How a mythical creature in a fishing shop connects to the craftsmanship behind Fish City Woodworks

There's a jackalope that's been watching over the Brunson family for decades. Mounted with careful precision, this rabbit-with-antlers sat proudly in Zack Brunson Sr.'s bait shop here in Destin, becoming as much a part of the local fishing lore as the trophy catches displayed on neighboring walls.

As I carve wooden seahorses in my workshop today, following the same values of meticulous craftsmanship that Zack lived by, I find myself thinking about that quirky taxidermy mount and what it represents about American ingenuity, humor, and the art of making things with your hands.

Zack's Bait: A Destin Institution

For those who didn't know him, Zack Brunson Sr. (1921-2000) was a cornerstone of Destin's fishing community. Born at Boggy Bayou in 1921, he spent his life as a commercial fisherman and ran Zack's Bait right here in what locals still call "The World's Luckiest Fishing Village."

Zack wasn't just a businessman—he was a builder of community. He served on the board of directors for the Destin Community Center and Destin Fishing Rodeo, helped establish the New Destin Cemetery, and served with the Destin Volunteer Fire Department before later chairing the Destin Fire District. His contributions earned him the Ross Marler Award for community service, but to those who knew him, his legacy was simpler: he was a man who worked with his hands, knew the water, and built something lasting.

And somewhere in his bait shop, among the fishing line and lures and local fishing wisdom, sat that jackalope.

The Legend of the American Jackalope

The jackalope—that impossible hybrid of jackrabbit and antelope—is one of America's most beloved pieces of folk art. Its story begins in Douglas, Wyoming, in 1932, when brothers Douglas and Ralph Herrick returned from a hunting trip and tossed a jackrabbit carcass into their taxidermy workshop. By chance, it landed next to a pair of deer antlers, and inspiration struck.

The Herrick brothers had learned taxidermy through mail-order catalogs as teenagers, perfecting their craft the way countless Americans have learned their trades—through determination, practice, and a willingness to try something new. That first jackalope sold for $10 to a local hotel owner, and soon the mythical creature became a fixture of Western Americana.

But here's what makes the jackalope special: it wasn't trying to fool anyone. It was a wink and a nod, a piece of handcrafted whimsy that celebrated the tall tales and larger-than-life spirit of American frontier culture. Taxidermists across the country began creating their own versions, each one a small work of art that required real skill to execute convincingly.

The Craftsman's Touch

Whether you're grafting antlers onto a rabbit or carving the flowing lines of a rocking seahorse, there's something profound about working with your hands to create something that didn't exist before.

Zack understood this. As a commercial fisherman, he worked with ropes and nets, boats and bait. He knew that quality matters, that details count, and that when you put your name on something—whether it's a fishing charter or a bait shop—you're staking your reputation on your craftsmanship.

These same principles guide my work at Fish City Woodworks. Every rocking seahorse I create is carved with precision and care, just as Zack ran his business with integrity and attention to detail. We're both working in the tradition of American craftspeople who take pride in what they make.

That jackalope in his shop? It represented the same thing. Someone took the time to mount that rabbit with skill and care, creating something that would make people smile and spark conversation. It's folk art, yes, but it's also a testament to craftsmanship.

From Bait Shop to Woodshop: A Family Legacy

The connection between that jackalope and my rocking seahorses might not be immediately obvious, but both represent something important about Destin and about the values passed down through my family.

Destin started as a small fishing village founded by Leonard Destin in the 1830s. For generations, families like ours made their living from the Gulf—working with their hands, building businesses, and contributing to the community. Grandpa Zack was part of that heritage, and so am I, though my medium has shifted from nets and boats to wood and carving tools.

The jackalope reminds us that American folk art comes from places like bait shops and small-town businesses, created by people who appreciate both skill and humor. It's the same spirit that leads a fisherman's son to carve whimsical seahorses for children to ride—honoring the Gulf that raised us while creating something magical and lasting.

The Spirit of Making

Today, that jackalope is a family treasure, a conversation piece that connects us to Zack and to Destin's history. Every time I look at it, I'm reminded that craftsmanship takes many forms. Whether you're a taxidermist in 1930s Wyoming, a commercial fisherman running a bait shop in Destin, or a woodworker carving seahorses, you're participating in an American tradition of making things with purpose, skill, and pride.

And sometimes, with a bit of whimsy, too.

As I work in my shop, building rocking seahorses for the next generation, I carry forward Grandpa Zack's legacy of quality craftsmanship and community connection. Each seahorse I create is a tribute to the Gulf that raised our family and to the timeless art of working with your hands.

The jackalope watches over those values—reminding us that the best American folk art comes with a story, a smile, and the knowledge that someone cared enough to make it right.

Henry Clay Brunson Sr. creates handcrafted wooden rocking seahorses at Fish City Woodworks in Destin, Florida, continuing a family tradition of working with dedication and building things to last. Each seahorse is carved with the same attention to detail and quality that his father, Zack Brunson Sr., brought to Destin's fishing community.