The Bigfoot research community is still reeling from the loss of Dr. Jeff Meldrum, a scientist whose decades of anatomical expertise, fieldwork, and rigorous analysis elevated the conversation around Sasquatch from campfire tales to serious inquiry. Jeff’s passing has prompted an outpouring of heartfelt tributes, gratitude, and grief from researchers, witnesses, and enthusiasts alike.
Against this backdrop, Robert Kryder’s Facebook post is jarring. After a cursory “RIP,” Kryder pivots into an attempt at veiled celebration, suggesting that a “dam is cracked” and that “truth” will now “flood” the valleys cleared of “long-standing sediment of missinfo.” He even frames this moment as a shift to a “world of the ancient ape” where “relic human” can “enter the room.”
One would have thought Kryder would have absorbed some hard lessons after last week’s events. In a moment when the wider public is reckoning with how careless words can inspire division or worse, Kryder had a clear choice: show restraint and empathy, or double down. Instead, he chose to twist a respected man’s death into veiled double-speak, subtly celebrating a colleague’s absence because their views differed, and even using the moment to hint at his own political agenda.
What makes Kryder’s words especially distasteful is the unmistakable sense of celebration threaded through his post. Rather than simply offering condolences or expressing disagreement with Dr. Meldrum’s ideas, he used Jeff’s passing as an opening to declare that “the dam is cracked” and “truth seeps free,” as if a respected scientist’s death were some kind of victory for his personal narrative.
His framing—that long-standing “misinfo” has now been “cleared” and that “relic human” can now “enter the room”—isn’t just an observation about differing viewpoints. It reads like triumphalism: a public smirk at the removal of someone whose meticulous, science-based approach didn’t align with his own theories. In a moment when the community should be unified in mourning and respect, Kryder chose ego and opportunism over empathy.
Kryder’s invocation of “the world of the ancient ape” and “relic human” betrays a shaky grasp of the very concepts he invokes. In paleoanthropology, “relict hominin” is a term cautiously used to suggest the survival of anatomically modern or archaic human lineages—not a blanket label for every unknown primate report. To call Sasquatch an “ancient ape” and contrast it with “relic human” conflates two very different categories: non-hominin primates and members of the genus Homo.
Kryder further exposes his misunderstanding of basic anthropology and genetics when he casually labels Sasquatch a “relic human.” In biological and paleoanthropological terms, “human” refers specifically to Homo sapiens—our own species. A creature that, as reported in credible sightings and footprint casts, exhibits markedly different foot structure, limb proportions, and skull morphology would, by definition, represent a separate branch of the hominin family tree. Such pronounced anatomical differences imply significant genetic divergence—a DNA structure distinct from modern humans.
Meldrum understood and communicated these nuances, grounding his discussions in comparative anatomy and evolutionary biology. Kryder’s careless wording collapses those distinctions, revealing a lack of scientific rigor and a readiness to misuse terminology to bolster his narrative.
The idea that people “blindly followed” Dr. Meldrum is simply false. Researchers and enthusiasts did not follow him without thought or scrutiny; they respected him because he brought scientific insight and careful analysis to a field often mired in speculation. At times they also criticized him for his forays with Todd Standing. But I understand under the guise of science why he did. His willingness to apply academic rigor, even when unpopular, challenged everyone, including himself, to separate evidence from wishful thinking. That’s not blind faith; that’s intellectual honesty.
Disagreement is healthy. Differing hypotheses are essential to progress. But publicly framing a colleague’s death as the removal of “old lies” crosses a line. It dismisses the humanity of a man who dedicated his career to open inquiry and elevates personal grievance over the collective pursuit of knowledge. Perhaps Kryder is another one we should consider “canceling,” based on his lack of empathy, his celebratory prose of a fallen pioneer and egotism.
