Some years back, we had a “Special Report” on Stanley Milford, an official law enforcement officer for the Navajo Nation on its massive 2,700-square-mile reservation spanning several states, Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona.
The reason for our interest: Milford, once the senior investigator for that nation’s white-collar crime unit, had for many years after partnered with another officer to form what they called the Special Projects Unit, whose responsibilities included investigating reports of the paranormal.
That’s right: the Navajos had a special unit to look into everything from ghosts and UFOs to possession, poltergeists, cryptids (ghostly cats, phantom dogs, “big foot”) to phantom hitchhikers.
Interviewing him left us with little doubt that Milford and his partner, Jon Doiver, were both good investigators and sober ones.
It also left no doubt—as evidenced in his can’t-put-it-down new book, The Paranormal Ranger—which has even drawn notice from The New York Times—that remarkable phenomena occur in that part of the U.S. to a chilling degree, no doubt propelled in large part by the arcane mysticism of Native American forebearers.
What we didn’t know was Milford’s intrigue with what the subtitle calls “The Unexplained” had roots in his own youth.
That included an astonishing experience with what Indian people know as a “skinwalker”: an allegedly shapeshifting creature or set of creatures that was the subject of a popular reality television show, “Skinwalker Ranch.”
This is supposedly an entity that is human (usually a medicine man or, take heed, “witch doctor”) but can transmogrify into various forms (read: demon).
One thing is without question: reports of paranormal phenomena are rife around Native American burial spots as well as former settlements across North America.
Not all of it is inviting.
Let’s hover here over just one anecdote in this book filled with them.
It occurred in 1986 when Milford was twenty years old and spending the summer with his father in Fort Defiance on the reservation.
That July night, he had gone to see “Maximum Overdrive,” a horror movie based on a Stephen King novel.
The movie let out at midnight, writes the ranger, and as he left, he’d spotted an elderly Navajo man sitting on a bench against the wall who asked for a ride. He was in his mid-eighties, not exactly the type to see in a movie lobby, especially late at night. Milford of course complied.
They hardly talked, but the guy seemed normal—except, recounts the ranger, when he asked to be let out on the side of a road that was nowhere near any house.
Soon after taking back to the long, lonely highway, Officer Milford sensed a movement out of the window on the passenger’s side. He expected to see a horse.
“But what I saw made no sense,” he asserts in the book. “Suddenly, this thing jumped the fence, coming within three feet of the passenger side of the car. The creature was white from head to foot and ran on all fours.
“Its overall form appeared like that of a greyhound, except much larger. It was about four or so feet tall to the top of its back. I couldn’t tell if its feet were actually touching the ground or not. It had canine-like features, including a long snout like a dog’s or wolf’s.
“But that was where the similarity ended.
“The creature was running alongside the vehicle, its speed and strength apparently limitless. It wouldn’t be left behind no matter how fast I went.”
And that was plenty fast—nearly sixty miles an hour. Then seventy.
“I looked away from the road to get a better look at it and immediately wished I hadn’t,” writes Milford of the white-knuckled ride. “This thing had a mouth full of long, jagged, gleaming-white teeth. It turned its head and looked straight at me. Its eyes were glowing a fiery yellow-orange like hot burning coals glowing in the darkness.”
The word “hellhound” (and hellfire) come to mind.
“Its lips were stretched backward in a sort of sinister grin, exposing its wicked teeth. It looked straight into my eyes like it was seeing right through me, into my soul. Its gaze was intelligent, sinister, hypnotic, and evil, and the message was clear: I could grab you, rip you into pieces, and eat you alive, if I chose, and there would be nothing you could do about it.”
There are certainly many such legends out west–especially alongside an old highway that runs through Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico that was once Route 666 (no kidding).
At any rate, what we do know is that the devil and demons can take many guises. Our holy angels protect us (especially when we invoke them).
Was this thing that “old man”?
When, breathless, Milford recounted the encounter to his dad, his father nodded sagely, with no indication of disbelief, and said what young Milford already suspected (and would later document as a ranger, as the book so mesmerizingly details):
“Son,” said his father, “you just saw a skinwalker.”
A fascinating read. The occult practices of Native American left behind much spiritual baggage. Good to cleanse.
For your prayer and discernment.
[resources: The Paranormal Ranger]
