In the 1990s, a Kenai Peninsula resident named Kathy provided field testimony regarding a violent, point-blank raiding campaign executed against a nearby homestead where a mother was left alone with her young children while her husband worked the North Slope. Following a terrifying 45-minute screaming siege that occurred during a heavy rainstorm, the panicked mother recruited Kathy to investigate her layout. Arriving on-site, Kathy documented a scene of bizarre, calculated devastation: eight or nine homestead meat rabbits had been cleanly extracted from their pens, their heads severed with zero trace of blood splatter, and their limp carcasses laid out in a precise, uniform line on the mud.
The heavy welded angle-iron cages had been forcefully bent and crushed by an immense grip that cleanly ruled out a routine bear attack. Furthermore, every single chicken on the homestead had vanished without a single trailing feather or drop of fluid left behind. Shifting to the outbuilding, an enormous 2x12 structural beam anchored down with heavy spiral-shank framing nails had been cleanly torn from the support logs in a smooth, continuous pull that left heavy tracking stutter-lines in the soil.
Shifting to the winter fuel supply, a massive segment of the family's 16-cord firewood cache was missing; tracing the perimeter, Kathy discovered that giant chunks of green birch logs had been fast-pitched like missiles over a 100-yard distance into the timber line, violently gouging chunks of wood and bark off the standing forest trees. The extreme trauma of the un-investigated event and subsequent community ridicule ultimately drove local families to suppress the event for thirty years.
