The city of Key West was incorporated on January 8th of 1858, but it has been inhabited in various ways since before Juan Ponce de Leon first discovered it for Europeans in search of the Fountain of Youth.
Ponce de Leon never found the Fountain of Youth but, if he was able to communicate with the locals, he may have heard from them about a much more important and much older inhabitant of the islands: Foot-Grabber.
Early accounts of Foot-Grabber are hard to find and harder yet to validate. The Calusa Indians who once inhabited Key West are said to know of him, and various sources speak of either their fear of Foot-Grabber or their worship of him.
Sadly, the once powerful Calusa tribe (said to exert control over other local tribes like the Mayaimi from whom Miami gets its name) did not survive European colonization.
Diseases and violence brought to their realm by the newcomers ended their society, even small traces of which are hard to come by today.
We do know that statuettes dating back to the early 15th century resembling the description often given of Foot-Grabber (and the basis for our own logo design) have been found in the land formerly occupied by the tribe.
Key West's name in Spanish does not relate to its geographical location in relation to the other keys, but to a more chilling fact: American Indians found it notable for the large quantities of bones littering the land. They called it Cayo Hueso, or Bone Key.
It is a widely held belief amongst Foot-Grabber investigators that the bones found in such large quantities all over the island are evidence that Foot-Grabber, likely for lack of sufficient fish and birds, once preyed upon the humans that visited the Key.
In spite of its natural beauty, its prime trading location, and eventually its easy access to ship wreaks from which treasure could be salvaged, Key West did not see permanent habitation until the early 1820s.
The native people of the Americas understood what dwelled there and the danger they may find themselves in, should they choose to interlope on its hunting grounds like their ancestors did.
During the Civil War years Key West became home to a military fort by the name of Fort Zachary Taylor
Fort Zachary Taylor never saw action from the war, but did play host to prisoners, among them blockade runners.
In 1863, the blockade runner Banshee No. 3 was intercepted and damaged trying to break the Union Blockade. The Banshee was running at night to try to keep from being seen and when her damage sank her, her crew was not rescued until morning.
Upon interrogation at Fort Zachary Taylor, several of the Banshee's sailors testified to seeing their compatriots violently pulled down under the surface of the water never to surface again.
Come morning, one would see a human-like figure swiming effortlessly at the bottom of the sea faster than any man could.
Foot-Grabber had taken more lives over the course of one night than the Fort's cannons ever would.
Far removed from the terrors of Bone Key, locals of more recent history often tell stories of a more venevolent Foot-Grabber, one that has gone out of its way to help and even save humans and their pets.
William Bogging Jr., more commonly known as Billy Boggins, was a well known and well liked figure in the Key West of the mid-20th Century.
After leaving the Navy, Billy settled in Key West where he continued to make his living on the water. Though some unsavory stories paint Billy as an occasional smuggler, those who knew him best simply say that he was happiest on his boat and took odd jobs when life on the water could not provide.
The boat that Billy found happiness on, for a time, was the Lady A. The Lady A was a small sailboat, though it was best known for motoring around the shallow waters surrounding Key West.
As Billy told it in the June 23rd, 1963 edition of The Key West Citizen, after having taken a nap on his boat that went too long and waking to the already dimming light, Billy decided to spend the quiet night aboard the boat rather than sail to port in the dark.
After what is generally assumed to have been more rum than Billy wished to confess, he awoke from a deep sleep to find that a leaky seacock had flooded his bilge. The boat was quickly taking on more water than Billy could expel using the now primitive means at his disposal.
There was no stopping the Lady A from sinking and without as much as a life jacket, let alone a dinghy, Billy clung on whatever scraps of wood he could see floating in the dark of night and hoped his life would be saved in the morning by a passing boater, if he was fortunate enough to be spotted.
The hours dragged on, and even the tropical Key West waters eventually feel cold and fingers holding on to old planks get tired. Billy explained the ordeal to the Citizen in his own words:
Once the water started nipping at my skin, I knew I was a goner. I didn't want to be, so I thought that if I got up on the plank then maybe I could dry off and start feeling warm.
I tried but the wood would just sink and then shoot up as I fell off.
I kept on trying but all I really managed to do was get a splinter in my finger from the old wood and make a big splashing.
It was the splashing sounds that likely saved Billy's life.
I was taking a break, trying to get the spliter out with my teeth and breathing heavy, when I suddenly felt something grab my foot and pull me under.
I thought "it don't feel like no teeth" but I still thought it was a bull shark or something.
It was dark, I was under water, I couldn't breathe, I sure couldn't get free, and I saw that it was the end.
All of a sudden, I didn't feel no grip on my foot anymore, I went to swim up and kicked hard, but I was surprised to kick the ground.
You can call me crazy, you can call me a drunk, but I know what saved me was Foot-Grabber. The monster brought me to a sandbar and left me there to wait for help.
Unharmed and on solid ground, Billy managed to last until the dawn, when a passing sailor did see him, alone, not another boat in sight, and waving his hands like a mad man.
For all the bodies in old Bone Key, Foot-Grabber had saved Billy.
Bert "Snapper" Farmer and his wife Jenny had two small kids and a Pekinese that was Jenny's pride and joy.
Snapper was a fisherman, a drinker, and a philanderer who was rumored to be the father of another child in Miami.
On a hot August afternoon in the mid-70s the Farmer children stayed home with family and Snapper and Jenny went fishing, as they often did on weekends.
Over the course of the afternoon, Jenny quenched her thirst on beer and gave voice to her grievances regarding Snapper and the rumors surrounding his business trips to Miami.
Snapper overcome with an unearned anger, gestured wildly and accidentally hit Jenny's Pekinese and sent him flying over the side of the boat only to land on the water with a dull splashing sound.
Realizing what he had done, Snapper looked at his wife, froze for a second that lasted a minute, and jumped over the side of the boat after the dog.
Snapper searched the surface, dove under, swam desperately, and finally came up for air dismayed that he hadn't yet been able to spot the beloved family pet.
His head broke the surface of the water to his wife's cries of desperation and, suddenly, the boat jerked as if pulled forward by the anchor chain and a small "yap" from the front of the boat could be heard.
Snapper climbed up the ladder back on to the boat and was greeted by the sight of his way staring, slack jawed, at the small dog that could not have possibly climbed back onto the boat by his own means.
Grateful, but wondering how it could have happened, they both made their way towards the front of the boat where, right on top of the anchor locker, they found a small wet patch surrounded by the hot and dry fiberglass of a boat in the sun.
Snapper's own description of the events remained unchanged until he passed away:
Nothing else could have moved the boat. And it wasn't a grouper that put that dog back.
It was clear to him: Foot-Grabber had rescued the dog.
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