Update to Eee Wahn Chu - Creature Sighting -
In the 1990s I worked a 3:30 to midnight shift in the town of Raynham,
Massachusetts where I lived. Every night after work the first thing I did after
saying hello to my wife and perhaps grabbing a quick sandwich, was to go for
a walk around the neighborhood with my dog Samantha, a Rott-Shep mix.
Sammy was not a huge dog, but she was fairly large and weighed about
around 50 pounds. A gentle companion, she had a good disposition and mild
demeanor, but was not timid or easily frightened.
My house was on a quiet residential street. The backyard opened up into the
High Tees, a fairly wide swath of land running through town hosting the
electric company’s high-tension wires.
Most nights Sammy and I would begin our walk by going through my
backyard and into the High Tees. Back in the ‘90s’ the electric company did
not trim trees as aggressively as today, so the area was practically a leafy
tunnel running behind the homes.
After spending a bit of time in the Tees we usually walked towards an area of
the street where a river passes under the street. On one side is a dam that I
believe was used by a long-ago Iron Works on the site. In the 1600s, the town
of Raynham had some of the earliest Iron Works in the ‘new’ England.
Near this spot, heading toward the center of town, the houses give way to a
large, privately owned wooded area containing a few small ponds and
streams.
After leaving the river, Sam and I usually walked back towards my house.
The route was pretty much the same every night, with little variation.
The population of Raynham in the 2020s is over 15,000, but back in the
1990s it was about 9 thousand. The streets were silent at night. During all my
walks I almost never saw a car pass by, or a light in somebody’s window. In
fact, the police department back then didn’t even have a third shift. At
midnight, any calls to the Raynham Police Department, were re-routed to the
neighboring city of Taunton. Back in those days, the newspaper printed a
daily listing of the calls to each police department in the area, and there was
almost never an overnight call from Raynham.
Summing up, our walks were solitary and the last thing we would expect to
see after midnight while walking would be a person or a car.
But one night in October we saw something. It was not a person. It was not a
vehicle. I don’t know what it was!
I’m getting ahead of myself. At first, we did not see anything.
We were back on my street, less than 200 yards away from my house. Sammy
started pulling on her leash. Then she started whimpering, almost crying.
“What’s wrong Sam? Are you okay Baby? What is it Sam?”
She started squirming and straining at the leash, struggling to pull me towards
home.
“Sammy! What is wrong with you? Sam. Are you okay?”
In answer she seemed to cry, almost like a person in tears.
And then I heard what her much sharper canine ears had detected.
“Keer. Keer! Ee wahn chu. EE WAHN CHU!”
It was an eerie high-pitched plea that seemed to be emanating from a spot
near a streetlight across the street from us.
It got louder and seemed closer.
“KEER. KEER! EE WAH CHU. CHU! CHU! EE WAHN CHU!”
Then it walked into the circle of light cast by the streetlight. It was about three
feet tall and all covered in hair. Its hand extended in a beckoning motion, it
spoke again, “Keer. Keer. EE Wahn Chu!”
It was October. So, for a moment I was convinced that it was a kid in a
Halloween costume.
“Are you OK? Do you need help? Do you live around here?”
“KEER! KEER! EE WAH CHU!”
It was no kid. I was sure now, that it was not a child and it was not human!
It also did not seem especially frightening, although Sammy obviously was
very scared of it.
It had a bit of a pot belly, and a face that I described as like a chipmunk, but
that is not accurate. A chipmunk has bulging cheeks and the creature’s face
was much more rounded. The drawing by John Geig, a Boston artist
commissioned to render a picture for the 2013 Bridgewater Triangle
Documentary, is the most accurate rendering of what I saw.
I kept talking to it, but it never acknowledged me, instead it kept repeating the
same rant…. “EE WAH CHU!”
I repeat, It did not look fierce. It was kind of cute. I am pretty sure that if my
dog Sam, was not afraid of it, I would have crossed the street and walked
right up to it!
But my brave Sammy was shivering and rattling like an overloaded washing
machine! My fearless canine pal was desperately tugging at her leash trying
to pull me home.
Dogs know things. They seem to have a sixth sense. Ultimately, I decided to
go along with Sammy. If she was afraid of the thing, then I too should be
frightened of it.
So, with some reluctance, I turned my back to the creature and walked back to
my house, with Sammy straining at her leash all the way.
To sum it up. I went home because Sammy was afraid of the thing. To this
day I wonder, what would have happened if Sammy had not been with me?
