The two things I didn't write are the Omie Wise ballad and John Hardy song.
Appalachian Folklore
the interesting to abnormal
the past to modern
the tale to real
November 2011
THE BEAST OR--
November 15 of 1966, and for days to come, an exquisite figure appears before numerous people; the descriptions given resemble a creature larger than a human with a much more intimidating presence. A silent beast, its dark figure watches at a distance with large eyes protruding from its daunting body; a head is not significantly visible in the leering darkness of the night that this beast prefers to reside within. At the most random of moments – yet preferably at the onset of humans passing in vehicles during late hours – the creature extends wings from its body and ascends into the air; it takes such a graceful, steady flight, only making the scene more surreal.
January 11, the creature takes to the air once more to make an appearance by the Silver Bridge – the creature feels the age of the bridge’s massive build; he hears the silent groans as it struggles to withstand the burden cast upon it day by day until alas, in December, the bridge exhausts itself along with 46 lives – and the existence of the Mothman.
--THE BIRD
An exquisite creature of beauty, its tall build, lengthy wingspan provides an intimidating weapon in the case of predators. Emphasizing its eyes are red feathers atop its head. And as its friends fly to warmer climates, he is left behind to find himself in a state of confusion and excessive caution as food becomes scarce and the days become colder. The onset of winter puts him into a fit of desperation – there is no time for rest, and even in the night, when foul and roaring beasts with brightly blinding eyes tear through the world, he must search for food and companionship to survive the harshness of his changing environment. Nothing compares to the fear of being caught in the light of the eyes of those foul beasts, and only when sense returns may our friend realize the notion to stop staring into them and take flight – his wings can save him; and shall he soar through daylight as his desperation grows may he come across a massive structure that carries the very same foul beasts he witnesses in the dark. Lithe wings carry him above it, but there is nothing there for him except a sight of the beasts below, and he descends to the ground – and as death takes its toll on him during the harsh winter, no one shall take notice of the demise of the lonely Sandhill Crane.
GAP CREEK SHACK
In Tennessee around Gap Creek, a man is wary from travel. He wills himself to the next town before resting, but his perseverance is washed away as rain begins to fall, with thunder and lightning shaking the sky soon after. The man’s only hope now is a shack in the distance; through the rain pouring in the darkness he can make out lights within the shack, and a feeling of small hope for a night with food and a comfortable place to sleep guides him through the gloom toward shelter. A knock on the door is answered by a burly man; behind him are other men, and they all smoke cigars that choke the air. Sitting around a craggy, weak table, the men play cards. The traveler’s hope sizzles quickly away as the man carelessly lets him inside but proclaims there is no food. The man – and only him, for the others pay the traveler no mind – grants him permission to sleep in the other room in a bed with the woman they are traveling with. “But do not touch her, for she is ill,” he states, and joins his friends in their card game.
The traveler attempts sleep for hours but can only manage the slightest drift into unconsciousness. Alas, when the storm lets up does the man recognize the prominence of silence in the room despite his own breathing – and only his. He rolls over in bed to finally face the woman he has laid beside for hours only to find a bullet wound in her head; her skin is fleshy and gray with grimy, dry eyes that stare blankly at the ceiling.
The traveler, frightened and disgusted, flees the shack; the men are gone, and when the traveler returns later with the nearest town’s sheriff, even the woman is gone along with signs that anyone had been in the shack at all for many years.
FLINTVILLE BEAST
“There's a bigfoot attacking cars and trying to snatch little children in the Tennessee foothills.”
“That thing's so big it could easily hurt somebody. Who knows how many head of our livestock have gone missing because of it?''
-Ned Sinclair, farmer
``It was 7 or 8 feet tall and seemed to be all covered with hair. It reached out its long, hairy arms toward Gary and came within a few inches of him.''
-Mrs. Robertson on her child’s near capture
“A black, hairy, and screaming ape-like creature.”
-common description given by witnesses
JOHN HENRY
An African American slave with exceptional strength, he is known for his gift of “steel-driving.” His fame grew with his ability to quickly build railroads, but is put to the test when a railroad owner buys a steam-powered hammer. He challenges the machine to a race, and wins, yet dies soon after from exhaustion.
