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A few years ago, my wife
and I were invited to a dinner by

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old friends. The family are Lds
and have the tradition of inviting local Mormon

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elders to their home on Tuesday nights
for dinner. It is a special treat

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for these young men who have chosen
to leave home for two years to spread

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their faith. Upon arriving, we
were introduced to the two young elders.

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The surprise for me was that one
elder Lux was from Springhill, Louisiana,

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which is just ninety miles from my
hometown of Monroe. We had a genuinely

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nice hour or so of visiting and
talking about home. We had much in

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common, even though he was in
his early twenties and I was in my

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early seventies. I asked Elder Luck
if he was born in spring Hill and

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was very surprised to find that he
was originally from falc, Arkansas, which

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was forty one miles away. Of
course, this immediately prompted me to ask

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if he had ever seen the Foult
Monster, which was featured in the seventies

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movie The Legend of Boggy Creek and
other books and newspaper articles over the last

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many decades. Elder Lux replied that
he had not seen the creature, but

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that his father had on two occasions
years apart. As a very young boy,

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he and his family, who lived
alongside Boggy Creek, had on a

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few occasions experienced some strange and frightening
moments, which they attributed to the creature.

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As our conversation was getting into more
detail, Elder Lux and his partner

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had to leave because they had another
engagement for church business that night. We

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reluctantly set our goodbyes. Our friend
and host promised to have them over again.

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As the elders left, I was
wired and in full investigation and interrogateation

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mode. I had been aware of
this creature for many years, and my

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thirty plus years as a police officer
had me compiling a list of questions so

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I could obtain more details at our
next visit. That visit came a couple

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of weeks later, when Elder Lux
and his partner revisited our friend's home to

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do some genealogy work with the help
of his wife, she runs the local

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LDS Family Research Center. As she
helped Elder Lux's partner, he and I

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sat down and I got to ask
more questions about this time in Foulk.

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This is the story of the first
encounter of Elder Lux's father, William Bill

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Lux Junior, and a little information
about the area they lived in in their

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homes unique location. This description will
help with understanding the story of the second

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encounter of the creature and finally,
the family's experiences. Elder Luxe's grandfather,

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Bill moved to Falc in the mid
nineteen thirties and bought twenty acres of land

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about three miles south of Falk on
Arkansas Highway seventy one. This was the

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main north south route from Louisiana to
Arkansas. The property was heavily wooded,

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as was most of the land around
Falc at the time. This thick forest

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area was interspersed with fields of beans, cotton, corn, and other crops

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grown in that fertile area. The
Lux property was fronted by Highway seventy one

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on the west side. The northeast
and south sides were heavily wooded. Boggy

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Creek ran through the Lux's property east
to west. It flowed under the Highway

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seventy one bridge, which spanned the
creek and continued west to the Sulfur River.

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Mister Lux built his home about three
hundred feet north of the creek and

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two hundred feet from the highway.
It is not known if mister Lux was

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aware of the creek's connection to the
fabled creature who used it to traverse the

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country. It was nineteen fifty nine
and mister Lux Junior was eighteen years old

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and home on Thanksgiving vacation from his
local high school. That day in late

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November, it was the day after
Thanksgiving, in the first day of deer

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season. Bill was hoping to get
a little hunting in that day, but

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his father had other plans. Projects
around the farm kept him busy until almost

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noon. When he finished, he
made a sandwich and stuffed it into his

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pocket of his hunting coat. He
grabbed the World War II surplus M one

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garand rifle he bought from Sears and
Robot for twelve dollars and placed two eight

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round M one charger clips into his
hunting coat pockets and grabbed a small thermos

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of coffee and then threw it all
into his old Ford truck. The three

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family dogs had seen this scenario before
and were looking forward to the hunt the

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first of the season, but Bill
could not take them on this day.

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He was already getting a late start, and dark came early in the late

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fall, especially in the thick woods, this would be a still hunt.

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It was chilly as he drove towards
his destination, an old pipeline cut that

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ran north south through heavy woods about
ten miles east of Bill's home. Most

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of the leaves had been blown from
the trees by the cold winds. The

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grass was brown but still high on
the pipeline. Bill had first seen the

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cut one summer when fishing from the
highway bridge that crossed it. He had

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noticed that several deer crossed it during
the hours while he fished. He had

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made a note to give it a
try come deer season. It was about

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half past one pm when Bill reached
the cut. He crossed the bridge and

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parked his truck off the highway.
He took out his rifle, grabbed his

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thermos, stuck it in his hunting
coat pocket, and crossed the road to

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the north side of the bridge and
looked over the cut. It was much

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lower than it looked from the bridge. It was about three hundred feet wide

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and miles long, disappearing into the
distance. He understood why the oil companies

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used small airplanes to inspect the cut
and check for leaks. Once on the

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flat ground of the cut, he
loaded his rifle with eight cartridges and began

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walking north away from the highway.
The stiff, knee high weeds and grass

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made quite a bit of noise as
it rubbed against his thick canvas hunting trousers.

