Pekin, Illinois, May 25, 1972
“I’m telling you: It was about 10 feet tall, covered in dirty white fur, and it made a horrible screeching sound as it walked through the Illinois River.” The caller’s voice trembled as she spoke. “It was huge, and it smelled awful—worse than an outhouse on a sunny August day.”
“Alright, ma’am, we have a deputy in the area looking into the matter,” the dispatcher replied.
“How many of these calls do you suppose we’re going to get?” the deputy on duty asked.
“They’ve been coming in steady all night. I’d say we’re way over 100,” the dispatcher said. “Thank goodness, I’m about to end my shift.”
“That boy out on Cole Hollow Road really set off a firestorm,” the deputy noted.
It had been about a week since 18-year-old Randy Emert reported seeing a similar creature while out on Cole Hollow Road with his friends. The boys described the monster as being covered in white fur and standing about 10 feet tall. They thought the creature might be living under an abandoned house not far from where they encountered it.
Since Emert’s report, several others in the area had claimed to see the same type of beast. On this particular night, the reports were coming in nonstop.
The radio buzzed. A voice came through. “Still haven’t come upon any abominable snowmen out here. Over.”
The deputy picked up the receiver and pressed the button. “Well, you’ve got at least one more to check on. Maybe this will be the one,” he replied. “If you find him, tell him he’s visiting us during the wrong season. Invite him back in December.”
July 1972
“Alright, fan out people! We’re going to search every inch of this area. If there’s a bigfoot or any other sort of creature hiding around here, we’re going to find him tonight!” James Donahue, the Tazewell County Sheriff declared.
There had been so many reported sightings of the 10-foot-tall beast that the sheriff organized a search party. About 100 people in the community came to help look for the creature they’d started calling Cohomo, short for Cole Hollow Road Monster. Armed with guns, the mass spread out across the countryside.
They scoured the abandoned home where Randy Emert and his friends speculated that the creature might be living, but they found nothing more than a few empty beer cans. Sheriff Donahue doubted that the monster was responsible for leaving those there.
After hours of searching, a shot rang out. Everyone froze. Could it be that someone in the search party had found and shot the creature?
A voice came through the static on Sheriff Donahue’s walkie-talkie. “We’ve got a situation here.” The voice paused. “Carl Harris has shot himself in his own dang leg. Over.”
Donahue shook his head. “Alright, we’ll get a medic over there. It’s been a long day; let’s call it a night. Over.”
July 28, 1972
“Hello, we’re calling to report a Cohomo sighting.”
“Tell me what you’ve seen,” the dispatcher replied.
“My wife and I just saw it out in the woods. It was 10 feet tall, with a long face and U-shaped ears. When it opened its mouth to make this awful screeching sound, we saw it had sharp teeth. I’m telling you, it looked like a cross between an ape and a caveman. It even had thumbs!”
“You got close enough to see all that?” the dispatcher asked as she scribbled notes on a pad.
“It wasn’t far from us, maybe 20 yards. And the smell was overwhelming, like sulfur.”
“We’ll have an officer stop by shortly to check things out,” the dispatcher replied before ending the call.
Her supervisor looked at the note she’d written. “We actually have an officer in that area now. Someone called in earlier this evening, claiming to see the same thing out that way while picking berries by the old coal mine. She was so afraid, she ran off without her purse.”
“And the weirdness continues,” the dispatcher replied.
In 1991, Randy Emert contacted the Peoria Journal Star. His was one of the first reports of the Cohomo sightings in Illinois. Randy confessed that he and his friends had made their sighting up, hoping to scare a friend who worked the night shift at a local gas station.
However, there were hundreds of other sightings—too many for Cohomo to have been a hoax. Reports provided similar descriptions and details of the beast, and many of these eyewitness accounts came from reliable and respected local citizens. One sighting even came from an out-of-towner who had never before heard of Cohomo.
After July of 1972, the Cohomo sightings came to an abrupt end. There’s little doubt that these people saw something—but what? That question remains a mystery.