Thursday, April 29, 2010

From Jake and Patricia

From Jake and Patricia:

"Dear Clifford Howry,

My name is Jake. My wife Patricia and I have been scouting for details for a long time, but finally someone else has surfaced – you. It's unbelievable how long we've been looking for someone else like us, but now we have at last.

Since 1986, my wife and I have been collecting data on Ragface, whom your acquaintance Barbara has affectionately nicknamed Seedeater. Together, we have pieced together a scrapbook over the years. Inside, we collected our own series of testimonies and photographs, sketches and so forth. Since then, our interest has died down slightly, but I was ecstatic when I came across your website. It definitely excites me that someone new has discovered Ragface’s fable, and continues to delve into its source.

What I really am trying to get across to you is the idea of a collaboration. I'm interested in perhaps lending you our scrapbook. The internet is a huge medium that didn't truly exist when Patricia and I were collecting data. Now, you can spread the word and the awareness regarding Ragface (or Seedeater). If you are interested, please reply with your mail details so that we can send this package on its way.


Friday, April 23, 2010

Facebook Page

I created a Facebook Page for the blog:

From Hugh

From Hugh:

“Hey Clifford,

My friend Nolan Toal sent me your website, and I quickly recalled something my eight year old son, Trey, told me. About a year ago, Trey was going down to the nearby creek to catch frogs. He came back only a few minutes later. I asked him why and he said there was a “scary bird man” standing across the footbridge. He said the man's face was “stretchy and with no eyes” and that he wanted to take him into the woods. I continued asking him if he could remember any other details about the man, because I was planning on calling the police and giving them a description, but Trey kept on saying that the man's face was all wrong. I gave whatever details I could to the police, but they told be that they couldn't run a description on the man because it was too vague.

When Nolan told me to check this site out, I thought of this incident. I'm not entirely sure if its related or not.

Hugh Kingdom”

Thursday, April 22, 2010

From Nolan (pictures)

A few days ago, I updated my Twitter with a status reading "I reminded Nolan a week ago about the drawings he did. He says he found them when he was helping his father move. He's mailing them to me..." Above are the two images that was drawn by Nolan as a child, which he found. The first, gives us what I can assume is a child's rendering of the face of the Seed Eater.

He apologized for the scribblings on the pages. He believes his father may have inadvertently used them as scrap paper for finances.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Twitter Account

I set up a Twitter account yesterday, for those who want to follow the updates on the Seed Eater Experiences blog:

Also, a reminder to send any testimonies, images, or videos to:

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

From Dominick

From Dominick:

“The weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life was when I went on a camping trip for school. It was when I was in grade 7, so I guess that would make it 2003. My friend Andy and I snuck off during the bonfire. We started to take a piss on a couple trees at edge of the forest. Andy got spooked because he saw somebody watching him inside the forest. I thought he was talking about a counselor in the woods so I zipped up my jeans and hurt myself while I did it. I was distracted because I saw what he was talking about. I thought it was just a deer or something. It came closer to me with its arms bent at a funny angle. Its face had a long nose that was covered in like a cloth. It only had one eye and it was empty. It was grabbing the air like there was something there but there wasn't. I ran back in to where Andy went. He was sitting down at the bonfire acting like nothing happened. I wanted to talk to him about it later but he didn't want to bring it up again. He thought it would get him trouble. Later he said that he didn't see anything. He only wanted to get away before someone noticed. But I know he saw it.

I haven't talked to Andy since I graduated two years ago.”

From Nolan

From Nolan: 

“My family lived in a rural community in south-eastern Manitoba for most of my childhood. When I was ten, during the 80s, my older brother Shawn reluctantly took me to the corner store to buy me candy. It was getting dark and my parents didn't trust me alone yet. When we got there, the shop owner's son, who was there as a cashier, started talking with Shawn about something. They were both around the same age, for all I knew, they could have been talking about girls which I really didn't care for at the time. I wandered up and down the aisles, and I remember being captivated by a video game magazine at the end of the far aisle. When I got back to the front counter, I couldn't find Shawn anywhere, so I went outside and still couldn't find him. I crept around the outside of the store and into the dense shrubs and trees that the shop backed onto. Something immediately caught my attention: a man-like figure bobbing its head up and down in the upper branches of a tree. It was grunting and in the fading sunlight, it almost looked like it was dancing or eating something. I started to back away, but it suddenly dropped out of the tree and stood in front of me. It smelled horrible, like a garbage can full of rotten food. When it stepped out of the shadows, I saw its face. It was kind of raggedy looking, but shrunken and stitched. It made me think of Frankenstein's monster with like a sack or something draped over its face and it brethed [sic] through a tube for a snout or beak. I turned away and ran. I think Shawn saw it too, because when he saw me, he ran as well. When we got back home, I think he told our mom and dad, and so I never mentioned it.

I made drawings of it several times during the months that followed. If I can find them, I’ll send them too you. I hope it helps.”

From Barbara

From Barbara:

"In 1961, my friends and I were about eleven years old. We were camping with my father down by the old brook just outside of town the day after a horrible storm had hit. It was inside of a large forest made up of mostly evergreens in western Ontario. My little sister, Marsha had gone off exploring, she was only six. My friends and I were right behind her before one of my friends got the leg of her overalls caught in a fallen branch that looked like it came off of a lightning-struck tree. It cut her leg open pretty badly and she started crying, but I knew that if my sister kept going, she'd get lost. I told my other friends to go back to the camp site and get my father to help them. Meanwhile, I chased after Marsha. I called her name and I didn't know where she had gone to. I was eventually getting desperate and I could hear my dad and the other girls shouting my name. I even heard my brother looking for me and calling me, but they were all far behind. I remember turning around to tell them I was okay, then I tripped backwards and fell into a puddle. I was soaking wet, and when I stood up, my nose was suddenly filled with this nauseating stench. It was like the dead porcupine my Uncle Jim had found under his porch in the summer of '59. It was sickly sweet, but salty like sweat. Suddenly, I felt Marsha grappling my dripping wet hand. She said something that sounded like “suhdeeder” – almost like “sedate”, except with an “e” sound instead of the “a” sound and an “r” at the end. She kept repeating it, and I didn't know what it meant. It sounded like baby-talk to me. I can remember asking her what she was saying and she pointed towards a dark cluster of trees just beyond the puddle. I heard a slow rattling noise and between the trees stood this dark figure. It had a something like a beak, but I couldn't tell if it was part of its face or a mask. It was gripping the tree bark with its long, winding fingers. It cocked its head to the side and began twisting its long limbs in a sort of dance-like manner as they hung from its shoulders. I screamed, turned around and ran with Marsha back to the camp site. We never told our father what we saw.

Marsha recently passed away due to heart problems. I never talked to her about the incident since. I only specifically remembered it as of late from finding a diary entry from that camping trip. Though, I can still sometimes make out the face of the thing in the woods during my nightmares. I think it's one of those sights that personify childhood fears of boogeymen. In the diary, I called it the “seed eater”, which I guess, is the best way of translating Marsha's babbling. I wonder if it ever came back in her nightmares too."