THE BEAST OF BOGGY CREEK: The True Story of the Fouke Monster (9 page)

But even with Shaw’s prominent position in the First Baptist Church, he was unable to influence a change in city-wide policy regarding observance of the Lord’s Day. By the time he was up for re-election as pastor in 1879, several matters of dissatisfaction within the church and without led him to resign. So he founded the short-lived College Hill Baptist Church and later converted to a Seventh Day Baptist. After five more years of preaching against work on Sunday, Shaw ultimately concluded that perhaps Texarkana was not the best place for him and his flock. It was then that he made a decisive move to establish a religious colony outside the sinful grip of the big city.

To accomplish this goal, Shaw and fellow churchgoer John E. Snell purchased land from George Fouke 16 miles south of Texarkana. There they proceeded to layout the town just as the American frontier was coming to a close in 1890. Using his own self-published newspaper called
The Sabbath Outpost
, Shaw promoted the fledgling colony as a place where family, God, and education came first. In many regards, Fouke was a unique town that exemplified the pioneer spirit of early America along with the age-old struggle for religious freedom. It is worth noting that Fouke is one of the few towns in the United States that was started with the purpose of providing a religious haven. However, it would not be without its share of outlaw tales and controversy. It was, after all, a part of the Deep South during the formative years of expansion, a time that inevitably brought forth all kinds of unswarthy people—and apparently, hairy monsters.

Boggytown

People were said to have begun settling in the areas around what would later become Fouke as early as 1830. The creeks and rivers provided ample resources to establish small homes, and the steamships that began navigating the Red River in 1831 served to create an ever-growing lifeline of transportation. Wagon roads began to spring up as well, connecting small hamlet-type villages with the greater Texarkana network.

The coming of the railroad 50 years later brought with it a host of men eagerly seeking fortune. Among them was George Fouke, who arrived in 1875. He and his father-in-law had their eye on the abundance of lumber available in the Miller County area and sought to capitalize on it.

Reverend John F. Shaw, founder of Fouke, Arkansas.
(Courtesy of the Miller County Historical Society)

Mr. Fouke and his family took up residence in Texarkana, and within a decade he entered into business with two other men to form the enormous Gate City Lumber Company. The company, with its main plant based in Texarkana, manufactured all types of finished wood products for the growing construction industry. At the time so many people were building houses and other structures that the lumber business was extremely lucrative. But in order to supply the raw wood needed to pump out so much finished product, the company had to rely on the resources from the outlying woods… including those near a little waterway called Boggy Creek.

In no time, the Texarkana, Shreveport, and Natchez Railroad line was extended into the woods, connecting several lumber giants, including Gate City Lumber, to the seemly endless natural resource. The railroad plunged into the dense woods, eventually terminating at Boggy Creek. According to the Miller County Historical Society, “Its waters would serve invaluably in the preservation of pine logs until they could be sawed up. The stream would also provide steam resources for the big sawmill and planer engines.”

This “big sawmill” is the Boggy Mill, which was constructed on Boggy Creek for the purpose of manufacturing the lumber on the spot, as it was cheaper to transport finished pieces back to Texarkana than the raw logs. So from 1890 to 1904, the Boggy Mill served as the main source of materials for Gate City Lumber, making Boggy Creek’s contribution to the industry a significant one.

Along with the construction of such mills, settlements known as “sawmill towns” would spring up. Like mining towns, these lumber towns would appear quickly and often disappear just as quickly when the gold—or in this case, lumber—dried up. But in the case of the Boggy Mill, which ran strong for approximately 14 years, a fairly solid establishment was able to flourish. Known as Boggytown, it not only had a catchy name, but it was large enough to warrant its own post office. According to the Miller County Historical Society, its population “varied between two hundred and five hundred during its fourteen year history.”

The Historical Society also lists several prominent town members and mill workers, including planer manager Will Crabtree. The Crabtree family will later come to play a significant role in the Fouke Monster sightings, so it’s interesting to note that they were living in Boggytown during that era.

Boggytown was located near the point where Boggy Creek crosses old Highway 71. Standing there today, it’s hard to imagine that at one time a little town bustling with gambling establishments, saloons, hotels, stores, and a post office thrived at the lonely spot, since not a single trace of it remains. Apparently, the Arkansas landscape hides evidence of its ghost towns well and, presumably, its monsters, too.

And indeed I could find no historical sightings, or even rumors, of a hairy monster stalking Boggy Creek during the heyday of Boggytown, despite the increased human presence in the area. It wasn’t until after the demise of the Boggy Mill in 1904 that people began to hear whispers that something strange may be lurking there. Perhaps it was coincidence, or perhaps it was the result of encroaching deforestation, that began to draw the monster out of the bottoms.

