable provenance and has materialized in unusual circumstances. Indeed, the FBI has investigated and found the documentary origin to be suspicious. So, although there have been alleged reports relating to the creation of hybrid beings created from both human and alien DNA under the aegis of Majestic-12—perhaps, some argue, the true origin of the skinwalker—the hard evidence remains hazy and speculative. That is not to say, however, that something isn’t going on out in the New Mexico/Arizona deserts—something that might not necessarily be of this world and that indeed might be being manipulated by clandestine sectors of the United States government.
The emphasis for the skinwalker legend seemed to move from the realm of the supernatural toward the secretly scientific. It seemed to have more to do with UFOs and mad scientists than it did with witches and demons. All the same, the old Native American folklore beliefs still persisted.
The two theories concerning extra-terrestrials and the supernatural came together in what has become known as “the Skinwalker Ranch.” The Ranch is also known as the Sherman Ranch, and lies to the southeast of Ballard, Utah. The property is made up of roughly 480 acres. Although the ranch had been the focus of Native American folklore, the site was brought to popular attention by the Salt Lake City, Utah Desert News and later the Las Vegas Mercury, which is a publication for what it calls “the alternative society.” The articles for the Mercury were written by George Knapp, who subsequently went on to write a book with Colm Kelleher in which they state that the ranch was acquired by the National Institute for Discovery Science (a privately-funded Las Vegas organization set up to study paranormal phenomena) for the purpose of investigating curious phenomena that allegedly occurred there. They particularly focused on the experiences of Tom Gorman, who had owned the ranch in the 1990s.
The ranch lies on the very edge of Uintah County, bordering the Ute Indian Reservation. The Utes have a story about a very ancient pueblo that once existed there, which had become home to a band of “witchy people.” However, Knapp and Kellaher seemed to be more interested in UFO activity, and the site was quickly dubbed “the UFO ranch.” However, even with a more “alien-based” approach, not even they could ignore the tribal traditions of the Utes. For example, they mention a place not far from the ranch called Dark Canyon, where there were extremely ancient petroglyphs on the rock face, which was believed to show a skinwalker. To this place, skin-walkers could be summoned by Ute and Navajo magicians.
Experiments were conducted on the ranch to hunt down the skinwalkers (either supernatural or extraterrestrial) in 1996, and there was still some interest in the ranch (with surveillance cameras still rolling) in 2004. However, even Knapp admitted that very little had occurred. He left the National Institute of Discovery Science in 2004, and the investigators were forced to admit that, although there had been certain unexplained phenomena throughout the years, there were difficulties in obtaining evidence consistent with scientific publication. The skinwalkers, whether they came from an ancient pueblo, from the Dark Canyon, or from outer space, just hadn’t shown themselves.
So what lies out there in the Arizona/New Mexico deserts? Something older than time? Something created by Native American witchcraft? A creature secretly created by the American government for some sinister purpose? Something from beyond the stars? Even today, the mysterious skinwalker proves as elusive as ever.
CALIFORNIA
People say said that the dead can often return from the grave for a number of reasons. The medieval church, for example, explicitly suggested that they came back to warn, admonish, and punish for these reasons only. They were not permitted to engage in excess physical harm to those whom they encountered, largely because they were the Blessed Dead, those whom God allowed back into the world for a limited time in order to complete what they left undone or to benefit their descendants in some way. Earlier tales, however, spoke of cadavers returning to be troublesome, stealing drink and food, and to inflict physical harm on the living. Some stories even said that the dead actually hated the living and would do them harm if and when they could. There was also the idea that the dead, having lain in the cold earth for a period of time, would leech heat and vitality off the living, making them like a parasite. In some texts, the dead are compared to ivy, which attaches itself to a healthy tree and draws off the good from it.
