Watch This Before It Gets Deleted!! (Skin Walkers Are Real)

Skinwalker Ranch is a region of high strangeness situated deep within Utah’s winter basin. It first captured widespread attention following the reported experiences of the Sherman family during the mid 1990s. But the Shermans were not the first to own this land, nor were they the first to report that something was deeply wrong with it.
In this episode, we return to what has often been described as a kind of paranormal Disneyland and examine the strange and unsettling events that occurred long before the Shermans ever set foot on the property. Outside the window, Kenneth Meyers watched as the snowfall intensified into a full-blown blizzard. Gale Force winds drove the heavy flakes sideways, plastering them against everything they touched. It was the worst winter a region had seen in over a decade. The storm had rolled in behind a dense curtain of fog, cutting visibility down to barely 15 ft. As twilight faded into darkness, the cold seemed to seep into the house itself.
Kenneth shuddered as an icy draft brushed the back of his neck.
Instinctively, he leaned forward and fed another log into the struggling fireplace. An offering to the fragile gods of heat and light. In the kitchen, his wife had just finished preparing a pot of coffee and was carrying it into the parlor when a sudden knock echoed through the house. They froze. The children were accounted for, safe inside. Their nearest neighbor lived 2 mi away. The ranch itself spanned over 500 acres, sitting more than a mile from the nearest county road, accessible only by a muddy track now buried beneath a foot of snow. So, who could possibly be at their door? Kenneth rose slowly, uneased tightening in his chest. He glanced back at his wife, confusion mirrored in her eyes, before crossing the room and opening the door. Standing 10 ft beyond the threshold was a tall man dressed in a long black coat, unmoving against the storm. Snow gathered at his feet. Yet he did not seem to feel the cold. And at that moment, Kenneth Meyers understood.
Something had come to the ranch. He wore a dark, wide-brimmed hat, and his boots were half buried in the snow. A lantern hung loosely at his side, its dim glow barely cutting through the chaos of swirling flakes. Snow whipped around him in a frenzy, obscuring his face so completely that his features remained hidden in shadow. When he spoke, his voice was thin and distant, almost lost to the wind. He apologized for disturbing the household and explained that he was with the sheriff’s department, making rounds to check on residents during the severe weather.
Meyers assured him they were fine and required no assistance. Still uneasy, he asked how the man had managed to reach the house. There were no vehicles anywhere nearby, no tracks, no headlights, nothing.
Oh, we have our ways and means,” the man replied calmly. They exchanged a few more polite words before the stranger turned and began pushing forward into the storm, leaning into the driving snow. Meyers was just about to close the door when his wife scolded him for not at least offering the man a cup of coffee. Muttering under his breath, Meyers pulled on his boots and stepped back outside. The cold bit immediately at his exposed skin as he followed the stranger’s footprints, clearly visible in the fresh snow ahead. Through the shifting fog, he caught a brief glimpse of the man’s silhouette disappearing into a dense white bank. Meyers quickened his pace, determined to catch up. Then, without warning, a sudden flash of brilliant light erupted overhead. Startled, his first instinct was to look up, assuming it must be one of those rare phenomena he had heard about, thunder snow. But all he could see were snowflakes spiraling above him in a strange swirling pattern, almost like a vortex forming in the air.
Shaken, he gathered himself and continued forward. As he approached the inner fence line that bordered the Meyer’s homestead, he slowed to a stop.
His confusion was immediate and absolute. The footprints ended abruptly at the boundary of the yard. There were no signs of struggle, no diversion. No other tracks leading away. The trail simply stopped. It was as if the man had vanished mid-stride. Meyers scanned the empty white expanse, breath fogging in the air. Shocked, but not surprised.
Things like this happened here. They always had. Looking up toward the darkened sky, he muttered, “God damn this place to hell.” before turning back toward the warmth of his home in 2005.
Following the publication of Hunt for the Skinwalker by Com Keller and George Knap, a wave of skeptics descended upon the work. Eager to ridicule and dismiss both the accounts of the Sherman family and the findings of the Nid’s investigation team. It made little difference that the Niji’s researchers were highly qualified scientists, many of whom had entered the project as skeptics themselves. What mattered to critics was the perceived absence of video evidence conclusively proving that anything anomalous was taking place on the ranch. On the surface, this was a fair criticism. However, over time, this observation became distorted. A common belief emerged that the Nid’s team had failed to collect any evidence at all.
