The Mill Race Monster
The Mill Race Monster
The Untapped Potential of Columbus’ Hairy Green Legacy
2024 Update: A Missed Opportunity
As we rapidly approach the 50th anniversary of the Mill Race Monster sightings in Columbus, IN, it’s not surprising, but still wholly disappointing, that the city has made no moves to celebrate or even acknowledge this unique piece of local history. Why can’t the city see the value in letting its hair down? The Mill Race Monster is a tale begging to be embraced, not forgotten. Here is my original postVote For The Mill Race Monster in its entirety.
The Mysterious Mill Race Monster
Alright, let’s cut to the chase. Before we understand why a cat-eating, sexy, hairy swamp beast might be the next mayor of Columbus, IN, we must dive into the mysterious world of the Mill Race Monster. Cryptozoology, for those new to the term, is all about hunting for and studying creatures whose existence or survival is up for debate. And a cryptid? Well, that’s an animal that cryptozoologists find particularly intriguing.
The Facts of the Case
Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s take a stroll down the curious path of The Mill Race Monster and cover a few facts:
• First things first, it definitely wasn’t me – I was just a 9-month-old at the time.
• In the early fall of 1974, near Columbus, Indiana, there were reports of UFO sightings.
• Then, things got interesting in November 1974 when a hairy green “monster” made four appearances in just eight days.
• But Columbus, Indiana, didn’t quite seize the monstrous gift — it failed miserably.
The First Sightings
So, let’s dissect this peculiar tale. In the autumn of ’74, in the city of Columbus, Indiana, local UFO sightings were a hot topic. But in November of that year, high strangeness struck when four terrified women made an unusual report to the Columbus Police Department.
The women stated that they were driving through Mill Race Park—a park off the White River in a wooded area near downtown Columbus. At approximately 3 p.m., in broad daylight, the women parked their car near a boat ramp when they observed “a monster” lurking near the river. They described the creature as 6 feet tall and walking upright on two legs. They also stated that the creature was covered in dark fur and had a pale green face. The police searched the area but found nothing to support the women’s claims.
A Second Encounter
Later that night, around 11:45 p.m., another group of women burst into the Columbus Police Department, terrified and shaken. They had their own “monster” encounter in Mill Race Park. As they sat in their car chatting, a hairy creature with a green face leaped onto the hood, trying to break through the windshield with its long, sharp claws. When the police suggested it might be a prank, the witnesses insisted, “This did not look like a mask.” Even the car had deep scratches on the hood. A second search of the park yielded no monster.
Media Attention and Further Sightings
The local paper, The Republic, ran a story about these two reports, with the police guessing it might be a “misguided hobgoblin with lousy timing.” But they advised residents to stay alert.
Three days after the story was printed, the monster was spotted again. Two local men visited Mill Race Park around 4 p.m. on Nov. 5. They spotted the creature lurking behind trees near the park’s covered bridge. The two young men gave the same description: a hairy beast that stood upright with a light green face. Despite the warning issued by the police, they decided to return to Mill Race Park that same night armed with a pair of binoculars. The two young men claimed that they were chased out of Mill Race Park by the monster. The men theorized to the police that the creature might have been accidentally left behind by the UFOs spotted in the early fall.
As The Republic newspaper continued to report the sightings, people gathered in Mill Race Park, hoping to see the creature themselves. The news of the Mill Race Monster began to spread as The Courier-Journal of Louisville, The Indianapolis Star, and the Chicago Tribune reported the monster sightings.
A Public Frenzy and a City’s Response
A local smart-ass politician even suggested that the monster was a publicity-seeking political candidate trying to begin an early run toward the 1976 election. Hilarious.
Another sighting came from city dog catcher Rick Duckworth and John Brown, who reported seeing the monster after being dispatched to the park to rescue two cats in a tree. They described the monster as a person wearing a green mask and wrapped in green blankets and spotted about 200 feet away from them. Duckworth said it was 6 feet tall, maybe taller, with a large frame and long reddish hair that hung in its face. But when Duckworth started to approach, it disappeared “as fast as a deer” into nearby woods. After the feline rescue, the cats took off “like bolts of lighting.” According to Duckworth, “They were really scared.” Duckworth said he would plan to shoot the being with a tranquilizer gun he carried for dogs.
Soon after, the park began to flood with mobs of people, some of whom had traveled miles to hunt for the creature. Many of these folks were armed as the situation devolved into a frenzy.