The comparison with the plant or vegetable worlds is not simply a coincidental one, for in some cultures, the dead can physically attach themselves to living humans (a bit like leeches) and draw off the good from them in the way that a parasite might do. For example, in Czech folklore, such creatures—it is not clear whether they are the dead or simply some demonic form of life—can often be found clinging to the interiors of old and perhaps abandoned houses. Such creatures are often known as Ipeni Duse (clinging souls), and are considered to be extremely dangerous. Descriptions of them vary; some depict them as tiny monkey-like things, hanging on the inside of the roofs of falling buildings, others as a massive shadowy insect, like a gigantic armor-plated wasp, others still as some gelatinous being oozing along a high overhang the building. When anyone enters the ruin, the T
hing drops down, connecting with the person’s body by means of a stinger-like spike or by suckers on the ends of its fingers. Once it is attached, there is little chance of it being removed, and it will cling on, drawing all the vitality from its host. In some cases, it will seize the victim about the neck and upper torso, clinging on while it leeches off vitality through its toes. This scenario is often represented in the sea-faring Greek myth of the Old Man of the Sea. In this tale, a sailor is called upon to carry an old man onto his back across an obstacle such as a fast-flowing river or inlet on a beach. No sooner has he hoisted the old fellow on to his back than the Old Man is revealed to be a minor demon, which forces the sailor to carry him about while the creature leeches all the man’s energy from him. Thus, his good deed turns into a living nightmare. Just exactly what the creature is—whether it is one of the dead or a being of the Underworld—is not clear, but it is vampiric and incredibly dangerous.
The idea of the clinging soul is found in a number of other cultures besides the Czechs and Greeks. Even as far away as Tibet and Sikkim, these beings often cling to the shadowy places on the insides of remote lamaseries, feeding off the bad thoughts of the lamas, which float upward. These are thought to be the souls of evil men in the area of the monastery who have gravitated as evil entities toward its walls. In India, such beings are thought to dwell in damp, dark caves and will attack any trespasser who seeks to rest there. They are also known in some mountain areas of Germany and Italy, particularly in the Brocken and Hertz areas of northern Germany where they are considered to be especially active. And they are even known in some of the remoter areas of the Ozark Mountains in America. It is even said that in these places, they were known to the Native Americans, long before the coming of the white man, but that the mountaineers also know of them and are wary of them. They are sometimes equated with mighty insects such as Ulagu (the name is a Cherokee word for “boss” or “leader”) that are said to dwell in the darkness of the deepest recesses of the Nantahala Gorge in the remote areas of western North Carolina. These are indeed giant insect species that defy any classification and are said to be vampiric in nature. In some legends, they are said to be the souls (or the “clinging souls”) of people who died in ancient times and who cannot reach the afterlife. Instead, they remain in this one, preying on the living and drawing energy and sustenance from them.
Sometimes, these “clinging souls” can enter a house undetected, find some shadowy place, and simply draw the good from everything and from the people who live there. In this respect, it might closely resemble the shadow things to be found in New York. In the Ozarks, they are considered to be “hants” and “gatherers” and sometimes “old timey things,” which sometime drift down from the mountain graveyards and into the cabins of some of the mountain people. There they lie in the dark in some remote place and draw the good of the house into them. Either that, or they can attack the inhabitants of the cabin as they lie and sleep, enveloping them like some great mass of shadow and drawing whatever vitality they have from them. There is little that the mountain people can do to drive these things away, although certain “granny women” and “goomer men” living in the high mountains sometimes have power over them and can keep them at bay simply by burning herbs. If they are left unchecked, they grow stronger—feeding off living people. There are stories from Ireland, from times long ago, of such creatures that entered the cottages of the peasantry and were difficult to cast out—even by a priest. A story from the village of Blacklion in County Cavan, Ireland, tells of one of these things, mistakenly invited in by one of the daughters of the house, which creates terrible mayhem and draws the vitality from the family. In desperation, the man of the house seeks out a retired priest who lives nearby and who knows about exorcism. This priest is able to finally drive the thing out, but only after a ferocious struggle, and he told the family that it is right that they contacted him when they did. If they had left it any longer, he revealed, it would have taken nine priests and nine bishops to get rid of the entity. This was how quickly such things took root in a dwelling. Although the being is usually dismissed as a poltergeist, some variants of the story attest that the family within the cottage experienced an intense lethargy—it may have been a form of “clinging soul” or “gatherer,” which came from an old iron-age earthworks nearby.
