This is the story of the scariest monster you've probably never heard of.

Haunting this swampy creek in Southern Arkansas is a Bigfoot-like creature that's been infamous to locals for over a century.

This is the legend of the Fouke Monster.

[tense music] This cryptid became a sensation in the 1970s, reaching its peak with the pioneering horror docudrama called "The Legend of Boggy Creek."

The film became a drive-in hit and helped cement the Fouke Monster as a modern American legend.

But to the locals of Fouke, this was more than just a legend or myth.

It was a very real unexplained creature lurking in the nearby woods and swamps.

What was that?

I don't know, but let's get out of here!

[tires squealing] (Emily) In the decades following this film's release, investigators, enthusiasts, and locals have hunted the mystery in Fouke, looking for proof that the creature was real, but the monster remained elusive and the national spotlight eventually moved on.

More than 50 years later with the monster's moment of fame in the rear-view mirror, the question still remains: What happened to the Fouke Monster?

I'm headed to Fouke to hear directly from the locals who live here.

What do the townspeople make of this creature now?

Do they still believe in the Fouke Monster?

[eerie music] (speaker) Can't explain it.

I've been a Bigfoot believer ever since it happened.

I go out there looking when I get a chance.

(speaker) As an investigator, you look at the plus, you look at the minuses.

I never say, well, I believe in it or I don't believe in it because the facts are there.

I've seen some crazy animals.

That wasn't no animal.

That big, that tall, reddish brown long hair.

People will say they have sightings.

I don't know, maybe they smoked the wrong kind of cigarettes, but I'm not ready to call all of 'em a liar.

[eerie music] (speaker) One day, my mom and her dad and my dad and my friend, Karen, she was like a sister to me, were in the pickup truck.

It was on this road.

And Karen and I were sitting there talking, leaned up against the cab of the truck.

And we passed this one big tree and it stepped out.

[ominous music] And it turned and looked right at us.

And we were banging on the back glass of the truck, trying to get them to stop.

We got down to the store and I jumped outta the truck and I said, "Mama, that thing Grandpa said he saw, we saw it."

And she got nose to nose with me and said, "You keep that to yourself.

"I know what we went through when Papa said he saw it, and I'm not going through that again with you."

There's no telling how many times we walked through those woods right by it and didn't see it.

It could have snapped us like a twig.

It's massive.

After Karen and I saw that, I looked at her and I said, "Our trips to the woods are over."

(Emily) Eyewitnesses describe a Bigfoot-like figure about seven feet tall, covered in thick, matted hair that obscures most of its face.

Many say it emits a foul stench like rotten meat.

Some folks have compared it to an orangutan, but the three-toed tracks it leaves behind don't quite line up with that theory.

There were always rumblings of sightings of a strange creature, but like Reba's family, the townspeople typically kept quiet for fear of being ridiculed.

[downbeat music] (Reba) Back in that day and age when Grandpa saw it, everybody said, "Oh, he was just drunk on his own stuff."

But no, that wasn't it.

His story never changed.

And he got to where he wouldn't even talk about it because people made fun of people.

I had an argument with one of my uncles because he was accusing me of making money off my story.

I said, "I know you've got a Bible in your truck "'cause you have one everywhere you go.

Bring it.

"I'll put my hand on it and swear to what I saw."

And I don't do that lightly.

I've not made a penny off of this.

I'm telling my story because it needs to be told.

I want to know what it is.

I want somebody to find out what it is.

In 1851, the weekly "Arkansas Gazette" published the first documented account, describing a gigantic hair-covered creature that chased down a herd of cattle.

You can find stories dating back to the mid 1800s in old newspapers that talk about these upright hair-covered, what they would call "wild men."

I began working in '69 and in sandy marsh, when it all busted.

It's unusual when you approach something that you've never been exposed to before.

Perhaps the most infamous encounter happened nearby at the site of the old Ford house in 1971.

The Ford and Taylor families had recently moved into a small rental home together where something seemed off from the start.

They began to hear eerie footsteps creaking on their porch, as if someone or something was trying to break into their home.

After several restless nights, all hell broke loose.

Around midnight, Elizabeth, who was sleeping in the front room, woke to see what looked like a bear's paw with thick hair and claws forcing its way through the window, its glowing eyes piercing through the darkness.

"They looked like coals of fire, real red," she said.

"It didn't make any noise except you could hear it breathing."

Several shots were fired at the creature to no effect.