It is believed the John Henry was born in Tennessee, but there is debate as to which railroads John Henry worked on and the one he raced on. Some say the race against the steam hammer occurred while Henry worked along the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway; others claim he raced during the construction of the Big Bend tunnel near Talcott, West Virginia. Talcott holds an annual festival for Henry and has a statue and plaque dedicated to his memory. But Scott Reynolds Nelson, professor at the College of William and Mary, claims John Henry, a prisoner in a Virginia penitentiary who was released by the warden to work on the C&O Railroad in the 1870s, is the base of the John Henry legend. He points out that a steam drill race at the Big Bend in Talcott is impossible for there are no records of a steam drill ever being used there. Nelson confirms his belief that the battle between Henry and the drill took place at the Lewis Tunnel, between Talcott and Millboro, Virginia; there, prison slaves had worked beside steam drills.
THE BALLAD OF OMIE WISE
Stories claim that Naomie “Omie” Wise was murdered by her lover, Jonathan Lewis; Omie’s body was found beaten in a river in Asheboro, North Carolina, where she had drowned in a river. Lewis was jailed but escaped; after being caught several years later and put on trial, he was found not guilty and was once again free. On his death bed he confessed to the murder of Omie. Her story is told through a ballad:
I'll tell you the history of little Omie Wise
How she was deluded by John Lewis' lies
He told her to meet him at the Hellington Spring
He'd bring her some money and other fine things
But when she did meet him at the Hellington Spring
He brought her no money nor other fine things
Said, "Climb up behind me and away we will go
We'll ride and be married where the old folks won't know
She climbed up behind him and away they did go
Down through the lonesome valley where the deep waters flow
"Get down from behind me and I'll tell you no lie
My mind is to drown you and leave you behind
She threw her arms around him she was so surprised
"Oh, let me go beggin' if I can't be your bride."
He hugged her and he kissed her and he looked all around
He threw her in deep waters where he knew that she would drown
Then he mounted his pony and away he did go
Back through the lonesome valley where the deep waters flow
JOHN HARDY
This folk song of John Hardy is based on the tale of a railroad worker who murdered a man and was hanged for the crime.
John Hardy was a desperate little man,
He carried two guns ev'ry day.
He shot down a man on that West Virginia line,
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away....
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away....
John Hardy stood in that old baroom,
So drunk that he could not see.
And a man walked up and took him by the arm,
He said, "Johnny, come and go along with me,
Poor boy, Johnny, come and walk along with me."
John Hardy stood in his old jail cell,
The tears running down from his eyes.
He said, "I've been the death of many a poor boy.
But my six-shooters never told a lie,
No, my six-shooters never told a lie.
The first one to visit John Hardy in his cell
Was a little girl dressed in blue.
She came down to that old jail cell,
She said, "Johnny, I've been true to you.
God knows, Johnny, I've been true to you."
The next one to visit John Hardy in his cell,
Was a little girl dressed in red.
She came down to that old jail cell,
She said, "Johnny, I had rather see you dead,
Well, Johnny, I had rather see you dead."
"I've been to the East and I've been to the West,
I've traveled this wide world around,
I've been to that river and I've been baptized,
So take me to my burying ground,
So take me to my burying ground."
John Hardy was a desperate little man,
He carried two guns ev'ry day.
He shot down a man on the West Virginia line,
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away,
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away.
THE JACKS OF APPALACHIA
Foolish, poor, feeble,
A boy with a flair for thrill:
Tales of lucky Jack
Jack and the Beanstalk--
Glorious and high,
A giant resides aloft
As guard from Jack’s greed
Bountiful in mystery
Elegant in build
Annoying in whereabouts
Noticeable by the nosey
Stature strong enough for a boy
Towers through the clouds
And leads to another place, a
Land of giants who are
Killed when chopped down
Stubborn and a fool,
Sold away a steer for beans;
Cast away, they grew
Jack the Giant Killer--
Quick, cunning, with smarts,
Traps a giant and kills him;
Most loved is the pride
Greedy for glory,
Jack tricks a giant to stab
Himself from disgrace
Despite greedy ways
Admired for cunning mind
Tales sift through mountains
AN ASTROLOGICAL GUIDE TO FARMERS
Aries: For ground preparation, beets and onions, and hunting; dare not transplant other crops.
