Prose:
Family Stories, Legends, and Some Works of Fiction
Sample Student Writings
NathanHollister High School12th GradeTeacher: Mrs. Roberts
Springfield's Panther Creek
Panther Creek is fifteen miles east of Springfield, Missouri. Its name originated from a real panther kill. This story will explain the legend of Panther Creek.
In 1829, young Andy Martin (my great-great-great grandfather) had migrated from Scotland with his father Samuel Martin to what is now called Springfield. They were among the very first settlers. They helped organize County Government for Greene County, and Samuel Martin served as the first Judge of Greene County in 1833.
R.A.(Andy) Martin was twenty-two years of age. He loved to hunt and explore the wild Ozark hills and valleys which surrounded Springfield. It was perhaps about the year 1830 that he went on a hunting expedition and found the most beautiful stream of crystal-clear spring water which flowed into the James River from the east.
It was only a few miles upstream that his dogs sighted a panther that ran into a cave. Andy urged his dogs in after the creature, but very soon they rushed out bleeding, mangled, and torn. His dogs were so afraid and chewed-up that they refused to attack the panther again. Finally, Andy pulled off his hunting shirt, an outer garment of buckskin often worn by early pioneers, and hung it over the mouth of the cave. He knew that the panther would avoid coming near anything which smelled like human odor.
The next day he rode to some of the nearest settlers and told them of the panther. With several dogs, the men followed him to the cave. Many of the best dogs were sent in, but always returned battered and scarred. Rather than leave the panther behind to roam the countryside killing cattle, pigs, and other animals, Andy decided to enter the cave and shoot the beast, only is one man would hold the lamp for him. They had to draw straws to see who would be the on e to go in with Andy. In some places they could walk upright, but had to crawl most of the way. At last they saw what appeared to be two balls of fire moving back and forth across the darkness at the end of the pathway. They knew it was the shine of its eyes reflecting off the light of the torch. When he had stopped, Andy aimed his old muzzle loader directly between the two fireballs and pulled the trigger. The blast of the gun blew out the torch, and all was dark. Andy yelled at his friend to stand motionless at the side of the entryway, because the animal would run for the cave's entrance and kill them if they were in his way.
Soon after, the torch was back to its original flame, the men crept forward to find the panther dead on the edge of a ledge that it had been pacing back and forth on. The men then dragged it out of the cave, and found that it was nine feet from the tip of his tail to his nose. Andy had been riding a large horse and found out that the panther's forearm was as massive as the front leg of his horse. It was the largest ever killed in the Springfield area, and thereby the creek was called Panther Creek.
Another story told later about Panther Creek happened in 1840, when a woman
was washing her clothing in the creek. She placed her three-week old baby under some shady shrubs nearby while she built a fire and heated water for washing. Suddenly, she heard her baby scream. As she turned to look, she saw a large panther vanish into the forest with her baby in its mouth. Her desperate cry and effort to overtake the beast were useless. The panther ate the baby. Even today, one is assured by local residents that they have recently seen panthers, or have heard their vicious, human-like screams.
The story of the naming of Panther creek only lends added reality that legends are based upon facts, not fairy-tales. People actually called it Panter Creek, but there are many other stories like this and have played an important role in the development of this part of the United States.
JaybieHollister High School9th GradeTeacher: Mrs. Roberts
There are a lot of legends in my family, but one in particular that I choose to write about.
There is a legend that about 200 years ago a little girl died in my grandma's cousin's house. And any time another little girl came to the house her spirit would get jealous and do something to hurt them. Later on we found out that her paernts killed themselves after she died. My granma's cousin has seen the ghosts of the parents many times, but It doesn't seem to bother her much.
I never believed her for a while about it until my sister and I went to her house one day. Her lights had gone out of her bathroom, and I had to go really bad. When I was done, I got lost in the house and saw a figure in the hall. It is a three storey house.
Then my sister was outside playing and went to go inside. She went on the porch (I was out there on the porch with her) and she came up the steps. There was a pile of wood by the edge of the porch. There wasn't a peice of wood in front of the door when my sister went there. But as she was running up the steps and across the porch I saw the piece of wood in front of the door, but it was too late. She tripped over it and went head first through the glass door. She only ended up getting stitches on her pinky, but we never went to the house again.
BenHollister High School10th GradeTeacher: Mrs. Rowland
The Tallest of Tails Strait From the McDonalds and Mitchells
An Amazon Catfish
My family has lived in the Ozarks for about as long as I can remember. One thing my grandfather and me love to do is fish. Our particular type is stream fishing down on Shoal Creek.
One time we found a very deep and dark hole, so like anybody we cast our lures on in. As soon as my grandfather's hit the water he got a huge strike. He reeled that sucker in and believe it or not, it was the biggest channel catfish we'd ever seen!
