I grew up in that area (live in Maryland now), specifically, just about dead center between Vienna, Oakton and Reston. In 1979, my father bought 5 acres that he eventually built a nice home on. At the time, it was surrounded by other five acre lots and those were surround by 20-150 acre properties.
In the 80's, you could only shotgun hunt a parcel greater than 20 acres and only with DNR permission. Bowhunting was at that time, just about unheard of, but about to become a thing with compounds. Also, the deer herd at that time was NOTHING compared to what it is now - they were almost never seen. So for many years 10? 15? 20?, there had been almost no hunting pressure.
I bought a little three wheeler when I was about 15 and used it constantly, exploring the undeveloped woods like I was some sort of explorer, tracking fox in the snow, coming across deer tracks, but rarely seeing anything more than a distant white flag. Most of the deer I saw were those in Outdoor Life.
One day, I was rolling down our gravel road, and past an old gate to an over grown field. I glimpsed a buck out of the corner of my eye. I stopped, backed up, and sat on the three wheeler staring at the biggest buck I've seen in my life - up to that point and ever since. It must have been in the rut, because he just stood there, staring back at be, from 20 yards, for about 3-5 minutes. He eventually walked off, and I just sat there in a stupor, trying to digest what I'd just seen. In a minute or two, my dad came down the road on his way home from work. Pulled up, got out and looked at me like there was something wrong with me. I explained what'd I'd seen, but I know that he didn't quite get it.
I didn't know what had seen at the time, but learned later what a non-typical buck is. Those 3-5 minutes at close range gave me an opportunity to count, and recount, and rub my eyes, pinch myself in disbelief, and count again. 22 points. Massive, wide beams. Big grey roman nose. The thing that still strikes me today, is that while I know he was a non-typical, he didn't look it. Didn't look like a freak. Just looked like and old deer that had grown one hell of a beautiful symmetric rack. He is mythical in my mind to this day.
Over the ensuing years, large deer with incredible headgear became a common sight around the property and the population began to explode. Unfortunately my dad didn't hunt and would not let me shoot one. I know he regrets that now. Because by about 92, bowhunting was in full swing and some folks surely harvested some big bucks from that area.
I am sure that none of them were even close to that deer that I always called "monstro". I really doubt if anyone actually killed him. He probably died of old age. I'm pretty sure that had someone shot him, he would have been a P&Y or B&C buck.
I saw him once or twice again, but it was always fleeting, never like that day when I was 16 or 17. He was a giant.