City officials became concerned for the safety of the public. They felt it necessary to take action before someone got seriously hurt.
Robert Gilligan, the city park director, found it necessary to close Mill Race Park and deem it off-limits to the public.
Police Officer Kenneth St. John was appointed “Monster Control Officer” to address the media’s questions and handle reports of the monster.
A Mystery Unresolved
After several weeks, with no further monster sightings and the fervor of monster hunters petered out, Mill Race Park reopened to the public.
So what happened in Mill Race Park in 1974? Was it a cryptid sighting? An unknown Sasquatch-like creature just trying to live its best life who wound up too close to a community? An exiled extraterrestrial left behind by a UFO? Or, as the late Harry McCawley, an editor at The Republic, suggested in his October 30, 2014, column on the 40th anniversary of the Mill Race Monster, it was a hoax that tarnished Columbus’ reputation and needed to die. I find it convenient that he left out of Duckworth’s account that he said the monster disappeared “as fast as a deer” into nearby woods—because that’s normal, right? When I’m dressed up like that whilst running (yes, I said whilst running), I can barely make the speed of a possum-trot and still wind up smashed mask first into a tree. So it looked like a man in a mask, but Duckworth was willing to shoot it with a tranquilizer upon his next sighting of Hairy—that’s logical, right? Seriously? But Harry did concede that the story does add a bit of kick to the city’s brand of “unexpected, unforgettable.”
The “Hoax” Theory and Public Skepticism
In 2015, Harry reiterated his “man in a blanket” theory on the “largest monster hunt in U.S. history” for a feature on Destination America’s Monsters and Mysteries in America episode. Harry said Sgt. Dennis Knulf had told him the monster was later discovered to be a young man who came forward years later and admitted he dressed in costume but was never arrested because he indeed never committed any crime. Uh-huh. Knulf is the same officer who also said, “We think it was someone playing a hoax, but we don’t know for sure,” adding that strange footprints were found by police sometime during that busy month in 1974.
Reflecting on the Past
So here we are, almost 50 years later. Let’s revisit what we know now after our crash course in all things Mill Race Monster. First off, as I said before, I was a baby still swaddled up in my drool and poo in November of ’74—so it wasn’t me, unfortunately.
Secondly, the area was a UFO sighting hotspot before the first appearance. Many cryptozoologists and ufologists see a correlation between UFO sightings and encounters with cryptids—Bigfoot, thunderbirds, black panthers, and a whole menagerie of other bizarre creature cases. Usually, these happen in the vicinity of high-energy sources. So you have a lot of instances around power plants, high-tension power lines, radio and broadcast communication towers, railroad tracks, gas lines, military bases, etc. Columbus, Indiana, checks a few of these boxes, especially considering the railroad tracks that follow the river through the park and Camp Atterbury’s proximity. Just sayin’.
Thirdly, I cannot confirm or deny what was behind the Mill Race Monster claims, but a hairy green something was sighted four times. Was it a cryptid? Maybe? That sounds exciting. Was it a hoax perpetrated by a young man, as city officials claim? Probably. But I do have a few questions. Harry, in his column, quipped that the first sighting happened during the day, which is not normal monster hours. I want to say that if monsters are real, to my knowledge, Harry wasn’t a cryptozoologist who studied the Hairy Green of Mill Race. Plus, globally, there have been countless cryptid sightings during the day. But, if the accounts were valid, I’d like to point out that the ladies who witnessed the monster should’ve been able to discern the difference between flesh and blood versus a 1970s Halloween mask. Have you watched horror movies from that period? Get real. And attacking women and damaging a car by jumping on the hood and leaving scratches are apparently not offenses that’ll get you arrested in Columbus, IN, either—even years later after the alleged man behind the mask came forward—and I don’t advocate testing that theory out.
Skepticism and City Inaction
That’s the part that gets me. People are willing to accept the hoax theory based on the words of the very employees who work for the city that wanted the Mill Race Monster hassle to disappear. Why did witnesses go to the police station to report a monster instead of saying a weirdo in a costume? And what about the strange footprints left behind? Why would a cop even mention that? When the dog catcher was dispatched to the park, if the monster was close enough to have had those two cats treed, why didn’t the caller note there was a monster standing under them with its dinner bib on? You saw two cats in a tree but didn’t notice the six-foot-plus creature? And why wouldn’t law enforcement at least brag a tad that the case was closed if someone came forward later, or at least dropped a hint to the newspaper, even if no arrest was made and that everything was copacetic? Was there a cover-up? Was it the mayor’s son or wife or something? The local priest? The CEO of Cummins Engine Company? It just feels like revisionist history to me.