As I mentioned previously, Willie Smith went on the record claiming that his sister had seen the monster around 1908 in the vicinity of the old Boggytown location. After some further research and interviews with locals, I discovered that the sister Smith referred to is Kate Savell. I had heard of Kate’s sighting, and when I mentioned Smith’s claim, I was told that his sister and this woman were one and the same. I have spoken to other anonymous sources who claim that someone else—possibly a member of their own family—was the source of this sighting, dating it at around the same time, between the years of 1904 and 1910. Understandably, it’s hard to pin down an exact date or a precise recollection a century later, but suffice to say, one or possibly more incidents occurred at the end of the Boggytown era that could be attributed to our mystery animal.

Another sighting occurred in 1916, although in this case it took place approximately 19 miles west of Fouke near Wright-Patman Lake in Texas. While it may seem like a considerable distance, it is worth noting that the incident took place near the origin of the Sulphur River, which is part of the larger waterway network that includes Boggy Creek. The story was reported by a retired geologist whose grandparents lived in a place called Knight’s Bluff west of Queen City, Texas, and just south of the Sulphur River. Today there is still a campground on the edge of Wright-Patman Lake called Knight’s Bluff, but the true Knight’s Bluff was covered by water when the lake was created by the U.S. Army Core of Engineers in 1953.

According to the geologist, the incident happened on a summer night in 1916 when his grandmother was 18. She often told the story of what went on that night and the days to follow, so he and his family knew it well. On the night in question, his grandparents were returning home from town, navigating their mule-drawn wagon across the rough country roads. The moon was high and bright so visibility was good. As they turned onto the lane leading to their farmhouse, the mules began to act up as if they were spooked by something. Thinking that perhaps a snake was lying in the road, her father peered ahead, but saw nothing. A few seconds later they heard a strange noise coming from the east pasture, something like an eerie high-pitched wail or howl. The mules heaved as the family struggled to see what had made the noise. After a few moments, they saw a tall figure emerge from the dark line of trees adjacent to the field and walk out into the moonlight. His grandmother described it as being “tall or taller than a man and covered with long, dark hair.” She also noted that “it stood absolutely erect and walked slowly toward them like man… not slouching like an ape.”

As the creature moved across the field toward the wagon, it continued to howl, all the while motioning angrily at them with its long arms. By now the family was in a state of panic and shock. Seeing no other choice, the father reached for his rifle and fired once in the animal’s direction. The shot presumably missed the creature, but the crack of the rifle was enough to send it running back into the woods.

The father then enlisted enough cooperation from the mules to get the wagon back to the house, where the family promptly jumped out and scrambled for the safety of their home. Once inside, they barricaded the doors and spent the rest of the night in a state of restless sleep, wondering just what it was that they had seen. The following day and a few days thereafter, the men of the family, along with a few neighbors, scoured the woods near the pasture searching for any signs of blood, fur, or tracks, but nothing was ever found. The family never saw the mysterious creature again.

Back in the vicinity of Fouke, a handful of smaller communities such as Jonesville, Fairland, Fort Lynn, Lizarlope, Corinth, and others managed to outlive Boggytown and maintain a small-but-steady population of residents in the countryside. Accounts of the mystery monster during this time are hard to come by, but I did learn of one more which occurred around 1932. The story was told to me by John Attaway, a current Fouke resident. It involved a friend of his by the name of Ace Coker, who was living with his sister in a house near Fort Lynn, three miles due south of the old Boggytown site. As the story goes, he was sitting on the porch one day, while his sister was hanging fresh laundry on the clothesline. At some point he got up to go back inside the house. As he opened the screen door, he tilted up his hat, and there standing near the porch was a large, hairy man-like animal. It had apparently been able to slip up to the porch without making a sound and was now eyeing him curiously. Startled, Coker hurried into the house before looking back again. When he turned around, the thing had already moved out by the fence on their property, and from there it slipped out of sight.

There may have been other encounters in the first half of the 1900s, but since many people kept these types of things quiet and there was no media coverage, many tales have probably been lost. Attaway said that Coker did not like sharing his story, so presumably even this was not known about beyond a small circle of friends.

A group of happy citizens in front of the Fouke post office circa 1921.
(Courtesy of the Miller County Historical Society)

It would be several decades before stories of a monster began to register on any significant scale with the locals. But as the destruction of wildlife habitat continued in the wake of the lumber boom, it was only a matter of time before the creature emerged to haunt the growing number of intruders.