Superstitions and Ghost Stories
How do you keep your wife faithful? According to popular lore, one way to control "triflin around" is to do just what the man in the photo is doing--prepare a "pawpaw cunjer." Reportedly, the cunjer must be carried out in this manner: go into the woods at midnight and bore a hole in the crotch, or fork, of a pawpaw tree. In the hole, place a conglomerate wad of human hair, dried blood, fingernail clippings, a piece of women's underwear, and something resembling beeswax (to cause the ingredients to stick together, presumably). Next, drive a wooden peg into the hole while muttering a secret biblical quotation. If the superstition holds true, your wife will be forever faithful. If not, you probably chose the wrong secret verse to mutter.
Legends, myths, tall tales, songs, crafts, and dance all reveal the beliefs and practices of a people. Included in the categories of folkway and folklore are the ghost stories and superstitions passed through generations. Writers of Ozarks lore have compiled a fair amount of superstitions that have enduring appeal.
The following examples have been excerpted from Let Me Tell You About Ozarks Superstitions, a small booklet authored by Fern Angus. Most of them, though, are common saws among Ozarkians.
Signs and Seasons
If it rains before seven, it will stop before eleven.
If you throw a dead snake up and it lights on its back, it's a sign that it will rain.
When hogs carry sticks in their mouth, it is a sign of a change in weather.
A white Christmas foretells a lean graveyard.
Thick corn husks denote a bad winter. Low hanging hornets' nests predict a long winter.
Luck Superstitions
Never move a cat or a broom.
Never button a new garment before it is worn.
Never close a gate that you found open.
If a spider lights on you it is good luck, and you will receive money.
Each piece of fruitcake you eat during the holiday will bring you luck for each month of the year.
Bubbles on the top of your coffee cup indicates you will have money.
It's All in the Dream
Dream of sweet, ripe apples, you will have pleasure, happiness, and joy.
Dream of sour, green apples, you will have an argument with a friend.
If you dream of worms, it is a sign of a great personal loss.
Dreams in the night are the Devil's delight.
Dreams in the morning are the Angel's warning.
Death Signs
If a bird flies in the house, death follows.
Hang your boots on the wall with toes pointed toward the wall is a sign of your death.
Miscellaneous
If a rooster crows near the back door, company's coming.
To keep the Devil away, throw salt over your left shoulder.
Never give a knife as a gift; it will cut friendship.
Misfortunes come in threes.
Small ears indicate a stingy personality.
If you rock a cradle empty, you will have babies a'plenty.
To take the last piece of pie, biscuit, or from a plate is a sign that the girl will be an old maid.
Marry in green; ashamed to be seen.
Marry in brown; you'll move into town.
Marry in blue; you'll always be true.
Marry in yellow; ashamed of your fellow.
Marry in black; you'll wish yourself back.
Though some Ozarkians consider tales of waterwitching to be mere superstition, others swear by the art. The witcher takes a forked branch and holds it tightly by the tongs, palms up, with the limb where the tongs meet sticking straight up in the air. As the water witcher walks across the ground, the limb twists toward the ground above or near a water supply.
Water witching--or divining, as it is sometimes called--has a long history. Stories of water witchers date back as far as the Middle Ages. Reportedly, many Ozarkians have used this skill in figuring out where to dig their wells. More skillful water witchers are able to determine how deep beneath the earth's surface the water supply is and how much water the source is likely to release when tapped (Massey 263-65).
It seems that people everywhere are intrigued by stories about strange or mysterious happenings, and there is a considerable interest in ghost stories. Television, movies, and books abound as testimony to the fascination with this unexplainable phenomena. Even more engaging are stories told to us by people we know.
No doubt that these stories have changed in content and meaning with each telling, much like the game of Gossip played as children, but that does not detract from our interest in hearing the stories; and we suspect that there are many experiences not told by our friends and neighbors for fear of being thought strange and mysterious themselves. Likewise, a scientific or psychological explanation for the origins of most ghost stories can probably be given, but the fact is, within the oral tradition in each of the world's cultures, past and present, stories of ghosts appear. It is no different in the Ozarks.
