| Oakland Tribune - July 31, 1973 |
There were a plethora of movies, books, magazines, comics, television specials, and, as is the case with today's subject, purported documentaries about Bigfoot and its many cryptozoological brethren that saturated the pop culture landscape of the mid-to-late 1970s and early 1980s. It got to the point where it seemed if one were to throw a rock between any two random trees, there was no way you would NOT hit a Sasquatch with it.
Although I was raised and have spent most of my life in California, I was born in Arkansas. My parents would take my brother and I back to visit friends and family in Arkansas every few years. Which proved and provided interesting and informative experiences in cultural difference to me.
During one trip I asked if it were at all possible to visit Fouke, just to see where the infamous (to me, at least) Boggy Creek creature was supposed to reside. My dad rolled his eyes and told me we were not going to waste a day driving to and from Fouke because, well, "That damn fool made the whole thing up."
While making a visit (or pilgrimage) to Fouke, Arkansas still tickles my monster kid fancy, I think that doing so may have been a ship which has already set sail, struck a reality iceberg, and sunk. So it goes.
But I can still dream, right...?