A Missed Opportunity for Columbus
So, as I said before, my fourth fact is that Columbus, Indiana, has completely dropped the ball on this. Why? It’s a huge opportunity. How so? I’m glad you asked. Towns are always looking for tourism dollars, and nothing smells more like money to me than celebrating the odd story of The Mill Race Monster. But, the city might have to turn its nostrils down enough to get a whiff of the green cash generated by this beautiful green bastard.
Case in point, let’s turn our attention to Point Pleasant, WV, for the perfect example. You’d have to be living under a rock to not at least have heard about The Mothman. In a quick summary, in mid-November 1966, in that small town of Point Pleasant, two young couples fled the local woods, claiming they’d seen a terrifying creature. They recounted their story to the sheriff and reported that the entity looked human in most respects—except for its 10-foot wings and glowing red eyes. During the next few days, other people reported similar sightings after local newspapers reported it. Two volunteer firemen who saw it said it was a “large bird with red eyes.” Mason County Sheriff George Johnson commented that he believed the sightings were due to an unusually large heron he termed a “shitepoke.” Some intriguing similarities, wouldn’t you say? More city officials were pissing down the backs of the people’s fun, I assume.
Learning from Point Pleasant
But here’s where the two tales go in totally different directions. As the city of Columbus willed its monster into historical absurdity, Point Pleasant hopped on the wings of The Mothman and flew on it. How so? Every year, they celebrate with The Mothman Festival, which draws 10,000-15,000 visitors, pumping money into the local community. They have a statue, they have a museum, and they put on a 5K race—all because of an obscure story that happened that nobody can genuinely prove.
The good news for The Mill Race Monster is that it’s not too late. We can start a Mill Race Monster Festival. We need to change the minds of the city of Columbus and let them see the value of embracing that smelly river ape. Plus, 2024 is the 50th Anniversary of the appearance of Mr. Hairy Green. First, we need a statue. Hell, put it opposite on the intersection facing Eos—our version of Beauty and the Beast, Bartholomew County style!
Planning a Mill Race Monster Festival
Secondly, we need a place to host it: Mill Race Park! Boom! Festival planning comes naturally to me—it’s a gift. A 5k run with participants dressed as the monster? Of course! And lastly, we need the city to plan, approve, and pay for this. Since they took the monster away, they should bring him back. They’d eventually loosen up enough to see the monetary value and the community benefits of having some silly, old-fashioned fun.
Columbus: Embrace the Beast!
Who honestly cares what happened? Let’s party! We can justify it as part of our local heritage. Seymour, Indiana, doesn’t have its own damn monster—not even close. What do they have? Lutherans? Nice try, Seymour. Greensburg, Indiana? Get outta here with your stupid shrub growing out of your courthouse tower. So what? We have a flippin’ monster! Columbus, give us our monster, I say, with my voice of pitchforks and torches! For Columbus to be unexpected, unforgettable—sprinkle it with some unexplainable. I dare you to see what happens.
A Call to Action: Vote for the Monster
As the citizens of Columbus head towards the polls on November 7th, 2023, they’ll be voting for the next mayor. Their choices are either Mary Ferdon, a Republican, or Sean Burton, an Independent. I encourage everyone in the city limits to contact both mayoral candidates NOW, before Election Day, and ask them if they’d support starting an annual Mill Race Monster Festival. If not, I wouldn’t vote for either. It would be better if everyone voted for The Mill Race Monster as a write-in for mayor. Even if the people’s will is defeated this round, if we continue this fight in the ballot box, even if it takes years, Hairy Green will eventually come out on top—with a proper festival. After all, monster stories last forever, no matter if you’ve stopped looking under your beds at night.
Besides, not counting that burgomaster creature of a different hue from a few years back, Columbus has never had an incredibly cool monster in City Hall.
Carpe diem, Columbus, Indiana!
And long live The Mill Race Monster!
