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"Who's that?" I asked the guy behind the counter, a doughy 30-something with rosy cheeks.
"That's Max Palmer. He was 8-foot-2," he said wistfully. "He was a resident of Glen Rose and personal friends with Dr. Baugh."
"What does he have to do with all this?" I asked, pointing at a fossil gathering dust on a shelf.
"It confirms the Genesis account that men grew to be giants. Genesis 6:4."
Baugh materialized from the back room, shook my hand and glanced at his gold watch. He had just finished giving a lecture, he said, and was about to start another, but he could give me a few minutes.
Baugh arrived at Glen Rose in 1982, and by that time the Paluxy was already hallowed ground for creationists. Dinosaur fossils were first discovered in the river in 1909, and the next year there were reports that "giant man tracks" had also been found in a limestone shelf of the river.
In 1961, this alleged discovery was featured prominently in a book called The Genesis Flood, which would become the seminal text of the creationist movement. The book, which was written by Old Testament scholar John Whitcomb and college professor Henry Morris, held that the traditional scientific understanding of the geologic column was incorrect. The geologic column, which contains different layers of sedimentary rock, had not been created over millions of years, as science held, but had instead been formed in one year, as a result of the global flood and its aftermath. Noah's flood explained everything from submarine canyons to frozen woolly mammoths found in the arctic. The implications of this theory—which would later form the basis of Morris' "creation science"—were enormous. If true, then everything scientists believed about evolution and the history of the world—in other words, everything based on scientific evidence and observation—was wrong.
Ever since publication of Charles Darwin's Origin of Species, Bible literalists had been buffeted with one scientific discovery after another that seemed to fly in the face of their faith. Now with The Genesis Flood, there was a book that attempted to reconcile science with the Bible instead of other way around. Since The Genesis Flood's publication, a parallel universe has been created for those who believe in creationism. Today, there are schools that teach creation science, museums where that science comes to life in skeletal displays and Hollywood-style films, and organizations that push these views into the public realm of mainstream thought.
Over time, the claims the book made about the discovery of "man tracks" at Paluxy would be challenged, and eventually, Morris himself would distance himself from what he had once said was found at the river.
Baugh was in his late 40s when he came to Glen Rose, eager to find the smoking gun of creation science. As he began digging in the limestone bed of the river, he says, he uncovered several large three-toed footprints probably from sauropods, or as they are more commonly known, brontosaurs. But as he kept digging, he found what he was looking for—a winding path of footprints that looked like the tracks of a breed of giant men. These tracks were in the same sedimentary layer as the dinosaur tracks, meaning they had been created at the same time. "I was blown away," Baugh says. "To secular scientists, this would be like finding a Cadillac with a polished bumper in the very same layer with the dinosaurs."
While Baugh's work was celebrated by young-Earth creationists, the science community has not been as welcoming. Evolutionists and students from local universities show up at his museum so they can ask him about his degrees (which reportedly came from diploma mills) and laugh at his claims.
I asked Baugh why science was so threatened by his work.
"They are threatened, aren't they?" he asked with a smile, surprised, it seemed, that a reporter would ask such a friendly question. "I ask the question, 'What are you afraid of, aren't we looking for truth, good science?'
"They're threatened because, in my opinion, if you lay the two scientific theories, creation and evolution, side by side, innately the student chooses creation. It's obvious that he's too complicated, that living systems are too complicated to have arisen by chance."
This has been the main tenet of creationism from the beginning, and it has held great sway with the public. In fact, in the 1970s and '80s, several states, including Louisiana and Arkansas, passed laws that either banned the teaching of evolution or required that where evolution was taught, creationism must be taught with it. That ended in 1987 when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Edwards v. Aguillard that teaching creationism in public schools violated the constitutional separation of church and state because it relied on biblical texts and "lacked a clear secular purpose."
In the aftermath of that decision, the Institute for Creation Research, which was founded by Morris in 1970, proposed a new strategy for creationists. The ICR suggested that "school boards and teachers should be strongly encouraged at least to stress the scientific arguments against evolution in their classes...even if they don't wish to recognize these as evidences and arguments for creationism."