In reality, they gathered a substantial amount, much of which remains classified and securely held by Robert Bigalow to this day. Some of the material has leaked into the public domain and can be seen in the television documentary hunt for the skinwalker. Even so, the criticism remained relentless. One skeptic in particular, Robert Schaefer, went so far as to bend the truth in order to undermine the credibility of the investigation entirely. As part of his argument, Schiffer claimed that the family who owned the ranch prior to the Shermans had experienced no unusual activity during their time there. This assertion, however, is not merely inaccurate. It is demonstrably false.
Before the Shermans purchased the property in 1994, the ranch had been owned by the Meyers family. Kenneth and Edith Meyers acquired the land in 1934 and lived there for roughly 60 years.
While the Meyers themselves rarely spoke publicly about their experiences, friends, neighbors, and local officials have since come forward to recount what the family privately confided during their long tenure on the ranch. What follows are several of those accounts.
In the second season of The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch, a television documentary series focused on investigating the property’s enduring mysteries. A close family friend named Chris Porett appeared as a guest. Port had served as a deputy sheriff in Uenta County and became close to Kenneth Meyers through a shared love of horses.
Over the years, Porett was frequently called out to the ranch to investigate reports of missing or mutilated cattle.
During his appearance on the show, Porett was asked about the locks and chains the Sherman family claimed to have found securing doors, windows, and cupboards when they first moved into the ranch house. Port explained that Kenneth Meyers had once confided in him that the house was kept locked down because of repeated visits from unknown entities engaged in what Meyers described as alien activity. Items would go missing.
Livestock would be found dead or altered in inexplicable ways. On one occasion, Port was called to investigate an incident that had occurred less than 200 ft from the main homestead. Two black Angus cows were discovered lying almost symmetrically on the ground, their heads oriented toward an irrigation ditch.
Their reproductive organs had been removed and placed neatly behind each animal. The heads remained attached, but the skulls and neckbones had been extracted from within the flesh. There was no blood anywhere at the scene. Port was certain the animals had died exactly where they were found. Behind the bodies, investigators discovered a cigar-shaped depression in the grass measuring approximately 23 ft from end to end. The responding lawmen privately believed the impression may have been caused by something landing in the field behind the cows. Another incident, one that closely mirrored an event later reported by the Shermans, also occurred during the Meyers ownership. Once again, Porett was called to the ranch after Meyers reported that three of his heers had either escaped or been stolen.
Porett arrived shortly after sunrise, and the two men set out on horseback to search the entire property. By 5:00 that evening, they had covered the full acreage without finding a single track.
The cattle appeared to be gone.
Returning to the ranch house, Meyers reluctantly accepted what he assumed was a costly loss. As he dismounted, however, his horse suddenly became agitated near a small shed in the yard.
Moments later, Meyers called out to Porit, shouting that he couldn’t open the shed doors. Even using their combined strength, the two men could only force the wooden panels apart slightly, just enough for Poret to lean forward and look inside. What he saw left him stunned. Inside the shed were the three missing heers. All were lying on their sides, stacked one at top the other as if deliberately placed there, without a mark on the ground outside and with no explanation for how they had been moved. Meyers didn’t believe his friend until he looked inside the shed for himself. At first glance, he was certain the cows were dead. Porett, however, was convinced otherwise. He pointed out mucus draining from their nostrils, a clear sign that they were still breathing. Porit instructed Meyers to fetch a glass of water and pour it over the head of the nearest cow.
Though hesitant, Meyers followed the instruction. The reaction was immediate and violent. All three animals suddenly sprang to life, thrashing in panic and nearly demolishing the small shed once the doors were forced fully open. The cows bolted into the yard and quickly rejoined the main herd, as if nothing had happened. Poret later described the incident as one of the strangest things he had ever witnessed. He believed the animals had been drugged, much like the four Angus bulls the Sherman family would later find sedated inside a trailer. What troubled him most was the implication. Who could have tranquilized three full-grown cattle and stacked them one at top another inside a cramped tool shed without leaving any trace? Perhaps one of the most disturbing incidents during the Meyers era involved a young ranchand named Jimmy Spears. Spears was a drifter who arrived at the ranch in 1975 looking for work. Meyers took him on, and by all accounts, Jimmy proved reliable, hardworking, punctual, and trouble-free. One bright summer morning, Meyers sent him to repair fence lines in the southwest corner of the property, where the herd had broken through the night before. Meyers told him to do what he could and said he would join him later, as other matters required his attention. Jimmy set off and vanished.
