THE BEAST OF BOGGY CREEK: The True Story of the Fouke Monster (22 page)

Everyone in the group stood somewhat aghast, adjusting to the foul odor and trying to figure out what kind of skeleton it was that lay before us. I ran through a quick list in my mind. Human… no; dog… no; deer… no; horse… no; bear… I don’t think so; ape… maybe. Smokey explained that it had been found just south of the Arkansas border in Texas. I amended my list of possibilities to include more of the indigenous wildlife such as armadillo, beaver, and coyote, but the skeleton was far too large to be any of those. Cougar, perhaps? Yes, cougars had been known to inhabit the area, but still it looked too massive even for the largest variety of Southern mountain lion. I was at a loss for a reasonable explanation. All that was left at the moment was to consider the possibility that it had belonged to something more unique… something as yet
unexplained
. Was I looking at the skeletal remains of a Fouke Monster? My nerves tingled at the thought.

Naturally the group began to ask questions and Smokey finally gave us a brief rundown of the back-story. The skeleton had come into his possession nearly 20 years earlier, back in 1991. Two men had discovered the carcass near the border of Texas and Louisiana. It was headless and skinless, but otherwise in good shape for remains. The men were familiar with the stories about a mysterious creature that stalked the woods near Boggy Creek and remembered the name Smokey Crabtree. Thinking that the skeleton could perhaps be that of some unknown animal fitting the general description of the Fouke Monster, they collected the corpse and immediately contacted Smokey.

Intrigued by the news, Smokey made his way to Vivian, Louisiana, where the skeleton had been relocated. After looking it over, he agreed that it resembled the Fouke Monster and thought it would be a good idea to preserve and subject it to further testing. Smokey entered into an agreement with the men that gave him a full one-third share of any future profits from the skeleton, as well as the right to show it publicly. Smokey went on to tell us that the remains had been examined by several university professors and scientists, and that some basic DNA tests had been run to the tune of nearly $10,000 dollars. The only definite conclusion they could make was that “it wasn’t human.” He had theories as to what kind of animal it might be, but he stopped short of going into further detail.

I turned my eyes back to the Plexiglas coffin before me. The headless animal lay on its side with its legs extended and its knees slightly bent. Its arms were sprawled out in front, bent slightly at what would be considered the elbow. Its back was to us, as it faced—so to speak—the rear wall of the case. I looked closely at the hands and feet. They looked elongated and primate-like, at least to my untrained eye. There were four fingers on each of the hands and four toes on each foot, with the feet looking to be at least 14-16 inches in length. I tried to estimate the creature’s height if it were standing beside me. It would be roughly seven or eight feet tall… the same as the reported height of Fouke’s mystery creature. I looked closely at the shoulder blades, which folded inward with the narrow frame of its ribcage. Given that anatomy, it would conceivably have walked in a hunched fashion… if it were to walk bipedally. Again, just as some of the sighting reports had described.

The desire to take a photo burned within me. My cellphone was handy, but I have too much respect for Smokey and therefore honored his wishes, despite the paparazzi urge. Smokey explained that one reason he couldn’t allow photos was because of the legal agreement he had with other interested parties. The skeleton itself was strange, and it was evident that the circumstances surrounding it may be just as odd.

I looked at the carcass one last time and turned to join the rest of the group as they made their way back through the trail of “antiques” toward the exit. The doorway glowed on the far side of the building as sunlight spilled inward with copious amount of airborne dust. As I stepped out of the darkness and returned to the warm sun, I felt as though I had seen something rare and special. Something that was hidden from the world, tucked away in a small corner of obscurity on the edge of commonly accepted science. In a way I felt honored to have seen it. As if I had been given a rare glimpse behind a magic curtain. It may sound melodramatic, but the whole experience was very surreal at the time, given my lifelong interest in the Fouke Monster and general love of all things creepy and mysterious. I might have thought it to be a mere dream, if not for the foul smell that still lingered in my nose.

Strange Remains

At the time I saw Smokey’s skeleton, I had not yet been overcome with the idea of writing a book on the Fouke Monster. At that point I was looking into the local “Bigfoot scene” out of both personal curiosity and as research for some articles I was writing for the popular horror magazine,
Rue Morgue
. By a strange set of circumstances, which I jokingly refer to as
destiny
, I had scored a freelance position with
Rue Morgue
to cover cryptozoology-related horror movies, so naturally I was eager to brush up on my Fouke-lore since rumors of a
Boggy Creek
remake were circulating at the time. If there was anybody qualified to cover the new movie, and to perhaps write an accompanying retrospective on the original
Legend of Boggy Creek
, I felt that would be me. So I considered myself fortunate to have been able to visit with Smokey and to have seen his skeleton, of which I had only heard rumors about prior to that day.