— Evel Ogilville
#KeepItMeanWithHairyGreen
#MillRaceMonsterFest
Timeline:
Mill Race Monster
(also known as (Hairy Green) Monster of Mill Race Park)
Mill Race Park, Columbus, Indiana
Spotted at least four times in eight days during November 1974:
Nov. 1 – Two separate incidents of “beast” sighting in park reported to police. Described by two groups of women as large, green, hairy, clawed and walking upright at about 6 feet tall. First sighting of “the thing” by pair of women in afternoon near paved boat ramp to White River. During late evening another group of women saw something similar and reported it pounded on car and jumped on hood, leaving scratch/paw marks in the paint before disappearing into woods near where Driftwood and Flatrock rivers meet to form East Fork of White River. Officers searched area, but nothing located.
Nov. 5 – A large, hairy “thing” hiding behind trees near park’s covered bridge sighted by pair of men in late afternoon and again near midnight when they had returned with binoculars to try for closer look. Claimed to have been chased from park by the monster and reported to sheriff’s department. One of men suggested monster had been left in the park earlier in the fall by visitors from another planet. Timing of sightings coincided with reports of UFOs over much of Midwest, including Columbus. Another explanation was publicity-seeking political candidate.
Some believed monster hiding in lagoon at mouth of Flatrock or in lair in dense woods by park. Over the following week, dozens of “monster hunters” descended to park on foot and in cars, some armed with knives, clubs and guns, searching park at west end of Fifth Street along White River. Prompted warnings from authorities who feared both harm to hunters and suspected prankster posing as the monster.
Nov. 8 – City dog catcher Rick Duckworth with John Brown reported sighting after dispatched to park to rescue two cats in tree, described as person wearing green mask and wrapped in green blankets seen about 200 feet away from them. Duckworth said 6 feet tall, maybe taller, large frame and long reddish hair that hung in face. When Duckworth started to approach, disappeared “as fast as a deer” into nearby woods. After rescue, cats took off “like bolts of lighting.” According to Duckworth, “they were really scared.” Duckworth said he would plan to shoot the being with a tranquilizer gun.
Woman called police after hearing noises in garage and son claiming to have seen the monster, which “escaped” before officers arrived.
The Republic’s Nov. 12 editorial “Enough’s Enough” critical of what started as “lark” with first sightings of “green, scaly being emerging from waters in and around Mill Race Park” but that escalated to a dangerous disturbance.
Nov. 14 Letter to Editor from “A Concerned Reader” followed, encouraging the public to ignore the attention-seeker: “If every one of those silly fools out looking for ‘it’ would all stay away for a while, ‘it’ would realize what an ass he or she is making of themselves and quit this silly masquerade.”
Descriptions of creature’s stature ranged from a man to as large as Bigfoot.
Park grounds barricaded and announced closed from dusk to dawn indefinitely after expected throng of curiosity-seekers arrive. More than 135 cars counted in park on following Friday night, and dozens turned away by police over weekend. “The closing is not because of the monster, but because of the potential danger and injury to persons looking for it,” said Parks Director Robert Gillikin.
Police Officer Kenneth St. John designated “Monster Control Officer” to field out-of-town media queries on the “monstrous situation.”
“Monster Roast” on Nov. 20 agenda for meeting of Mill Race Park Committee though by then it hadn’t been heard from in while.
In revisiting the story of the years:
“We think it was someone playing a hoax, but we don’t know for sure,” said Sgt. Dennis Knulf, adding that strange footprints were found by police sometime during that busy month in 1974.
In a 1993 revisiting of the story, one of the unnamed women who had reported the monster said it didn’t look like it was wearing a mask to her.
“The big, black blurry-looking thing came toward the car. It’s face was pale-looking. It had long fingernails like claws – and fangs. The face was a greenish-white – really yucky looking.”
Republic editor Harry McCawley recalled in 2015 the “largest monster hunt in U.S. history” for feature on Destination America “Monsters and Mysteries in America” episode. McCawley said Knulf had told him the monster was discovered to be young man who came forward years later and admitted dressed in costume.
Story eventually died out but resurfaces occasionally as urban legend.
Sources:
Special thanks to Eunice Specter for her research. And a shoutout to cryptozoologist Chris McDaniel and his book, Spooky Reports of Strange Encounters, for keeping the legend of Hairy Green going.
(The Republic: 11/2/74; 11/6/74; 11/8/74; 11/9/74; 11/11/74; 11/12/74; 11/20/74; 10/31/93; 10/31/03; 10/30/14; 3/12/2015; Indianapolis Star: 11/9/74; 11/10/74)