The telling of ghost stories was a social custom of the isolated Ozarkian families in the 19th century. The belief in haints or haunts (ghosts) and the telling of visionary tales are as much a part of the hillbilly culture as barn raisings, hog killings, and quilting bees. Harold Bell Wright felt compelled to weave one into the material of his novel The Shepherd of the Hills. Visitors are captivated by tales of Confederate ghosts seen guarding buried payroll notes. Siblings squabble over who will be first to tell about the ghost of great-aunt Sue. They can be tales of the past or present. They are told by the young and the old. It seems everyone has a story to tell. Ghost stories can be sad, frightening, ludicrous, funny, or a solace. There are tales of ghostly mischief-makers, ministering angels, or tragic victims of violent deaths.
Would you believe. . .
. . . that a young woman, lying in bed and crying one afternoon, was suddenly visited by a favorite aunt, long dead, smiling and offering wordless comfort to the distressed niece?
. . . that the figure of a little brother, recently deceased, was seen following his siblings home on a bright afternoon?
. . . that a brother's portrait-like face appeared on the wall near his sister who lived several states away and did not know that the brother had died two days earlier?
. . . that a group of lawyers, judges, teachers, and businessmen heard a farmer's dead daughter singing to them from the woods nearby?
. . . that the muffled screams, cries, and groans often heard on Breadtray Mountain are those of Spanish soldiers killed by Indians?
. . . that a cabin in the woods, smoke coming from its chimney, vanished overnight?
. . . that a beautiful woman, dressed in a bridal gown, has walked across a field carrying wildflowers for several decades?
. . . that the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, is haunted by many ghosts?
. . . that an odd, bluish light floats in zig-zag fashion along creek banks and graveyards?
. . . that the ghost of Dorthy Worman still strolls the grounds of Devil's Pool at Big Cedar Lodge?
Viola Hartman recounts the tale of the "Ghost of Gobbler's Knob":
He was Hardin Warren, and the story went that when the moon rode the crest of a lonely cloud he would be there, riding his big black stallion over the ridges and through the hollows, his shotgun across the saddle and his jug of corn slung from the saddle horn. His silhouette could often be seen on a rise above Coon Creek where he paused to unhook the jug, lift it in the crook of his elbow, and take a long drink. Uncle Hardin, they said, had a turrible thirst for liquor. . . (5).
The ghostly visions of the Ozarkians are often believed to be beloved family members coming back to offer help or comfort. The following is this author's account of a recent family story:
My sister-in-law had been fighting a two year battle with cancer. Her condition had declined steadily despite the finest of spiritual and medical care. She ultimately reached the point where hospitalization was the only option left. Her fight was ending, and the family realized her death was near. Her brothers and sisters stayed at the hospital in shifts for days, but on what became her last evening, everyone felt the need to be together with her.
It was a little after midnight, and I was at home waiting to hear from my husband. The lamp by the window was on and light from it projected onto the drapery like a spotlight. I was looking in the direction of the lighted curtain when I saw what appeared to be my sister-in-law and a man that I thought to be Jesus. She was sitting up on her hospital bed holding out her arm toward the man standing above her. He reached down his hand toward her, and she took it in hers. The whole vision lasted no more than a few seconds.
Two hours passed, then I received a phone call from my husband telling me that his sister was gone. She died around midnight. The family would stay together for the remainder of night, and he would see me later in the next morning.
I did not tell him about the vision. It didn't seem to be the right time for that. I told myself then that what I had seen was a vision from God. Some might say it was simply wishful thinking. Whatever it was, it was comforting, and I didn't feel the need to tell anyone about it. I didn't think they would have believed it anyway.
Six months passed; it was Thanksgiving Day, and we gathered with my husband's family at Grandma's house for dinner. During the course of the day, their conversation turned toward their memories of the departed sister. I was told then that a strange thing happened on the day she died. All day long, family members would try to hold her hand, but she kept pushing their hands away. She didn't want to be touched. But, then, just before she died, she stretched out her hand toward the ceiling and closed her hand as if she had taken hold of something. She became peaceful and died.
It was only then that I told what I had seen in my house miles away at approximately the same time my sister-in-law died. None of us can explain how it happened, but we all felt comforted.