Taurus: All root and above ground crops are in luck, and feel free to hunt and fish
Gemini: Plant anything, and get your preserving for jellies and pickles done
Cancer: Stick with above ground and root crops; cook and fish fruitfully
Leo: Take a break from the farm and try some sports, finding a partner or job, and hunt – just don’t plant
Virgo: Trade, not plant
Libra: Time for above ground crops and things that flower.
Scorpio: Flowering things and above ground crops; fishing and hunting recommended.
Sagittarius: Get a job, trade some crops, bake goodies, and preserve food.
Capricorn: Time for root crops
Aquarius: Take a break from the farm for some social events; if you mustn’t, try some ground crops.
Pisces: Plant, transplant above ground crops, trees, and shrubbery; the husbands can fish, wives wean your babies
Other tips: For planting above ground crops, the most bountiful harvests derive from planting while the moon is waxing; for below ground crops, plant while the moon is waning.
MOUNTAIN MAGIC: A BRIEF
INTRODUCTION TO GRANNY WITCHES
The magic amidst our mountains is full of tradition passed down among Appalachian families for many centuries; it has faded slightly with the modernizing world, yet it still finds itself prominent within our culture. The witches among us who have richly embraced themselves within the art of Granny Magic go by the title Witch Doctors or Water Witches, depending on the basis of magic they are most gifted in. Our traditions are based off the ideas of Paganism; Mother Nature, Jack Frost, Father Winter, Chloe, Spider Grandmother, and Demeter are several of the deities we worship for the balance and harmony they deliver to life.
Music finds itself having deep roots within magic; the majority of spells are sung and danced. For example, an Earth blessing meant to be sung during planting and harvesting is as follows:
A da we hi a ne he ne ha
Do hi u a iu ni
O lo hi a li ga lu lo hi u nah ta
Ga li e li ga O sa da du
Wise Protectors, they are so giving
Serenity, it resounds
Mother Earth and Father Sky are so giving
I am thankful, it is good
Divination is a popular practice among us. Tarot, tea leaves, clouds, and scrying in bowls of water, dirt, or sand play roles in predictions. The Cherokee Spider Grandmother Goddess leaves messages of fate, magic, weaving, art, and storytelling within spider webs.
In general, our magic traditions are pure and of healing and nature; it is an important aspect of our culture and the way we live each day.
the interesting to abnormal
the past to modern
the tale to real
November 2011
THE BEAST OR--
November 15 of 1966, and for days to come, an exquisite figure appears before numerous people; the descriptions given resemble a creature larger than a human with a much more intimidating presence. A silent beast, its dark figure watches at a distance with large eyes protruding from its daunting body; a head is not significantly visible in the leering darkness of the night that this beast prefers to reside within. At the most random of moments – yet preferably at the onset of humans passing in vehicles during late hours – the creature extends wings from its body and ascends into the air; it takes such a graceful, steady flight, only making the scene more surreal.
January 11, the creature takes to the air once more to make an appearance by the Silver Bridge – the creature feels the age of the bridge’s massive build; he hears the silent groans as it struggles to withstand the burden cast upon it day by day until alas, in December, the bridge exhausts itself along with 46 lives – and the existence of the Mothman.
--THE BIRD
An exquisite creature of beauty, its tall build, lengthy wingspan provides an intimidating weapon in the case of predators. Emphasizing its eyes are red feathers atop its head. And as its friends fly to warmer climates, he is left behind to find himself in a state of confusion and excessive caution as food becomes scarce and the days become colder. The onset of winter puts him into a fit of desperation – there is no time for rest, and even in the night, when foul and roaring beasts with brightly blinding eyes tear through the world, he must search for food and companionship to survive the harshness of his changing environment. Nothing compares to the fear of being caught in the light of the eyes of those foul beasts, and only when sense returns may our friend realize the notion to stop staring into them and take flight – his wings can save him; and shall he soar through daylight as his desperation grows may he come across a massive structure that carries the very same foul beasts he witnesses in the dark. Lithe wings carry him above it, but there is nothing there for him except a sight of the beasts below, and he descends to the ground – and as death takes its toll on him during the harsh winter, no one shall take notice of the demise of the lonely Sandhill Crane.
