In the winter of 1974, on a lonely stretch of fog shrouded road, a Wisconsin farmer had an inexplicable encounter with a clearly terrified, cow-like, humanoid entity that appeared to be sealed inside of a floating, semi-illuminated bullet-shaped chamber.
Not long after 10:00 pm. on the chilly evening of December 2, 1974, a 68 year-old Polk County dairy farmer by the name of William Bosak was driving south-east on his way home from a Co-op meeting in Frederic, Wisconsin. Being a practical man, Bosak had little time for foolishness regarding UFOs or aliens, so no one could have been more surprised than he when, during the course of his oft made journey; he had a run-in with a creature clearly not of this Earth.
The event occurred as Bosak was cautiously making his way through the low hanging patches of dense fog that hovered over the rural road that led to the 450 acre farm, which he had owned and operated for the better part of four decades.
Less than a mile from his home, at approximately 10:30 pm., Bosak was startled when his headlights suddenly caught the glint of a conical, capsule-shaped object that seemed to be hovering in the distance.
Bosak warily slowed his vehicle to a crawl to get a better look at the odd, more or less bullet-like device that appeared to be suspended just above the curb on the left side of the road. The lower portion of the machine was partially enveloped in the mist so the farmer could not be positive that the thing wasn’t perched on something, but it gave the impression of something floating.
As the anxious Bosak brought his car to a halt he noticed that the front of the nearly 10-feet tall and 3-feet wide structure had a window made of curved glass that exposed a brightly illumined interior compartment. It also revealed an odd creature quite unlike anything the elderly farmer had ever laid eyes on. In his own words:
“I can remember it just as if it were yesterday… [it was] a little taller than a tall man… I could see a figure with its arms raised above its head… he was looking out the window, and it was a different kind of character than you’d see on this earth.”
Bosak characterized its unique visage:
“It looked a good deal like a man, but it had a different-looking face than you’d see. It had a kind of a cow-looking face.”
Bosak went on to describe the bovine-like humanoid, which he intriguingly referred to as the “human” multiple times, as being covered with:
“Dark tan fur, except for its face and chin… [it] had a square face with hair sticking straight out from the sides, The ears stuck out from the head about three inches, and the eyes were large and protruding… the ears were calf-like.”
Some descriptions suggest that the fur was not actually attached to the creature, but had been woven into a skin-tight fabric of a tannish-brown color that clung to the being’s torso like a diving suit.
As striking as the creature’s appearance may have been, what struck the frightened farmer most of all was how apprehensive the thing in the chamber seemed to be. Bosak later noted that he considered the creature to be:
“…just as scared as I was.”
Although the interlude of eye contact between the confined creature and Bosak lasted for perhaps ten seconds; to the farmer the moment seemed to stretch into minutes. When the mid-westerner finally got over the initial shock of the encounter he blinked and suddenly found himself overcome with fright.
In a state of near panic, Bosak slammed his foot down on the accelerator and sped away from the bizarre beast and the floating shell that was either protecting or incarcerating it.
Just when he thought he had left the object of his distress behind, Bosak noticed that the light inside his car had inexplicably grown darker as if he were suddenly surrounded by an amorphous, shadowy shroud. Then the sound of his engine began to fade as the beam of his headlights dimmed.
It was then that Bosak heard “a kind of soft whooshing sound” followed by a scraping noise not unlike branches scratching against the roof of the car. The justifiably terrified senior just pushed the pedal closer to the floorboard and, safety be damned, barreled through the wispy fog until he reached the shelter of his home.
Once on his own property, Bosak managed to calm himself down, and from this higher vantage point he gazed down to where the creature and the bullet-shaped cylinder were situated, but he was unable to see anything through the pea soup below.
Bosak — no doubt fearing for his reputation or perhaps even his sanity — decided not to share his experience with anyone; not even his wife and son. Bosak:
“I was so goldarned scared I was afraid to go out at night for a few days.”
The next morning, Bosak ignored his wagon-load of duties on the farm and immediately returned to the location of his encounter. Needless to say, in the light of day, the object and the so called “human” were nowhere to be found. Unfortunately the only evidence of his encounter was a circular patch of flattened grass 6-feet in diameter below where the object had hovered.
Bosak managed to keep his silence for over three weeks, but eventually confided in his wife and son. He told them that the more time that elapsed since the incident the more he began to regret his actions; feeling that he should have stayed and attempted to communicate with this potentially extraterrestrial (or perhaps inter-dimensional) being. He told them:
“I wished that somebody had been in the car with me at the time… I should have stopped and tried to show it I was friendly. I wish I could meet up with it again.”
Whether it turned out his family was unable to keep this secret or if he himself spread the tale, it didn’t take long for word of Bosak’s run-in with the cow-like critter in the glass case to spread throughout Polk County, and soon after a story about the incident appeared in the St. Paul Pioneer-Press.
Following this exposure, Bosak was approached by Everett E. Lightner and Dewey Berscheid, a field investigators from the Wisconsin based Aerial Phenomena Research Organization (APRO), a UFO research group founded by legendary UFO investigators and authors, Jim and Coral Lorenzen.
Bosak told investigator that the illustration that had been published in the St. Paul Pioneer-Press was essentially accurate, but that the ears of the entity were located higher up on the head.
Lightner and Berscheid conducted extensive interviews with Bosak, his family, friends and neighbors, and all expressed that despite the implausible aspects of his story they believed William Bosak to be an honest man who had an excellent reputation in his community.
Considering just how bizarre his encounter was, Bosak understood the skepticism on display by his neighbors and local reporters, but he insisted that no matter how strange his testimony may seem it was the God’s honest truth and that, if need be, he’d be willing to prove it:
“You know how the neighbors are. They questioned it. The editor in town didn’t believe it… I’m sure a lot of people are going to be skeptical after hearing what happened to me. But if people don’t believe me, I’ll take a lie detector test to prove this isn’t just something I made up.”
He went on to say:
“There are other people that had seen something like that; right in this area.”
Who these “other people” were and what they allegedly saw has, sadly, remained beyond the scope of our research.
In a strange footnote to this already odd case, when this story began to be chronicled in ufological and cryptozoological literature it became known not as a peculiar, hairy beast shielded in an amazing, seemingly technologically advanced object, but as an example of a “bigfoot piloting a flying saucer.”
This is strange considering that Bosak himself compared the being to a cow (a subject with which he was intimately familiar) and not an ape, and furthermore expressed his belief that it was not an indigenous entity (either known of unknown), but some sort of extraterrestrial.
In the decades since this encounter there has been a plethora of speculation as to the identity of the humanoid being in the bullet-shaped capsule. Theories as to what this thing may have been have ranged from extraterrestrial emissary to intergalactic fugitive or possibly even a highly evolved, time traveling descendant of the cows that once populated Bosak’s own farm.
Poignantly, though one hopes unrelatedly, William Bosak was found dead in his home at the age of 90 on December 2, 1996, exactly 22 years to the day of his brief, yet life altering, encounter with the unknown.
Rob Morphy is an artist / journalist / filmmaker / graphic designer / crypto historian / podcaster / co-founder of American Monsters, Cryptopia and Cryptonaut Podcast