1883: The Year They Found Tartaria’s Giants And Erased Them

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The Lost Giant of Missouri

In the quiet, unassuming landscape of western Missouri, a farmer named John Hannon lived a life marked by the rhythms of the seasons and the toil of the earth. Little did he know that one fateful day in 1883 would change everything—not just for him, but for the very fabric of human history. As he plowed the fields, the relentless rains of spring had begun to erode the banks of a nearby ravine, revealing something extraordinary beneath the soil: the skeletal remains of a being that would challenge the very foundations of what humanity thought it knew about itself.

As John knelt beside the exposed bones, his heart raced. The skeleton was unlike anything he had ever seen. At a staggering 12 feet tall, it was a giant, a true giant. The measurements were precise: a skull with a circumference of 40 inches, ribs that were nearly 4 feet long, and thigh bones that stretched an astonishing 30 inches. This was not folklore or myth; this was a documented discovery, witnessed by local townsfolk who could hardly believe their eyes. The newspaper article that would later emerge from the Missouri Gazette was clinical in its detail, recounting how John spent days excavating the bones, carefully uncovering a complete human skeleton that seemed to defy all known science.

But what should have been a moment of triumph quickly turned into a haunting silence. After the initial excitement of the discovery faded, there were no follow-up articles, no scientific examinations, and no museum displays. The giant’s remains vanished into obscurity, leaving behind only whispers of what might have been. It was as if a collective decision had been made to erase this evidence from history, to sweep it under the rug of time.

John Hannon returned to his farming, but the weight of his discovery lingered in his mind. He had unearthed something monumental, yet the world seemed determined to forget. The silence felt deliberate, as if someone had decided that the existence of giants was a truth too dangerous to acknowledge. He often wondered why—why would anyone want to hide such a discovery? What truths about human origins were being suppressed?

As John continued his life, he began to dig deeper into the past, uncovering more stories of giants. He stumbled upon reports from across the globe: skeletons found in Lovelock Cave, Nevada, measuring 7 feet, with red hair; Catalina Island, where multiple skeletons over 9 feet tall were discovered; and even Castellnau, France, where bones suggesting heights between 10 and 12 feet had been examined by scientists before mysteriously disappearing during World War I. Each story echoed the same pattern: discovery, documentation, disappearance.

The more he learned, the more disturbed he became. Why were these findings always met with silence? Why did major institutions refuse to acknowledge the existence of these giants? It was as if a shadowy force was orchestrating a cover-up, a concerted effort to erase the evidence of a history that didn’t fit the accepted narrative of human progress. John began to feel as though he were part of a larger story, one that transcended his rural life and reached into the very heart of human understanding.

He recalled the oral histories of Indigenous peoples, who spoke of giants in their legends—Cherokee tales of a race of giants encountered upon their arrival in the Southeast, and Pyute legends of red-haired giants in Nevada. These were not mere myths; they were memories of an age long forgotten, now obscured by time and the prevailing narrative of history. The parallels between these legends and the documented finds were too striking to ignore.

Determined to uncover the truth, John sought out historians and archaeologists, hoping to share his findings. But each time he approached an institution, he was met with skepticism and dismissal. It was as if they were afraid to entertain the possibility that giants had once walked the earth. The more he pushed, the more he felt the walls closing in around him. The silence was deafening, and he began to realize that he was not alone in his quest for answers; there were others, scattered across the country, who had also encountered the same inexplicable patterns of discovery and disappearance.

In his search, John connected with a small group of like-minded individuals who shared his passion for uncovering lost history. Together, they pooled their resources, poring over old newspapers, archaeological reports, and personal accounts. They uncovered more stories of giants, more instances of skeletal remains found and then inexplicably lost. Each new revelation fueled their resolve to bring the truth to light.

But as they delved deeper, they began to feel the weight of resistance. Strange occurrences began to plague their efforts: documents went missing, leads dried up, and some members of their group faced intimidation. It became clear that they were not just fighting against ignorance; they were up against a powerful force intent on maintaining the status quo.

Despite the mounting pressure, John refused to back down. He felt a sense of duty to honor the giants who had been forgotten, to give voice to the silenced stories of the past. He believed that the truth was out there, hidden beneath layers of history, waiting to be unearthed. With each step forward, he felt the presence of the giants guiding him, urging him to continue the fight.

The group decided to organize a public lecture, inviting anyone interested in the subject. They prepared meticulously, gathering evidence and crafting their narrative. The night of the event, a palpable tension filled the air as they presented their findings. They spoke passionately about the giants, the architectural anomalies, and the strange patterns of disappearance. The audience was captivated, and for the first time in a long while, John felt a glimmer of hope.

But the moment was fleeting. The backlash was swift and severe. The media painted them as conspiracy theorists, and the institutions they had once sought support from turned their backs. The giants were once again relegated to the realm of myth and fantasy, their existence dismissed as a figment of overactive imaginations.

As John sat alone in his farmhouse that night, he felt the weight of despair. Had they truly made no progress? Had their efforts been in vain? But then he remembered the bones—the 12-foot skeleton that had once emerged from the earth, a testament to a reality that could not be easily erased. He realized that while the giants might remain hidden from the official narrative, their legacy lived on in the hearts and minds of those who dared to question.

With renewed determination, John vowed to continue his quest for truth. He understood that the fight was far from over. The giants may have been lost to history, but their story was far from finished. As long as there were those willing to seek the truth, the memory of the giants would endure, waiting to be rediscovered in the echoes of the past. And perhaps one day, the world would awaken to the reality of their existence, and the silence would finally be broken.