When Meyers went to check on him around 1:00 that afternoon, he found several fence posts had been reset and Jimmy’s tools lying nearby. The young man himself was nowhere to be seen. At first, Meyers assumed he had wandered off briefly, perhaps to relieve himself or take a break. But as the minutes turned into hours, it became clear something was wrong. For a time, it was assumed that Jimmy had simply been frightened by something and walked off the job. 3 days later, he was found stumbling along a muddy road in the northwest of the property. disoriented, severely dehydrated, and barely coherent. When told he had been missing for three days, he became visibly distressed. He insisted he had no memory of the intervening time. One moment he had been working on the fence, the next, he said he awoke in a stuper behind the abandoned homestead, Jimmy eventually left the ranch for good, relieved to be gone, he later confided that he was plagued by a recurring nightmare. Every night, he dreamed he was buried alive beneath Homestead 2. Instances of missing time are not uncommon in accounts associated with the ranch. One particularly unsettling story was shared during an interview with journalist George Knap. It is unclear whether the young woman involved was Meyer’s daughter or an extended family member as the original Coast to Coast AM episode is no longer available. What is known is that the account came from a close neighbor of the Meyers family who was good friends with the woman in question.
One night, the two women had been in Roosevelt and were returning to the ranch at around 11 p.m. As they approached the main gate, red and blue flashing lights suddenly appeared behind them, assuming they were being pulled over for a routine DUI check. The driver slowed and waited for the officer to approach. Instead, the next thing they knew, it was morning. The sun was rising over the eastern horizon, and they were seated in the car at top the mesa, overlooking the ranch from the north.
The situation was deeply troubling.
There were no vehicle tracks leading up to the mesa from the ranch, and the rugged, uneven terrain made it impossible for a standard car to reach the location without severe damage. The vehicle had to be recovered using a tractor and flatbed trailer. To this day, neither woman has any memory of what happened during the six missing hours. The mesa was one of the few areas of the ranch that remained unfenced for decades. Until relatively recently, there were no gates or barriers restricting access to it. On a winter’s day in 1981, a young man named Roland M.
Cook was hunting rabbits and raccoons at top the mea with a friend. By afternoon, a heavy snowstorm had moved in. And with home still 2 to three miles away, the pair decided to take a trail down into Skinwalker Ranch and seek shelter. They headed for one of the buildings at the abandoned homestead. Homestead 2, as it is known, is widely regarded as one of the most foroting locations on the entire property. Homestead 2 had originally been used by the Meyers family, and it was here that they experienced their encounter with the mysterious man in black who knocked on their door during the brutal winter of 1948. Over time, the structure gained a reputation as one of the most active paranormal hotspots on the entire ranch.
It is believed this was the very reason Kenneth Meyers eventually abandoned the site and constructed a new homestead on the eastern side of the property. The original buildings have stood derelictked ever since, untouched for more than 70 years. When the two friends stumbled upon the abandoned structures, Roland felt an immediate reluctance to enter. Part of his hesitation stemmed from the fact that he knew they were trespassing. But more than that, there was something deeply unsettling about the dark, silent interiors. Still, the snowfall was intensifying rapidly. And after some persuasion, Roland agreed to take shelter inside the nearest building. As they stood just inside the doorway, watching the snow pile up outside, they heard a scurrying sound nearby. At first, they assumed it was a small rodent disturbed by their arrival.
But the noise didn’t fade. Instead, it grew louder, heavier. Then came a sudden crash from deeper within the building.
When they moved cautiously to investigate, they saw that several old tools had been knocked over. Moments later, another loud crash rang out. This time, from near the doorway, a stack of old clay pots had toppled and shattered just outside. Excitement replaced fear.