[phone ringing] The family made a frantic call to Fouke Constable Ernest Walraven, who searched their home for an hour to no avail, leaving them another shotgun just in case.

After the constable left, the men stood guard on the porch.

It wasn't long until they heard the creature again, this time trying to kick in the back door.

After firing several more rounds, the group believed the creature fell to the ground.

But as they crept toward where it had fallen, they heard blood-curdling screams from the house behind them.

Bobby Ford hurried back.

While climbing a ladder to get to the porch, he felt a hairy arm grab him.

He later recounted, "Next thing I knew, we were on the ground.

"I finally broke away and ran around the house "and through the front door.

"I was moving so fast I didn't stop to open the door.

I just ran through it."

When the police arrived, they found broken glass at the front door, evidence of recent gunshots, and a disoriented Bobby Ford, who was later taken to the hospital for scratches and treated for shock.

The harrowing story was published in "The Texarkana Gazette," soon spiraling into a nationwide frenzy.

[searchers talking] A search for the monster quickly swept through the town.

Hunters and curiosity seekers flooded the woods, and a reward was even offered for the monster's capture.

That was really what got the attention.

And then every time there'd be a report somewhere, it'd go to the media; when it went into the media, here come people on horses, guns, and all that.

That upset the local people, and it really boomed.

The incident at the Ford home was immortalized a year later in the film, "The Legend of Boggy Creek."

[dramatic music] The 1972 horror film was a passion project helmed by first-time director Charles B. Pierce.

Before that, my dad's TV show was called "The Laugh A Lot Club."

Some people go, "Ha ha!

You making a movie about Bigfoot?"

It kind of spurred him on, to be honest with you.

[upbeat music] (Emily) Pierce lived in nearby Texarkana, and was hearing all about the legend from locals.

The film spent most of its modest $160,000 budget on film stock and processing.

Pierce pulled locals to act in the movie, including his own wife and kids.

Shot on location in Fouke and the surrounding area, the film features documentary-style footage and reenactments, blurring the lines between reality and myth.

(children) The Fouke Monster!

(child) Oh, you know there isn't anything down there.

(children) There is!

(Pam) I was in the third grade when I filmed my scene.

And my teacher came to get me and told me that my uncle was there to pick me up from school.

He said, "Your dad needs you."

I got there, and I'm trying to ask him what's going on, and he's avoiding me.

I kept asking him, "Are we gonna see the monster?

Are we gonna see the monster?"

That's when he really took off and didn't answer me, but that is a real scream when the creature steps out.

[people screaming] Were you just totally surprised?

You had no idea what was coming?

I was surprised, yes.

[tense music] (speaker) The director Pierce's son that was the opening scene, and he was about my age.

And watching him run through that field, out in the woods, those were my woods out behind my house.

And it was one of the few films that my dad took me to at the drive-in.

It scared the pee out of me.

I went through a phase after Boggy Creek where I literally, like, wouldn't wash my hair.

I was like, man, I know that if I close my eyes, I'm gonna look up and the Boggy Creek creature's gonna be looking at me, you know, through the window.

[glass tinkles] (Lyle) The drive-in had one of those old metal speakers.

And I just remember the thing was just rattling, you know?

[creature roars] I jumped up in the front seat, and I was on board for this.

When Ed and I were talking about "Blair Witch" and talking about "Legend of Boggy Creek," he said, "We wanna make people feel the way we felt when we came out of that movie."

(Emily) Pierce risked his own to give the film the grand opening he felt it deserved, renting out Texarkana's historic Paramount Theater in August of 1972 for the movie's premiere.

"The Legend of Boggy Creek" beat the odds and became a smash hit, making over $20 million and becoming one of the top-grossing movies of 1972.

The film's unexpected success pushed the Fouke Monster far beyond Arkansas, transforming a small-town story into a national phenomenon.

The film's approach also had a lasting legacy.

Its hybrid of documentary and drama paved the way for the docudrama and found-footage horror genre.

I probably wouldn't be talking to you right now if it wasn't for "The Legend of Boggy Creek."

It just had a lot of the same DNA as "Blair Witch."

It was, you know, low-budget and self-financed and self-distributed, and, like, people didn't want it at first and became this kind of phenomenon.

So we felt proud to kind of carry on the tradition that he started.

(Emily) The woods are eerily similar in both movies.

You can feel the creepiness.

(Eduardo) And if we captured even just a little bit of that magic that it brought in "Blair Witch," that was really our goal is to creep people out in the same way that "Boggy Creek" had creeped us out.