GAP CREEK SHACK
In Tennessee around Gap Creek, a man is wary from travel. He wills himself to the next town before resting, but his perseverance is washed away as rain begins to fall, with thunder and lightning shaking the sky soon after. The man’s only hope now is a shack in the distance; through the rain pouring in the darkness he can make out lights within the shack, and a feeling of small hope for a night with food and a comfortable place to sleep guides him through the gloom toward shelter. A knock on the door is answered by a burly man; behind him are other men, and they all smoke cigars that choke the air. Sitting around a craggy, weak table, the men play cards. The traveler’s hope sizzles quickly away as the man carelessly lets him inside but proclaims there is no food. The man – and only him, for the others pay the traveler no mind – grants him permission to sleep in the other room in a bed with the woman they are traveling with. “But do not touch her, for she is ill,” he states, and joins his friends in their card game.
The traveler attempts sleep for hours but can only manage the slightest drift into unconsciousness. Alas, when the storm lets up does the man recognize the prominence of silence in the room despite his own breathing – and only his. He rolls over in bed to finally face the woman he has laid beside for hours only to find a bullet wound in her head; her skin is fleshy and gray with grimy, dry eyes that stare blankly at the ceiling.
The traveler, frightened and disgusted, flees the shack; the men are gone, and when the traveler returns later with the nearest town’s sheriff, even the woman is gone along with signs that anyone had been in the shack at all for many years.
FLINTVILLE BEAST
“There's a bigfoot attacking cars and trying to snatch little children in the Tennessee foothills.”
“That thing's so big it could easily hurt somebody. Who knows how many head of our livestock have gone missing because of it?''
-Ned Sinclair, farmer
``It was 7 or 8 feet tall and seemed to be all covered with hair. It reached out its long, hairy arms toward Gary and came within a few inches of him.''
-Mrs. Robertson on her child’s near capture
“A black, hairy, and screaming ape-like creature.”
-common description given by witnesses
JOHN HENRY
An African American slave with exceptional strength, he is known for his gift of “steel-driving.” His fame grew with his ability to quickly build railroads, but is put to the test when a railroad owner buys a steam-powered hammer. He challenges the machine to a race, and wins, yet dies soon after from exhaustion.
It is believed the John Henry was born in Tennessee, but there is debate as to which railroads John Henry worked on and the one he raced on. Some say the race against the steam hammer occurred while Henry worked along the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway; others claim he raced during the construction of the Big Bend tunnel near Talcott, West Virginia. Talcott holds an annual festival for Henry and has a statue and plaque dedicated to his memory. But Scott Reynolds Nelson, professor at the College of William and Mary, claims John Henry, a prisoner in a Virginia penitentiary who was released by the warden to work on the C&O Railroad in the 1870s, is the base of the John Henry legend. He points out that a steam drill race at the Big Bend in Talcott is impossible for there are no records of a steam drill ever being used there. Nelson confirms his belief that the battle between Henry and the drill took place at the Lewis Tunnel, between Talcott and Millboro, Virginia; there, prison slaves had worked beside steam drills.
THE BALLAD OF OMIE WISE
Stories claim that Naomie “Omie” Wise was murdered by her lover, Jonathan Lewis; Omie’s body was found beaten in a river in Asheboro, North Carolina, where she had drowned in a river. Lewis was jailed but escaped; after being caught several years later and put on trial, he was found not guilty and was once again free. On his death bed he confessed to the murder of Omie. Her story is told through a ballad:
I'll tell you the history of little Omie Wise
How she was deluded by John Lewis' lies
He told her to meet him at the Hellington Spring
He'd bring her some money and other fine things
But when she did meet him at the Hellington Spring
He brought her no money nor other fine things
Said, "Climb up behind me and away we will go
We'll ride and be married where the old folks won't know
She climbed up behind him and away they did go
Down through the lonesome valley where the deep waters flow
"Get down from behind me and I'll tell you no lie
My mind is to drown you and leave you behind
She threw her arms around him she was so surprised
"Oh, let me go beggin' if I can't be your bride."
He hugged her and he kissed her and he looked all around
He threw her in deep waters where he knew that she would drown
Then he mounted his pony and away he did go
Back through the lonesome valley where the deep waters flow
JOHN HARDY
This folk song of John Hardy is based on the tale of a railroad worker who murdered a man and was hanged for the crime.
John Hardy was a desperate little man,
He carried two guns ev'ry day.
He shot down a man on that West Virginia line,
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away....
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away....
John Hardy stood in that old baroom,
So drunk that he could not see.
