McMullen: Beaman Monster remains elusive

This is my second column documenting my “Mischief Night” search for the Beaman Monster, continued from my Tuesday column.

We turned onto Olive Branch Road and spent a good few minutes shining our flashlights into the rushing water running underneath our very feet. Janet and Michael seemed to be convinced that the area under and immediately around the bridge would be prime monster territory. 

“One night,” Janet later told me, “I was driving on O Highway and for a split second I saw a shadowy figure near the bridge just south of Beaman. It was probably just my mind wanting to see something; I feel silly saying it.”

Ultimately the only thing that we saw under that bridge was what appeared to be a large black tarp that got caught on something. 

We eventually made it to the open field behind the Gertz family residence and the first thing we came upon was a meandering pack of hay bales. I had told the family about the information I had received — the supposed fact that the Beaman Monster(s) looked like hay bales during the day.

It was clearly not day at this point but we investigated them a little bit because most of them seemed to find this revelation quite interesting. This was an addendum to the legend that they had never heard.

Michael played up the scare factor of the potentially living hay bales. It seemed like he wanted to do a little snipe hunting while we were Beaman Monster hunting, if you know what I mean. Part of his mission for the night seemed to be to terrify the girls. He took a catty-corner path across the creek when we turned the corner onto Olive Branch Road and popped out at us when the time was right. He wasn’t answering his mother’s repeated calls — I figured he probably had every intention to pop out at us.

Shortly after we passed the hay bales, we realized that we were being watched by two dogs from across the property fence. They eventually decided that this group of humans was too interesting to pass up and slipped under the fence to join the hunt.

I was informed that these were the neighbor’s dogs. I don’t really know my dog breeds but they were a were probably shepherds or pointers or something like that. They were dogs who looked pretty standard — the default-shaped dog that comes to mind first for most people when they hear the word “dog.”

One was white with brown spots — I was informed that his name was probably Starsky, but it also could have been the dog named Hutch. The second one was black with a white throat and I understood that its name was Molly. Now I knew we would eventually have to point the dogs home, but I figured for the time being that it might be useful to have a couple of hounds who could potentially pick up the monster’s scent.

The open field was calming Marissa but little Hannah seemed to be more scared with every bit of ground we covered. You can’t be sure of what exactly might be coming for you in a situation like this, and our monster talk wasn’t helping her any. She was close to reaching her breaking point. 

We found something of a path in the overgrowth, but it wasn’t exactly well-worn and I saw no reason to believe without a doubt that it had been caused by any bigfoot-like creature. It could have been, sure — but it couldn’t even begin to be evidence unless there were some other signs to back it up.

We had nearly reached the end of the field and I suggested that we quiet down a little bit and spend few minutes listening for strange, monster-like sounds. We all stood there for about 20 minutes, but we could hardly hear anything other than the flowing creek and the wind occasionally whipping through the trees. Our near silence wasn’t doing us any good because Mother Nature wouldn’t be quiet for us. 

“I really want to go home,” demanded Hannah. She was very serious and I was hardly interested in scaring a sweet little girl to the point of crying. We all assured her that we were on our way back. 

When we got back to the house, we sat in the living room and I insisted that they tell me everything they have heard about the Beaman Monster. They had promised to show me pictures of a strange footprint they had found.

They had taken two pictures on Dec. 1, 2006, of a formation in the snow that I will admit appears to resemble a footprint. They told me that the print they found was a little larger than an average human footprint. The toe of this imprint was abnormally large. There was one problem, however: The toe marks were convex instead of concave like they should have been. 

“There was a branch above the print and snow could have fallen off of it into a pattern that just happened to look like a footprint,” said Janet. The toe lumps and the lack of any other footprints seem to support a conclusion like this, but they are still a couple of interesting photos. 

“Back during Prohibition, the people of Beaman would go out and put money on top of the fence posts,” said Janet, remembering a story she was once told. “The Beaman Monster would come and take their money and leave them a bottle of homemade whiskey. Anything they couldn’t explain was blamed on the Beaman Monster.”

We had sugar cookies and hot chocolate as the Gertz family told me everything they could about their local cryptid. I didn’t find the Beaman monster but I found a good group of people all the way out in Beaman — a family who insisted on calling me their friend. I’d like to thank the Gertz family — maybe there will come a day when I come out there and we try it again. 

“I wonder if maybe it’s just a mystery that we want to keep alive,” concluded Janet, “The monster is traditional.”