In fact, it was so big, we pulled it out with a 4WD pickup, then loaded it into his truck bed with a 2-ton wench. And to top things off, we ate on that thing for 2 years!
What's the forecast?
One time my father and I were sitting down in a field near Spokane shooting skeet. And on this particular day, the wind was blowing especially hard. Every time we took a shot, the wind blew the shotgun pellets back at us. In fact, we killed three pigeons that day just from the shot coming back towards us.
Hole in one
My friends and I were golfing at Thousand Hills Golf Course in Branson, and it was his turn to tee off. But right when he drove the ball, a 12 point buck ran across the fairway, and believe it or not, the ball hit it square in the head. The shot killed it dead cold. So we tagged it, loaded it on the golf cart, and played the rest of the 18 holes.
AshleyHollister High School10th GradeTeacher: Mrs. Rowland
"My name is Ashley. I am 15 and a sophomore at Hollister High School. I moved here a year ago with my family from Kansas City. This town, however, is very laid-back and god based. It has a real small town feeling. I thought that I would write this essay in Pete Reed's perspective, so that the reader would see the small town kind of feeling."
Hey, ya'll, and welcome to Taney County! My name is Pete Reed, folks jist cal me P.R. for short, and i'd like to tell ya'll a bit about my hill country. Things sur ehave changed 'round here over the years. Why, I can remember the days when I was nothin' but ayoung feller down playin' in the creek near the White River; that's 'till them there Army Corp of Engineers came in here 'bout forty o' fifty year ago and flooded out some o' my best huntin' spots in the area. But I's recollect I'd let that ione slide since they would be puttin' in me a fishin' hole.
Anywayz, I's reckon that they's was all jist wantin' to come a visitin' to see a bit o' God's country, and if'n tweren't fer that, then they's jist musta been comin' to see, what was the name o' that there new show up ther' in Branson? Oh, yeah, I think that they's call themselves the Baldknobbers. Well, I'm a guessin' that that there theater idea done gone and caught on like a bass to a smoke colored grub since they's done popped up ever'where now. An' them tourists, umph, they's done multiplied faster than jack rabbits.
Now's back to my rollin' hill country. We got ourselves three o' the bestest fishin' lakes this side o' the Mississippi. Why if you were fixin' to walk downtown on a nice spring day and do yours shoppin' yu'd have another thing comin' cause you's find a gone fishin' sign in ever' windor. Now I'd jist bez pullin' yer leg on that one. What you would find is one o' them there shoppers paradises. Why teh 's 5 & 10 has everythin' under the sun! They's got a whole lotta stores jist like the ones they used to have when I was no more grown than a bean sprout. Why to take a stroll down Main Street brings on a flood o' my wonderful childhood memories.
O' course times do change, I reckon. At least that's what they's tell me. Everythin' seems to've, what them city folks like to call, modernized. Why we even got some of that there cable television in them fine hotels you can find all over town. While most o' the whole shebang is changin' one thin' I do know that'll never change is my love for my home land. I've traveled 'round a bit in my days but never have I come on to a place that I'd rather be. Well, I guess that's 'cause we got ourselves a lil' bit o' everthin' anybody might want to come across if'n they's be wantin' to take a relaxin' vacation. We've got more shows than you can counton your's fingers and toes and all that fancy jazz that goes with 'em or it you bez mo' like me, and you'd rather jist sit back and enjoy nature, well, we've got plenty o' that too.
So if'n you'd be findin' yourself in my's neck o' the woods, why don't ya stop by an' stratch your legs a bit and get a pop before you fix to get on your way agin.
MandyHollister High School11th GradeTeacher: Mrs. Roberts
In the Ozarks, ghost stories are a very common family subject. A lot of times the ghost stories are passed down from generation to generation. They usually stay in the family, and that is how this story of Mollie came to me.
Around 1920, on a calm, but gloomy summer day, a young lady decided to take her life into her own hands. The young lady was called Mollie, because most of her friends didn't know her real name. On that summer day, Mollie decided to climb through rows and rows of Cedar trees to the top of a bald bluff overlooking the rushing creek. On top of the bluff was a young Dogwood tree which Mollie decided would help her in this particular case. When she awoke that morning, she had intended to hang herself, and that is exactly what she did. When she climbed on top of that bluff, she tied a rope around her neck that was connected to the tree. When reality hit her, she left claw marks all up and down the tree, indicating that she had made a mistake. No one really knows what had troubled her so bad to want to take her life, but something had to because she was determined.
My great-grandfather found her the next day and cut her down and brought her to his house where my great-grandmother wrapped her in a quilt that she had made and laid her to rest in that quilt. To this day, nothing grows on top of that bluff. Legend has it that if you are down near the bluff at night you can hear her screaming for help when she made that mistake.
The next time you decide to take a camping trip, remember the ghost of Mollie and what she went through on that determined summer day on the bluff of Swan Creek.
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