THE BEAST OF BOGGY CREEK: The True Story of the Fouke Monster (33 page)

By now, Liz thought better of any further investigation, feeling a surge of fear replace the initial whirlwind of excitement. The brief glimpse of the shadowy figure had given her the creeps. Knowing that it could still be watching them, she insisted they get out of there and only come back when it was daylight to investigate. Michael agreed as he spun the car around and hit the gas. He had no idea what he had just seen, but it was definitely something he could not explain.

The couple described the creature as being approximately seven feet tall, covered in dark hair, and running upright on two legs. Michael had the best view, but in the scant few seconds he saw it running, he was not able to make out any clear facial features. They did not “believe” in the Fouke Monster, but they had no choice to consider the possibility at that point. The shape, the size, and the way it moved ruled out most rational possibilities. Unless it was some joker in a suit, willing to sit in the rainy darkness and risk life and limb to run out in front of passing cars, there seemed to be no other explanation.

I interviewed Liz at length one day, as she went over the details of their strange sighting. I could clearly see the anxiousness on her face as she recounted the events of that evening. It was obvious that whatever they saw had a lasting impact on the young girl. She told me that they returned the following day to search for footprints or other signs of the creature but came up empty-handed. The pavement is lined by gravel and grass, so even though the soil was moist, there were no signs of its passing.

Black birds sit atop one of the many oil well structures in the Fouke area.
(Photo by Chris Buntenbah)

In the days immediately following the sighting, the couple was reluctant to tell anyone. After years of hearing stories at the Monster Mart, but always dismissing them with a smile, Liz now found herself in the opposite corner. Who would believe her and Michael? But in the end, they saw what they saw, and no amount of teasing would make them believe any differently. Eventually they began to tell their closest friends, and that’s how their encounter ended up being public knowledge. The legend was indeed alive in Fouke and running on two legs through the shadowy woods.

Conclusion

On my final trip to Fouke, I stumbled upon a perfect example of how the legend thrives beyond the confines of its namesake town. It was an unseasonably warm day in March when I pulled to a stop in the gravel parking lot of the quaint Miller County Museum with a couple of friends. We got out, stretched a bit, and then headed inside. The museum was rather busy with several locals chatting inside and a family of tourists gathered around the humble Fouke Monster display case to marvel at the various photos and relics.

I greeted the curator, Frank McFerrin, and after a minute or two, Frank introduced me to the visiting family, telling them of my book project. I shook hands with a nicely dressed man who introduced himself as Jerry Garcia, certainly an unforgettable name to anyone acquainted with another famous hairy guy from the Grateful Dead. Not to be outdone, I announced myself as Lyle Blackburn, the monster’s
biographer
. After a laugh and a few questions, Mr. Garcia introduced me to his wife and daughter, stating that they had come to Fouke because of their interest in Bigfoot and in particular, the Fouke Monster. The family was on vacation and since they would be passing near Arkansas, they agreed that it would be worthwhile to detour through Fouke. So after driving approximately 450 miles from the San Antonio area of Texas, they spent the day trying to find out more about the monster as they explored the countryside where it is said to roam.

I later saw the family taking photos of the mural at the Monster Mart, and it made me realize just how powerful the allure of the legend really was, drawing people from miles around to the little town of Fouke. After meeting the Garcia family, I knew that my work would be appreciated by many others.

The property where the Ford incident occurred.
The house is no longer there.
(Courtesy of the Miller County Historical Society)

Later that afternoon, with my friend and fellow researcher Jerry Hestand, I walked around the very spot where the Ford incident occurred almost 40 years ago to the day. The house was long gone, but this was still ground zero, the launch pad for a legend that has worked its way like a thorn into the greater lore of Arkansas. I felt a bit like the narrator in
The Legend of Boggy Creek
as he returned to the old house where he and his mother had first heard the monster’s horrible wail from the depths of the soggy bayou. It had been a long time since I had first seen the movie come to life on that big drive-in screen in the 1970s, but I can still remember how its haunting scream affected me that night.

In some ways I wasn’t surprised that my life had brought me to the very spot where the old Ford house had once stood, trying to imagine what had gone down that night so long ago. Essentially I was just another visiting tourist from Texas, an outsider to Fouke, but somehow I felt that I belonged, that it was my job to tell the whole story of this shadowy beast, which had grabbed my imagination as a kid and had never really let go. I looked at Jerry and we laughed at our mutual childlike fascination as we stood there. We were still in the clutches of the mysterious beast.