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He moved to the south side of
the cut, nearer the tree line,

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looking for a good place to hold
up and do his hunt. About

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a half mile from the road,
he found a place where he could see

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easily in both directions, and if
necessary, safely fire back towards the highway.

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Bill could see well from his vantage
point, about ten feet into the

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brush off the side of the pipeline. It was quiet. A wind high

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in the trees was rustling the leaves
that had not yet fallen. An hour

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passed, nothing moved except an occasional
car on the highway half a mile away.

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He ate some of his sandwich and
drank a little coffee to warm him

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up. He noticed the shadows of
the trees above him were getting longer as

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they moved over and away from his
side of the cut. It was now

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near three point thirty pm. He
had been there two hours. He thought,

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I cannot wait much longer. It
was getting cold, and he didn't

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want to be getting home at dark. There would be evening chores to do

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and supper. He would wait another
half hour and then he would leave.

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Something moved on the other side of
the cut, which was still in the

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late afternoon sun. Bill didn't move. He estimated he was about two hundred

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yards away to the south of what
attracted his attention. Now it moved again,

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he could see it. It was
a deer. It was a dough.

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She trotted out of the woods and
then turned her head and looked back

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as if she was waiting, and
in a moment another dough joined her in

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the cut. They moved cautiously further
into the open, constantly checking behind them.

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Then like a shot, both turned
and sprang into full run and into

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the woods on Bill's side of the
pipeline. They were trying to get away

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from something, possibly a buck.
Bill thought mating season for white tail deer

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as October through December in the south. Bill waited and thought, oh,

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let it be a big buck.
Shortly he saw more movement where the deer

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had come from. Whatever it was. It did not come out completely into

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view, but enough for Bill to
see that it was darker and not the

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color of a deer. A few
seconds later, it walked out into the

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edge of the sunlit trees, and
it was not a deer. It was

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upright like a man. It was
dark brown from head to toe. Its

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arms were longer than a man's,
and it was tall. Its knees were

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much higher the grass, which came
to Bill's lower thighs, and it was

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not overly heavy. It looked up
and down the cut slowly, like one

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would do before crossing a street,
and Bill froze. And then it started

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at a fast walk and crossed the
cut in a noticeably short time. It

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was going the same direction that the
deer had gone. Bill stood there for

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some time, and he thought,
what was that? At no time did

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he ever think about shooting at it? And then he thought where did it

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go? Did it continue through the
woods after the deer, or did it

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turn north away from me or south
towards me. Suddenly the cold did not

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bother him. Bill listened as hard
as he could, but he couldn't hear

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anything. It was big and fast, surely if it were coming his way,

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he would hear the rustling of the
dry leaves all around him. He

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decided he needed to get out of
there. It was getting on close to

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dark and he did want to be
there. Then Bill decided to head back

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towards the road, but walked at
the edge of the trees, thinking maybe

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there could be another one across the
cut and it would see me if I

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were in the open. But the
going was slow and noisy through the edge

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of the woods, so he decided
to move into the center of the cut.

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At least he would have some warning
if it came out, maybe have

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a bit of time to defend himself. Bill moved to the center of the

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cut and he started walking fast,
continually turning his head like it was on

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a swivel rifle at the ready,
safety off, and around. Chambered all

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the way back to the truck.
His heart was pounding, he was sweating

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from fear and exertion despite the cold
air. Once he made it to the

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road, Bill turned back, using
his higher vantage point to see if he

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was being followed, but he saw
nothing. He walked to the truck,

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threw his loaded rifle into the cab, something he never did, and then

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he drove home. When Bill got
home, he unloaded the rifle, checked

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with his dad to let him know
that he was back, and started on

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his evening chores. He said nothing
to his family about what he had seen

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at supper. When asked if he
had seen any deer at the cut and

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if he thought it might be a
good place to hunt, he only said

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that he had seen too dough and
he didn't think he would be hunting there

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again. According to Elder Lux,
his father did not talk about his sighting

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until several years later, when he
overheard others at the Foult General's store talking

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about and increased sightings of the creature. When he did talk about the incident,

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it was only to his family.
In nineteen sixty five, Bill saw

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the creature again. This time it
was closer to home, and this time

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he was not alone. Six years
had passed since Bill Lux Junior had his

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sighting on the Pipeline Cut. He
had not gone back there since that time,

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and a lot had changed. His
father had passed away, leaving Bill

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to support his mother and two sisters
and run the farm alone. Bill took

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a part time job and fout to
make ends meet, and Bill also got

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married. He along with his new
wife and younger sister, lived in a

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house that his grandfather built next to
Highway seventy one and alongside Boggy Creek.

