Corbet Deary Truth, or stretch of imagination

I’ve often been referred to as a skeptic, a label somewhat valid in that I don’t buy into every story I hear, especially pertaining to the outdoors.

Some can’t seem to help themselves, embellishing every story they share. Not everyone falls into that category, one’s imagination sometimes playing tricks, especially with one quick to buy into another far-fetched tale.

Folks start seeing things that coincides with a story recently heard. From there, stories snowball, growing increasingly outlandish.

A scenario several years ago comes to mind. A friend and I were traveling along a country road on a dark and foggy night, when a black cat suddenly bounded from the ditch, rushed across the road, and disappeared into the forest on the opposing side. It was obviously a feral house cat that resided in an old barn in the back of a nearby field.

I recognized this as an opportunity to prove that one can be led into believing just about anything. And with a little talk, I convinced my friend that a huge black panther had rushed across the road.

On other occasions, friends and family members have asked me to identify snakes and other critters using descriptions given. Every now and then, their accounts are on the money, and I can rattle off a species with no doubt. Sometimes, an illustration would prove hair raising, to say the least.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m acutely aware that many things I have never seen nor experienced. I’m just one of those people not easily swayed, though open minded enough to dig a little deeper into one’s story.

I’ve explored areas where strange things supposedly have occurred, the results often null and in vain. At other times, questions have been answered and stories were confirmed in my mind.

Although not buying into the ghostly tale of the Gurdon Light, I have seen them without fail on each visit to a section of railroad tram in Clark County.

And, I fully intend to lead a group on an overnight journey to Miller County in search of the Fouke Monster. I first learned of this huge and elusive creature as a child. the 1970s movie “The Legend of Boggy Creek” grossing $25 million. It is said to “haunt” the Sulfur River bottoms near the community of Fouke. Many claimed to see him before the movie’s debut, and new accounts are being reported. A few months ago, he was spotted near Boggy Creek on Interstate 49.

Admitting skepticism, I eagerly await the colder months of the year when one isn’t plagued with the necessity of scanning the swampy forest floor for snakes and gators. I might return home with more doubts. But who’s to say. I might also come home with irrefutable proof that accounts of the Fouke Monster are legitimate, and with a new take on the Legend of Boggy Creek.