[eerie music] It's odd to see your family's story played out on the screen, 'cause all of those folks are gone.

You know, you get to see them again, but then you know they're not here.

So it's kind of bittersweet.

It gave Grandpa's story a lot more validation.

People thought bad of him for a long time, even after he was gone, because of what he said he saw.

And he was a sweet man.

[curious music] (Emily) After the film's moment passed, the hysteria for the Fouke Monster did too.

The drive-ins chased the next sensation and the national spotlight drifted to other topics.

The story faded from the headlines.

The monster seemed to disappear from America's imagination, but the question is, did it disappear for the residents of Fouke?

Most people just thought this was something that happened in the '60s or '70s, and that was pretty much it, but there's a long history of sightings.

And once the sort of heyday of the movie died down,s the people were still having sightings down there, but they just weren't reported widely.

(Emily) So you've heard it, you've seen it.

Has it interacted with you in any other way?

[Reba laughs] Leaving me gifts, I guess you could say.

I'd come out here and sit down to smoke a cigarette and talk to my sister-in-law on the phone.

When I get off the phone, I go straight to bed.

Well, the next morning when I get up, the first thing I do is let Cooper and Bella out.

They run out and I look down and there's antlers laying here, right here on this bottom step.

He left them for me, I guess.

Something did; it wasn't my dogs.

But something left them here.

(Emily) For the residents of Fouke, the story didn't end neatly and the legend continues to grow, perhaps even bigger now with each new story.

What's the general sort of reaction to the Fouke Monster today?

It's mixed.

Forty years ago, it was the opposite way.

I mean, you'd get ridiculed so bad, people just won't talk about it.

Today's era, there's a lot more notoriety in it, a lot more interest.

Not only tourism, but a lot more people thinking, "Well, what's going on?"

Perhaps the biggest draw for monster enthusiasts and tourists from across the country has been the Monster Mart.

There's not hardly a week goes by that there's not somebody from out of state coming in.

So I knew I'd hit on the right thing.

I think it turned a negative thing into a positive thing for our community.

The town celebrates the Fouke Monster Festival each year, gathering cryptid enthusiasts from across the country.

Me and my father-in-law go every year.

There's people from all over the country that comes.

We're the only two that's pretty much from this area that's at it.

(Lyle) While I'm looking at this these days from a more serious, adult perspective, there's still some portion in me that's that fascinated little kid.

And that's true for the people who come to this festival.

(Reba) People think the stuff at Monster Mart is just a money making thing.

Yeah, they're gonna make money off of it if they can.

Of course they are.

People make money off the Lizard Man, the Mothman.

I mean, you know, it's a gimmick to a point, but it's based on a real thing.

[eerie music] Karen saw it.

She drew what's on the front of the Monster Mart from what we saw.

And they're so human-like.

What we saw was like a giant hairy man.

My sister-in-law says he's pissed off 'cause I moved into his territory.

And I kinda think that.

But he's gonna have to live with me if I'm gonna have to live with him.

And he can stay out there and I'll stay up here, and we're good.

(Emily) Did you have any reports where it was violent towards another human?

-Never violent.

-Really?

Never violent.

It would walk off, ease off, run off.

But I don't think we ever got a report.

In the movie, the Ford family that lived here, it did.

I mean, it tried to get in the house.

I'm sure it smelled food or whatever.

And that's well documented.

But there's hardly anything out there that's documented that it's ever tried to attack anybody.

(Eduardo) It's kind of a tragic creature, you know?

There's probably not too many around, if there are.

But it's alone and it has to stay isolated.

And then, you know, you're feared.

You better say something!

-Hey, man.

-I'm gonna shoot!

Shoot him!

He's not said anything.

Shoot him!

Shoot him!

[tense music] (Emily) This small unassuming town of Fouke, Arkansas, has been forever shaped by this monster.

When the media frenzy faded, the legend didn't just disappear, nor will it once I or any other visitors come and go.

Even if it's not always spoken of, generations of townspeople have and will continue to feel the presence of this legend.

There are skeptics, of course, but there's no denying that whatever is lurking in the woods around here has never fully let go of Fouke.

Do they still believe in the legend of the... Do they still believe in-- Oh my God, sorry.

-Folks of Fouke.

-Cut "folks."

I like alliteration.

It doesn't bother me.

Folks of Fouke.

They heard a blood-curdling scream.

Sorry.

Blood-curdling screams.

It's hair, not hairy covered.

Yep.