As the community mourns Jeff Meldrum, we should also reflect on the example he set: debate passionately, investigate rigorously, but respect those who share the quest for understanding—even when their conclusions diverge from our own. Kryder’s words are a reminder of what happens when ego overtakes empathy. We can, and must, do better.
Till Next Time
Squatch-D
Against this backdrop, Robert Kryder’s Facebook post is jarring. After a cursory “RIP,” Kryder pivots into an attempt at veiled celebration, suggesting that a “dam is cracked” and that “truth” will now “flood” the valleys cleared of “long-standing sediment of missinfo.” He even frames this moment as a shift to a “world of the ancient ape” where “relic human” can “enter the room.”
One would have thought Kryder would have absorbed some hard lessons after last week’s events. In a moment when the wider public is reckoning with how careless words can inspire division or worse, Kryder had a clear choice: show restraint and empathy, or double down. Instead, he chose to twist a respected man’s death into veiled double-speak, subtly celebrating a colleague’s absence because their views differed, and even using the moment to hint at his own political agenda.
What makes Kryder’s words especially distasteful is the unmistakable sense of celebration threaded through his post. Rather than simply offering condolences or expressing disagreement with Dr. Meldrum’s ideas, he used Jeff’s passing as an opening to declare that “the dam is cracked” and “truth seeps free,” as if a respected scientist’s death were some kind of victory for his personal narrative.
His framing—that long-standing “misinfo” has now been “cleared” and that “relic human” can now “enter the room”—isn’t just an observation about differing viewpoints. It reads like triumphalism: a public smirk at the removal of someone whose meticulous, science-based approach didn’t align with his own theories. In a moment when the community should be unified in mourning and respect, Kryder chose ego and opportunism over empathy.
Kryder’s invocation of “the world of the ancient ape” and “relic human” betrays a shaky grasp of the very concepts he invokes. In paleoanthropology, “relict hominin” is a term cautiously used to suggest the survival of anatomically modern or archaic human lineages—not a blanket label for every unknown primate report. To call Sasquatch an “ancient ape” and contrast it with “relic human” conflates two very different categories: non-hominin primates and members of the genus Homo.
Kryder further exposes his misunderstanding of basic anthropology and genetics when he casually labels Sasquatch a “relic human.” In biological and paleoanthropological terms, “human” refers specifically to Homo sapiens—our own species. A creature that, as reported in credible sightings and footprint casts, exhibits markedly different foot structure, limb proportions, and skull morphology would, by definition, represent a separate branch of the hominin family tree. Such pronounced anatomical differences imply significant genetic divergence—a DNA structure distinct from modern humans.
Meldrum understood and communicated these nuances, grounding his discussions in comparative anatomy and evolutionary biology. Kryder’s careless wording collapses those distinctions, revealing a lack of scientific rigor and a readiness to misuse terminology to bolster his narrative.
The idea that people “blindly followed” Dr. Meldrum is simply false. Researchers and enthusiasts did not follow him without thought or scrutiny; they respected him because he brought scientific insight and careful analysis to a field often mired in speculation. At times they also criticized him for his forays with Todd Standing. But I understand under the guise of science why he did. His willingness to apply academic rigor, even when unpopular, challenged everyone, including himself, to separate evidence from wishful thinking. That’s not blind faith; that’s intellectual honesty.
Disagreement is healthy. Differing hypotheses are essential to progress. But publicly framing a colleague’s death as the removal of “old lies” crosses a line. It dismisses the humanity of a man who dedicated his career to open inquiry and elevates personal grievance over the collective pursuit of knowledge. Perhaps Kryder is another one we should consider “canceling,” based on his lack of empathy, his celebratory prose of a fallen pioneer and egotism.
As the community mourns Jeff Meldrum, we should also reflect on the example he set: debate passionately, investigate rigorously, but respect those who share the quest for understanding—even when their conclusions diverge from our own. Kryder’s words are a reminder of what happens when ego overtakes empathy. We can, and must, do better.
Till Next Time
Squatch-D
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