And a man walked up and took him by the arm,
He said, "Johnny, come and go along with me,
Poor boy, Johnny, come and walk along with me."
John Hardy stood in his old jail cell,
The tears running down from his eyes.
He said, "I've been the death of many a poor boy.
But my six-shooters never told a lie,
No, my six-shooters never told a lie.
The first one to visit John Hardy in his cell
Was a little girl dressed in blue.
She came down to that old jail cell,
She said, "Johnny, I've been true to you.
God knows, Johnny, I've been true to you."
The next one to visit John Hardy in his cell,
Was a little girl dressed in red.
She came down to that old jail cell,
She said, "Johnny, I had rather see you dead,
Well, Johnny, I had rather see you dead."
"I've been to the East and I've been to the West,
I've traveled this wide world around,
I've been to that river and I've been baptized,
So take me to my burying ground,
So take me to my burying ground."
John Hardy was a desperate little man,
He carried two guns ev'ry day.
He shot down a man on the West Virginia line,
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away,
You oughta seen John Hardy gettin' away.
THE JACKS OF APPALACHIA
Foolish, poor, feeble,
A boy with a flair for thrill:
Tales of lucky Jack
Jack and the Beanstalk--
Glorious and high,
A giant resides aloft
As guard from Jack’s greed
Bountiful in mystery
Elegant in build
Annoying in whereabouts
Noticeable by the nosey
Stature strong enough for a boy
Towers through the clouds
And leads to another place, a
Land of giants who are
Killed when chopped down
Stubborn and a fool,
Sold away a steer for beans;
Cast away, they grew
Jack the Giant Killer--
Quick, cunning, with smarts,
Traps a giant and kills him;
Most loved is the pride
Greedy for glory,
Jack tricks a giant to stab
Himself from disgrace
Despite greedy ways
Admired for cunning mind
Tales sift through mountains
AN ASTROLOGICAL GUIDE TO FARMERS
Aries: For ground preparation, beets and onions, and hunting; dare not transplant other crops.
Taurus: All root and above ground crops are in luck, and feel free to hunt and fish
Gemini: Plant anything, and get your preserving for jellies and pickles done
Cancer: Stick with above ground and root crops; cook and fish fruitfully
Leo: Take a break from the farm and try some sports, finding a partner or job, and hunt – just don’t plant
Virgo: Trade, not plant
Libra: Time for above ground crops and things that flower.
Scorpio: Flowering things and above ground crops; fishing and hunting recommended.
Sagittarius: Get a job, trade some crops, bake goodies, and preserve food.
Capricorn: Time for root crops
Aquarius: Take a break from the farm for some social events; if you mustn’t, try some ground crops.
Pisces: Plant, transplant above ground crops, trees, and shrubbery; the husbands can fish, wives wean your babies
Other tips: For planting above ground crops, the most bountiful harvests derive from planting while the moon is waxing; for below ground crops, plant while the moon is waning.
MOUNTAIN MAGIC: A BRIEF
INTRODUCTION TO GRANNY WITCHES
The magic amidst our mountains is full of tradition passed down among Appalachian families for many centuries; it has faded slightly with the modernizing world, yet it still finds itself prominent within our culture. The witches among us who have richly embraced themselves within the art of Granny Magic go by the title Witch Doctors or Water Witches, depending on the basis of magic they are most gifted in. Our traditions are based off the ideas of Paganism; Mother Nature, Jack Frost, Father Winter, Chloe, Spider Grandmother, and Demeter are several of the deities we worship for the balance and harmony they deliver to life.
Music finds itself having deep roots within magic; the majority of spells are sung and danced. For example, an Earth blessing meant to be sung during planting and harvesting is as follows:
A da we hi a ne he ne ha
Do hi u a iu ni
O lo hi a li ga lu lo hi u nah ta
Ga li e li ga O sa da du
Wise Protectors, they are so giving
Serenity, it resounds
Mother Earth and Father Sky are so giving
I am thankful, it is good
Divination is a popular practice among us. Tarot, tea leaves, clouds, and scrying in bowls of water, dirt, or sand play roles in predictions. The Cherokee Spider Grandmother Goddess leaves messages of fate, magic, weaving, art, and storytelling within spider webs.
In general, our magic traditions are pure and of healing and nature; it is an important aspect of our culture and the way we live each day.
Taryn
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