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Bill's oldest sister had married a few
months earlier and moved to spring Hill,

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Louisiana with her husband. Bill's mother
spent most of her time in spring Hill,

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which is forty miles away. Locally, there was more talk of sightings

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of the creature and of footprints left
in beenfields, as well as strange cries

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back in the deep woods and along
the network of creeks around Fout. There

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were also reports of damaged fences and
buildings, as well as missing farm animals.

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On Saturday afternoon in January of nineteen
sixty five, Bill was working on

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his old truck, which was parked
in the front yard just a few feet

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from his front door. His youngest
sister and his wife were in the house.

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Bill had his head under the hood
of the old vehicle, trying to

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discern its latest malady. It wasn't
until his little feist dog had gotten between

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his feet that he noticed its shaking
and whimpering. Bill looked around and he

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saw nothing, thinking it was frightened
by another dog, a skunk, a

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raccoon, or any matter of critter
that passes through the farm at times,

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but he still didn't see anything.
Bill returned to his work, but the

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dog continued to whine. Bill looked
under the truck and he saw nothing.

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He walked around the truck and saw
nothing. He then noticed the dog was

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staring off across the road, which
was about two hundred feet from the front

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of the house. Bill looked carefully
at the tree line just on the other

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side of the pavement. There,
next to a large oak tree and somewhat

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in the shadows, was something stooping
down watching Bill and the dog. He

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could tell it was large because of
the size of the tree it was near.

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Bill tried not to give away the
fact that he had seen it,

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and he scolded the dog and moved
back to the front of the truck where

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he could look through the lower windshield
and rear window to the woods on the

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other side of the road. It
was still there, this time, it

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appeared to be sitting and watching.
Bill called out quietly to his wife and

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his sister, asking one of them
to bring him his rifle, which he

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kept beside his bed, and to
put it just inside the open front door.

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Bill explained what was happening, and
he told them to carefully look out

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the window towards the large tree across
the road, and they both saw it.

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Bill picked up the little dog and
went into the house and he closed

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the front door. After a delay
only a minute or so, he looked

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through the blinds of the window.
The space next to the tree was empty.

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Bill picked up his rifle and went
from window to window, checking all

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four sides of the house in case
the creature came across the road onto the

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property, and he saw nothing.
Bill estimated that the creature had been watching

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him for twenty minutes. The dog
had been whining for at least ten minutes

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before Bill checked on him and saw
the shadow next to the tree. This

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was the last time Bill saw the
creature, but not the last time it

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would bring fear into their home.
Over the next nine years, sightings continued

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around Falk and reached a peak in
nineteen seventy four that got to the point

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where Bill installed floodlights on the corners
of his house that would illuminate the yard

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for some one hundred feet away.
He had the local power company put a

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light pole in his front yard with
a bright light that would burn all night,

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trimmed down the grass in small trees
for two hundred feet around the house.

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For Bill and his family, there
would be more occasions when they felt

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afraid. Each started much like the
last. Always at night. The three

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family dogs, which slept outside the
house and were known to chase anything on

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four legs, would begin wailing and
barking and bashing into the front screen door,

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warning to get in. One of
the family would open the door and

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almost get knocked down by the dogs, who would go behind the couch or

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under a bed. The door would
be locked, blinds would be drawn if

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00:16:34,399 --> 00:16:40,600
they weren't already, and all four
spotlights would be turned on. Bill and

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00:16:40,679 --> 00:16:44,200
one of his sons would pick up
their weapons and go from window to window

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00:16:44,320 --> 00:16:48,679
while the rest of the family sat
quietly in the center of the dimly lit

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house. The progress of what was
moving around outside could be tracked by watching

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00:16:53,639 --> 00:17:00,840
the dogs. Their noses always pointed
towards boggy creek had slowly turned, following

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what they were hearing and smelling.
Once it was gone, they quit shivering

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and they came out from their hiding
places. In the year two thousand,

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00:17:11,480 --> 00:17:15,400
Bill and the family decided that they
had had enough of farming and of the

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00:17:15,440 --> 00:17:19,759
small town, uneasy life of Falk. They followed Bill's sister and moved to

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00:17:19,799 --> 00:17:26,279
spring Hill. They joined the LDS
Church there and later the elder would be

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00:17:26,440 --> 00:17:32,319
born. Sightings around Falk continued into
the nineties, and on occasion they happened

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00:17:32,400 --> 00:17:37,559
still today. The old farmhouse Bill's
grandfather built is no longer there. It's

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00:17:37,599 --> 00:17:42,599
been replaced by a single wide trailer
far back away from the road. The

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00:17:42,640 --> 00:17:47,559
fields are there too, but most
of the timber around the old Lux farm

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00:17:47,640 --> 00:17:53,079
is now cut and the field grows
rows of soybeans. Old Highway seventy one

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00:17:53,240 --> 00:17:57,440
still there, although the new highway
has been built to speed along those folks

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going from Louisiana to Arkansas. And
the creek Boggy Creek is still there just

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as it has been for centuries,
and the creature will. Some of those

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who still live around Fout say he's
still out there too.