The boys now believed whatever was moving around was larger than a rat, likely a rabbit or raccoon. Having failed to bag anything during their hunt on the mesa, they saw this as an opportunity to salvage the day. They stepped back out into the storm and hurried around the side of the building, searching for tracks. What they found stopped them cold. Stretching out in the fresh snow was a trail of bare human footprints. For a split second, they tried to make sense of who would be running around barefoot in such freezing conditions. Then they noticed something else. After a short distance, the prince began to change, becoming indistinct before gradually transforming into tracks resembling those of a very large wolf or dog. As they stood there, frozen in disbelief, a massive wolf-like creature emerged from behind one of the outbuildings. It stood upright on powerful hind legs, towering nearly 8 ft tall. It let out a low, resonant growl and raised an arm pointing directly at Roland. Panic took over. Roland and his friend opened fire. The creature responded with a deafening roar before turning and fleeing into the trees.
Without hesitation, the boys ran, ignoring the worsening weather, sprinting back up onto the mesa and heading straight for home. That night, as Roland lay in bed, he heard Lo growling outside his bedroom window.
Then came the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against the wooden siding of the house. The torment didn’t end there. According to Roland, the experiences continued long after that night.
Even decades later, he maintained that whatever he encountered on the ranch had never truly left him. 40 years on, it seemed unwilling to let him go. As these accounts make clear, it wasn’t only the Sherman family or the Nid’s investigation team who experienced a wide range of strange and disturbing phenomena at Skinwalker Ranch. The stories stretch back decades and possibly centuries. People from all walks of life, including the Native American tribes who once lived on the land, have shared accounts tied to this enigmatic location. The activity did not begin with the Meyers family. It did not begin with the early homesteaders, and it certainly did not end with Nitts. In 2016, Robert Bigalow sold the ranch to billionaire real estate entrepreneur Brandon Fugal on the condition that investigations into the unexplained phenomena would continue. Since acquiring the property, Fugal has invited multiple scientists onto the ranch, including astrophysicist Dr.
Travis Taylor to study the anomalies reported there. These efforts eventually evolved into the television documentary series The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch, from which several of the accounts in this episode have been drawn. While the current team has not captured definitive video evidence of the phenomena, their instrumentation has recorded a range of anomalies, unexplained spikes in background radiation, intense and localized magnetic fields, and bizarre infrared signatures that defy easy explanation. Dr. Taylor has stated unequivocally that the convergence of so many anomalous effects within such a confined area is not something that occurs naturally. High altitude surveys have identified three distinct points across the ranch exhibiting unusually strong magnetic properties. These points form a triangular pattern, one which Taylor believes converges at a single location, possibly thousands of feet above the ground, either thousands of feet above the ranch or thousands of feet below it. And while Dr. Taylor has repeatedly emphasized his skepticism towards speculative explanations. He has acknowledged that such a configuration could, at least theoretically, create conditions capable of distorting space and time, something akin to a wormhole.
As part of his investigation, Taylor examined heat maps of major asteroid impacts spanning the past 100 million years. One of the most significant strikes to have occurred on the North American continent dates back roughly 10 million years. What makes this impact especially intriguing is its location.
The epicenter aligns closely with what is now modern-day Utah directly over Skinwalker Ranch. Further deep drilling operations on the property, revealed elevated concentrations of strontium and barerium, both of which possess radioactive isotopes. These elements were found alongside manganese, iron, aluminum, sulfur, and silicon, materials that also happen to be fundamental components in modern electronic systems.
This raises an unsettling question. Was the ranch shaped solely by an ancient asteroid impact? Or could something else have entered this region, depositing materials capable of interfering with electronics, magnetic fields, and even human perception? And if so, might these buried elements account for at least some of the anomalies reported on the ranch? When all is said and done, there remains no conclusive video evidence proving that anything extraordinary is taking place. And yet, despite this absence of definitive proof, the sheer consistency of witness testimony stretching back not just decades, but centuries, remains difficult to ignore.
These accounts continue to inspire all unease and fascination in equal measure.
The Meyers family never warned the Shermans about the strange events that occurred on the land. The Shermans themselves were outsiders, unfamiliar with local stories or folklore. And yet, both families describe remarkably similar phenomena. Over the years, countless skeptics have visited the ranch only to leave with no clear explanation for what they experienced.
To dismiss every account as fabrication begins to feel insufficient. In the end, belief is a personal matter. Either you accept these stories or you don’t. But what none of us can honestly claim is certainty, at least not without standing on the land itself. It has often been said that Skinwalker Ranch is unique, that no other place like it exists anywhere on Earth. Whether that is true remains an open question. But what is certain is this. The ranch continues to challenge our understanding of reality.
And until its mysteries are fully explained, it will remain one of the most unsettling and compelling locations on the planet.