The "ghosts yarns" are not always of human origin. They aren't always told for seriousness.There are numerous, humorous animal ghost stories. There are house stories, haunted train stories, and even haunted car stories. This one, "Hainted Car," is included in Ozark Tall Tales.
The preacher was setting in the church house, long after ever'one else had gone home, waiting for the fire in the stove to die out, reading his Bible. It was cold, dark, and the wind howled around the old wood-frame church, banging the shutters. The preacher, he scattered the coals in the ash, turned the damper, and closed the stove; blew out the coal oil lamps and latched the shutters.
It was Halloween night; fell on a Sunday that year. Preacher swung shut the door to the church and turned the old iron key. Now, he weren't a superstitious feller, but he plumb shuddered in that wind as he pulled his coat up tight and commenced to walk down the rock road to the farmhouse where he was staying the night.
He had to go over one hillock and through two hollers to get to where he,s going, and on the hillock stood the graveyard. Down in the first holler, he thought he heard something on the road a-hind him. He stopped and turned to look, but there weren't no moon, and it was as dark as the insides of a cow. He walked on. A minute later, climbing up toward the graveyard, he thought he heard something again. He stopped and turned to listen. He couldn't hear no hooves, nor traces of jangling, so he knowed it weren't no wagon. He couldn't hear no engine running, so he figgered t' weren't no car.
He walked on, and just a-fore the edge of the graveyard, he heard it the third time - a low sound, like something horrible heavy, stalking him slow, crunching rock underfoot as it come. Something big and dark moved up the road at him, bigger'n a bear!
He backed a couple steps, then turned and was fixin' to run for it, when the thing come up against the sky and he seen it was an automobile, but thought its lanterns lit, movin, slower'n he'd ever seen one move, and making no sound a-tall.
The car come up on him slow, and stopped a-side him.
"Well, thought Preacher, "it's some deacon on his way back from taking some sister home, and he's offering me a ride! Preacher stepped up to the car, open the door and got in, and leaned up to thank the driver.
The hainted car was empty cept for him.
Slowly, it commenced to move past the cemetery, no sound but the the crush of gravels under its wheels. At the big iron gate to the graveyard. . . it stopped.
"Well, thought Preacher, "I guess this is where I get out!"
He climbed out of the car and stepped to the gate, looking. All of a
sudden, he heard something a-hind the nearest stone, breathing heavy and
growly-like. Slowly, slowly, Preacher walked around the headstone. There
stood a deacon of the church, panting and blowing like somethin' was wrong
with him.
"Brother Dan, " said Preacher, "don't go near that car! There's something wrong about it!"
"I know, said Brother Dan. "I've been pushing the damn thing for a mile." (Young and Dockery 118-20)
Whatever their origin or purpose, ghost stories are an important part of the Ozarks' folklore tradition.
Works Cited & Consulted
Angus, Fern. Let Me Tell You About Ozarks Superstitions. Cassville, MO: Litho, 1993.
Farmer, Charlie. Devil's Pool: A History of Big Cedar Lodge. Springfield, MO: JLM Publishing Company, 1995.
Gilbert, Joan. "Halloween Is the Time For: A Few Ozarks Ghosts." The Ozark Mountaineer October 1991, p. 54.
Hartman, Viola. The Ghost of Gobbler's Knob and Other Tales of the Hill Country. Branson, MO: Mountain Country Marketing, 1982.
Images of ghosts from http://www.arttoday.com, member page, 11 July 1999.
Mahnkey, Douglas. Hill and Holler Stories. Branson, MO: The Ozarks Mountaineer, 1984.
Massey, Ellen Gray, ed. "Water Witching." Bittersweet Earth. Norman, OK: U of Oklahoma P, 1985, pp. 260-65.
Photograph and pawpaw cunjer instructions from Godsey Collection, Lyons Memorial Library, College of the Ozarks.
Photograph of water witching from Godsey Collection, Lyons Memorial Library, College of the Ozarks.
Randolph, Vance. Ozark Magic and Folklore. New York: Dover Publications, 1947.
Wright, Harold Bell. The Shepherd of the Hills. New York: Al Burt, 1907.
Young, Richard and Judy Dockery. Ozark Tall Tales. Little Rock, AR: August House, 1989.