Nobody will ever be able to prove whether or not the Fords actually came face-to-face with an unknown creature that night in 1971, but it doesn’t matter. Mysteries are not about the end result, they are about thrills, chills, and
possibilities
. It is the pursuit of possibility and the exhilaration of the chase that rewards us, not just the end result. We may never find the answer to the question of whether man-apes, UFOs, and sea serpents truly exist, but that will not stop us from constantly re-examining the facts and trying to conquer the unknown because that is what we do as humans. We have an innate fascination for things we don’t understand, and that is a good thing. Mysteries are the catalysts of our progress, whether they lead to something earth-shattering or simple personal satisfaction.

The Fouke Monster may seem fantastic, but it is difficult to dismiss all the reports. Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable and some of the details are inconsistent, but regardless, there are many reports that just can’t be written off so easily. What about the multiple instances where an upright hairy creature was seen crossing the road by half a dozen people? What about the policemen who reported a similar sighting 20 years earlier? How about the Grammy Award-winning musician who saw a man-like animal running down a desolate part of Highway 71 years before the public knew of the legend? Or the sighting by Terry Sutton, a well-respected young man in the community of Jonesville who saw it walk by his family’s pond one evening? Having spoken to these people, and finding many of them absolutely sincere and credible, I am left with the opinion that they certainly saw
something
. And that seems to be the general consensus of those knowledgeable with the Fouke Monster phenomenon.

So as the sun sets over the lonely stretches of Boggy Creek, what remains is a story that thrills us, entertains us, and perhaps reminds us that we should never give up the search for new answers, even when we think we know everything about our world. We may not ever find proof of an unknown species of man-like animals living in this remote corner of Arkansas, but as long as someone somewhere continues to speak the name of the Fouke Monster, the legend will surely live on.

Endnotes

1 I later became aware of the so-called goatman of Lake Worth, Texas, which is much closer to my childhood home. However, as I child I was not aware of this monster since its brief wave of sightings were reported prior to the 1970s.

2 It is possible that humans migrated to the area earlier, but due to erosion and decomposition archeologists have yet to find any proof that Arkansas was inhabited prior to this.

3 The newspaper identifies Bobbie Smith as Willie Smith’s daughter-in-law, but this was incorrect. Local sources informed me that Bobbie was most likely a niece-in-law.

4 Mr. Phillips served in Miller County law enforcement from 1969 until he retired in 2006. He is intimately familiar with the Fouke Monster case.

5 Since writing this book, the Monster Mart has changed ownership. The latest owner, Denny Roberts, has made an effort to pay better tribute to the town’s infamous legend. If you visit the Monster Mart in the future, you may find a much improved Fouke Monster display than I found upon my initial research trips there.

6 I discovered J.F. Shaw while doing research on this book. Coincidently, my great-grandfather Malcolm Shaw lived and died in Panola County, Texas, which is a mere 93 miles from Fouke. Intrigued, I spent some time researching my family tree to determine if I might be related to the man. I could not find a recent link, but I did trace my family back to immigrants from Scotland, which is significant since Shaw’s father was of Scottish-Irish decent. Perhaps in the future I can locate a common ancestor, but for now it shall remain a curious footnote.

7 The Below bridge is located about seven miles south of Fouke on County Road 8. It goes over the McKinney Bayou. It is technically east of Jonesville, but can still be considered as part of the same general area.

8 Many news sources cite the year as 1963, but according to
Smokey and the Fouke Monster
the year was 1965.

9 Smokey had always dreamed of providing his family with their own home in the countryside. After purchasing the land, Smokey built his home by hand, then created a beautiful lake on the property by clearing the land and engineering a levee himself. The lake is officially recognized on the Arkansas map as Crabtree Lake.

10 The movie credits attribute the role of Mary Beth’s sister to Mary B. Johnson.

11 Not to be confused with the set decorator named Charles Pierce. The Internet Movie Database (www.imdb.com) lists his set decoration credits under Charles B. Pierce’s profile, but this is incorrect. This is one reason Charles B. Pierce always stressed the “B.” initial in his name to avoid confusion.

12 Allegedly, this was a three-toed track.

13 As with the sightings that are particular to the Crabtree family, I recommend reading Smokey’s book for more details about what transpired after the skeleton came into Smokey’s possession.