Show notes
Tonight's episode is going to be a little different. There's no power in the TDSR studios here in Camel City, so we were a little limited in our editing, but I hope you enjoy the episode anyway. Everybody stay safe, stay dry, and hopefully, the power will be back on soon. Thanks!
Hey, welcome back to That Don't Sound Right. I'm Cecil. Hey, this is Peter. It's good to be back. I want to give a shout-out to the whole That Don't Sound Right community. Thanks for listening again and for being with us on another day, whether it's Sunday, Saturday, or maybe even Tuesday. Thanks for being here.
Special shout-out to our Canadian listenership. It's great. Y'all keep listening. Buy a t-shirt and spread it around up there in Canada. We might have more listeners in Canada than the United States by the end of the year. That'd be awesome.
So this is season number two, right? We're going to call this season number two. We were talking about that. We may go ahead and have season number three start in September on the anniversary of the first live episode. It’s completely arbitrary, but it helps with organization.
Back in the Camel City studios in Camel City, which is always fun. Always fun to be here, sipping on our favorite beverage. If you get a chance, go and get one of these pint glasses from That Don't Sound Right. We're still working on some of the design details, but they're pretty cool. They turned out okay. It's something to sit down and have a drink with a friend.
Last time, we were talking about cryptozoology. I have got a cryptic—or is it a cryptid? A cryptid story. Thanks again, Mac, for all the information you provided on that last episode. This is a personal story of a cryptid.
My family is originally from Cary, but my parents are from Bladen County, North Carolina, near the coast and close to the South Carolina border. In the 1950s, a beast appeared in that area, attacking dogs and livestock. The carcasses were found drained of blood, leading to rumors of a vampire beast.
The beast gained national attention, and a famous hunter with his dogs came down to track what was now being called the Beast of Bladenboro. Despite the efforts, nobody ever got a clear picture of the beast, though there were encounters and aftermath sightings.
My grandfather killed a bobcat, which the authorities presented as the Beast of Bladenboro to calm the public. Though the legend still persists, the town now celebrates the Beast of Bladenboro with a festival featuring a 5K, a parade, and t-shirts. It's a fascinating piece of local lore with personal connections to my family.
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