After a bit of research, it didn’t take long to find out that the skeleton had long been a source of mystery, debate, and misinformation among Bigfoot researchers worldwide. Threads about the subject could be found on various cryptozoology internet forums and a handful of other sites having to do with general Arkansas folklore or the Fouke Monster itself. The postings ranged from unanswered questions to incomplete theories, to outright wild guesses and incorrect details. The exact composition of the specimen had never been determined, or at least divulged, so to the average cryptid enthusiast this was an important lingering question. And rightly so. The possibility that somewhere in the winding woods near Fouke, the skeletal remains of an undocumented ape-like creature might be locked away was promising. We’ve all seen numerous grainy video clips of alleged Sasquatch, while researchers have turned up various strands of suspect hair, countless plaster casts of giant feet, and the occasional sound byte of a howl, but rarely had an actual bone been brought forward—much less a nearly complete skeleton—that, even for a scant moment held a real grain of hope that it was from such a creature. So with the monster-filled reputation of Fouke behind it and the association of the Crabtree name, it was only natural that rumors of such a specimen would spark widespread interest.

But as I continued to dig for answers and ask around, I started to wonder why there was still so much debate and misinformation over the issue. Not only does Smokey cover the topic in one of his books, but amazingly, the skeleton is the centerpiece of a low-budget documentary called
The Hunt For Bigfoot
, produced in 1995 by none other than Jim McCullough Sr. of
Creature From Black Lake
fame. In addition, I have been able to track down old newspaper articles that provide convincing details as to the true origin of the mystery skeleton. Granted, all of these are hard to come by—the book is mostly available through Smokey himself, the documentary is extremely rare and hard-to-find, and the news articles have been all but lost until now. It’s also why I found myself standing in a room with the skeleton without much foreknowledge of its existence.

The story of the skeleton actually begins in November of 1991. According to a news article that ran in the
Marshall News Messenger
out of Marshall, Texas, the remains were initially discovered on private property near Karnack, Texas, by James Mackey and a friend. Mackey, the owner of said property, had stumbled across the shocking sight on November 27. According to the report, Mackey quickly notified the Harrison County Sheriff’s Office, which sent Captain Frank Garrett to investigate. Upon seeing the bones, Garrett arranged for them to be picked up within 24 hours and examined. But in the meantime, Mackey’s 17-year-old nephew decided it would be a better idea to transport the bones to Vivian, Louisiana, for safekeeping just in case they were from some undocumented animal, such as the one that had been seen around Fouke. The teenager, apparently aware of the legend of Boggy Creek and Smokey’s association with it, contacted Smokey and told him what they had found. Smokey quickly made his way to Vivian in order to evaluate the discovery.

Once there, it is evident in both Smokey’s account and the newspaper accounts that he was impressed enough with the gruesome specimen to pursue partial ownership of it. Though its feet were not likely to have made the so-called three-toed tracks that had become associated with the Fouke Monster, the skeleton had enough similarities with it to pursue the question. According to an article printed on December 11 in the
Texarkana Gazette
, Smokey had this to say: “I told them that it looked like it had some historical value since it resembled what’s been seen around here. It had enough human features that I felt it needed to be preserved.”

Smokey didn’t jump to conclusions but made no bones about the fact that he wished to keep it. As he states in his memoir,
Too Close to the Mirror
, “It was evident to me that the skeleton was the nearest thing to being the remains of the Fouke Monster that I had ever seen.” As a result, he proposed a three-way deal of ownership with the teenager and another unnamed man. The three men signed an official contract saying they would split the money in case it did turn out to be something of unexplained origin and somehow turned a profit.

The skeleton was then transported to Fouke where Smokey began a process of trying to preserve it as best he could. [13]  One of the steps was to build the glass enclosure, the very one I had seen. Another was to have it examined by a scientist from the University of Arkansas in Little Rock in an attempt to identify the animal involved. Unfortunately, nothing came of his initial visit despite the fact that the scientist took samples for proposed DNA testing.

Since the late 1980s, Smokey had been running a local event called the Monster City Jamboree. The jamboree was a music show that took place every Saturday night in a converted grocery store that Smokey owned on the north end of Fouke. The show featured a house band that played country tunes for a crowd sometimes numbering as many as 500. By the early 1990s, the jamboree had become so successful that it was, as Smokey put it, “the number one show in the four states area.” Because of this built-in audience, Smokey decided it would be a great way to raise money for the scientific testing of the skeleton. He had sealed the glass case, so as to minimize the foul odor and help with preservation. That also made it reasonably fit for public appearances.

After some additional preparation, he began to show the remains at the jamboree to anyone willing to fork over three dollars. A good many music fans stayed late to see the moldy old skeleton, but for the most part it only caused problems because of the morbid subject matter. As well, the news media descended on it like human flies clamoring to get the skinny on the animal, be it a monster or otherwise. News stories began to air on both Texarkana and Shreveport television stations, although bereft of any photos since they did not have permission from Smokey to show an image of the skeleton. In this case, the subject matter was left up to the imagination of the viewer.

1991: Strange remains found in the woods approximately
44 miles south of Fouke.

The public exposure led to other oddball inquiries, one in particular coming from a person claiming to be a representative from the Smithsonian Institute. Two men also showed up claiming to be the original owners, but Smokey sent them all away empty handed. The scene was reminiscent of the old days when monster hunters had, not once, but twice wrecked havoc on Smokey’s personal life and property as they tried to track the monster. Such is the price of being a local celebrity, one might say, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with the backlash.

Reluctantly, Smokey was forced to return the skeleton to its quiet slumber behind locked doors. He was still no closer to a final determination as to its identity, although rumors about its true nature had been flying since the beginning. It was only a matter of time before the cat, so to speak, would be out of the bag.