In the previous Irish example above, the idea of the plant world is used once more. The priest in the story spoke of the entity “taking root,” like a weed or something similar. And in some parts of the world, vampiric entities may have been viewed in such a way. They were sometimes equated with a form of genius loci—a particular spirit that attached itself to a place. In other sections of this book, we explore how certain forces might be identified with wells and hollows, and this once again reiterated that idea. The spirit was native to the area in which it was found—indeed, it seemed to grow in that particular place. And of course, such spirits were often hostile toward the human interlopers who came into their area. Therefore, one had to be careful if he or she slept in certain places, such as old mounds or to ancient stones or certain trees in case such localities contained such a spirit. Such things may have been ghosts of a sort, or they may have been ancient forces that had existed there since earliest times. And, although not all of them were vampiric, some were and could sometimes draw either blood or energies from those who slept near to them. Indeed, because such entities were the spirits of the place, they became in the popular mind, the actual place itself. They lived within (and as part of) the standing stones, the old mounds, or the trees that stood or grew within the area or upon the very site. This gave all of these largely inanimate objects a kind of virulent life of their own and those who ventured too close to them risked much. Those who settled close by or who perhaps camped near to them might fall under the baleful influence, for like the “clinging souls” they were often both hostile and greedy toward human beings. Like the animals that prowled about the landscape (especially in earlier and perhaps more dangerous times), they sometimes viewed weak and largely vulnerable humans as their prey.
The linkage in perception between these ancient spirits and the world of growth and nature is important. In many ancient cultures, such forces were actually thought of as part of the natural world and were spoken about in such terms. We have already mentioned that it was sometimes as if the spirit was actually rooted in such a place, that it emerged or grew out of the landscape itself. This irrevocably linked it to the stones, trees, and plants of the land all around it. So, it is not uncommon in some parts of the world to find that the very rocks and plants themselves are connected to hostile intelligences that were inimical toward humans.
In A Frontier Land, which is a description of British military service in Northern India during the early 1900s, R.B. Gilbertson, describes a trek along the edge of the Himalayan foothills. During the course of their march they came to a small, dark valley along a mountain trail, where the track dipped down to a gloomy river many feet below. The valley was very shadowy and had an “uneasy feel” to it, according to Gilbertson, and even as it sent something of a chill through his being. What was particularly unsettling, however, was a large and twisted tree growing out of the rockface just above the track. Although the growth appeared to be dead, Gilbertson notes that there seemed to be a feeling of malignant life emanating from it—even a kind of intelligence, as if the Thing was aware of their approach. Logic told him, of course, that this couldn’t be true, and yet he sensed its almost evil intent. Some of the stick-like branches stretched down from the rock face and onto the dusty trail along which they had to pass, but most of it hung from a rocky ledge, just above the height of a man, like some great bird’s nest. The whole growth practically oozed menace. The bearers with the party stalled and refused to go any further—refusing to pass beneath the Thing and urging the British soldiers with them not to do so, either. This was a bad spirit, they explained, the essence of which pervaded the entire valley beyond and kept it dark and gloomy.
There were no animals that lived in the valley, because the dark spirit had drank the life force from them; Gilbertson did notice that although they had been observing (and sometimes shooting) buzzards for a few days previously, none wheeled in the valley nor did he see any obvious traces of animal life. If they passed by the Thing, the bearers assured him, something terrible would befall them all and they would die—the goodness sucked from their bodies by the strange plant on the ledge. And looking at it, Gilbertson said that he could readily believe them. In the end, the expedition went by another route, high up into the foothills and by-passing that particular valley. Whether this was indeed a kind of vampire or, at the very least, the dark spirit of the place, Gilbertson had no way of knowing, but its memory stayed with him for many years afterward. It might initially appear strange as to why a simple leafless bush should make such an impression on a British military officer, but perhaps Gilbertson responded to the sight of the eerie growth at some deep, almost subconscious level and that it affected him in this way.