Nun-sense, it's just me......

--------------------------Today my mother and I planned to meet up with my cousin, Gina for a lunch date. After talking to Gina by phone and making arrangements to meet, I went down into my basement and dug around in my dress up box. Doesn't everyone have one of those? I dug past the Grease "pink ladies" costume, past my sombrero, and beneath the witches cloak and found it, my nun habit-or is it habat? I got dressed and made my way to the Purple Onion to meet for lunch. Luckily I arrived first. Moments later my cousin arrived. I hoped out of the car and headed for hers. She hadn't seen me. Just as she stepped out she turned around to lock her door. She made eye contact with me. It took a moment for her to process. "Leigh! I thought you were an actual nun, coming to ask me for a donation to the church".

It was almost the same everywhere I went. I had 2 Pelham police come up to me and make small talk before asking if I was a "real nun". I conceded. Next, I was off to the assisted living facility. My husbands grandmother is a devout catholic with a super senses of humor. I knew she would love and appreciate my outfit. I found her in the dining hall and approached. "Peg." She looked, "Hello", she answered. "It's Leigh". "Hi", she said, still not realizing who I was. "It is your grand daughter Leigh". She looked at me with great surprise. "Leigh!!!", she exclaimed as she looked me up and down. I had my mother photograph the two of us together so that I could print it out and give to Peg. She loves to send photographs to her sister that lives in Connecticut. After pictures a gentleman approached me and said, "Hi. It has been such a long time since I have seen a nun in traditional authentic dress. Why is that?" I answered, " I 'm not sure, but I am not an authentic". He and I both had a chuckle over it.

On the way out the lady at the front desk didn't recognize me. When I told her who I was, she asked, "When did this happen?", pointing to my habit. I said, "No, it's for Halloween". "I forgot it was Halloween!", she exclaimed. I love moments like this. The positive feedback ended when I drove to the Pelham civic complex where my son was filming the volleyball tournament for a class . I telephoned my son to come outside for a moment. There I stood. He came outside the building and looked my way and I waved. He approached little closer, then realizing that I was his mother he turned around and left without speaking a word. Oh, boy. Some people are so touchy. Bless him. I hope there will be peace when he gets home from school. "Peace be with us all".

The Legend of the Bell Witch

(Copied) According to the annals of supernatural history, the story of the Bell Witch started in 1817 when the Bell family, prosperous farmers from Tennessee, began experiencing strange phenomena in their home. First, the house was plagued with knocking and rapping noises and scratching sounds. Blankets were pulled from beds, family members were kicked and scratched and their hair pulled. Particularly tormented was a 12-year-old Betsy Bell, who was slapped, pinched, bruised and stuck with pins. At first, John Bell was determined to keep the events secret, but soon confided in a friend , who then formed an investigative committee.
John Bell's friends soon learned that the strange force in the house had an eerie intelligence. It soon found a voice and from that day on. . .was seldom silent.The spirit identified itself as the "witch" of Kate Batts, a neighbors of the Bell's, with whom John had experienced bad business dealings over some purchased slaves. "Kate" as the local people began calling her, made daily appearances in the Bell home, wreaking havoc on everyone there. People all over the area of soon learned of the witch and she made appearances, in sounds and voices, all over Robertson County.The ghost became so famous that even General Andrew Jackson decided to visit. He too experienced the antics of the witch and his carriage wheels refused to turn until the witch decided to let them.
John Bell fell victim to bouts of strange illness, to which "Kate" claimed responsibility. While he was sick in bed, the spirit cursed and prodded him, never allowing him to rest. One day, he went to bed and never recovered. He was found senseless in his bed one morning and a strange bottle was found nearby. Bell's breath smelled of the black liquid in the bottle, so a drop of it was placed on the tongue of a cat. . .the animal dropped dead. John Bell soon followed suit and "Kate" screamed in triumph. She even made her presence known at his funeral, laughing, cursing and singing as the poor man was buried.
"Kate" didn't vanish immediately after the death of her proclaimed enemy though. She stayed around, threatening Betsy Bell to not marry the man that she truly loved, Joshua Gardner. The witch would never say why, but she did allow the girl to later marry the local schoolteacher, Richard Powell. "Kate" soon left the family but promised to return in seven years. She did come back and plagued the family again for two weeks. Before departing, she appeared at the home of John Bell Jr. and made a number of predictions that Bell recorded. The warning proved true, reflecting the Civil War and the later World Wars of the next century.
"Kate" said that she would return again 107 years later, in 1935, but the year came and went without incident.Who was the Bell Witch? Was she really a ghost, who claimed to be connected to a living person? Or did the resentment and the hatred of the real Kate Batts create an entity of it's own? Or could the haunting have been poltergeist activity linked to Betsy Bell? No one will ever know for sure. . .but whoever, or whatever, the Bell Witch was, many believe that she has never left Adams, Tennessee at all.
Located near where the Bell Farm once stood and near the old family cemetery, where many of the Bell's still rest, is what has become known as the Bell Witch Cave. The cave has no real connection to the legend of the witch but it is located on property once owned by the Bell family. Many in Robertson County believe that when the witch departed, she fled to the sanctuary of this cave. Whether the Bell Witch is here or not.... the cave is a very haunted place.
The Bell Witch Cave can be reached by exiting Interstate 24 near Clarksville, Tennessee and following Highway 76 to Adams, Tennessee. The cave can be found by turning left after the Amoco Station onto Keysburg Road. Go about a half mile on Keysburg Road and turn right at sign. Admission to the cave is only $7 per person and well worth the cost. Call ahead for tour times! (615) 696-3055 or click here to visit the Bell Witch Cave Official Website!

The Ghost of Sewanee

(Photography by Leigh)

One of my most favorite places is Sewanee, Tennessee. The University of the South is located in Sewanee and gives the small town it's stability and charm. Sewanee is one of the mort peaceful places that is steeped rich in history. It is about a 3 hour drive from Birmingham, Al (or mapquest it from your location). You would think that there's nothing strange about Sewanee, Tennessee but this place has it's fair share of ghosts. Ghosts are so common here many people don’t even think about it anymore. Some people say these tales are not true but not all the inhabitants of Sewanee are really alive.These are some of the spooky things that have happened here recently.The ghost of a young Indian warrior is often observed mailing a letter at a Sewanee post office.
A female shape has been observed on a few occasions by a man camping at a campground outside Sewanee.The ghost of a badly mangled hunter dragging a dead bear has sometimes been observed seated at a table in a Sewanee house.
A black cat that turned into a woman can be witnessed very often sitting in a chair in a house in Sewanee. A man with no head has sometimes been seen going through the fridge in the kitchen of a Sewanee home in the early morning hours.The ghost of a woman with a bag tied around her head was spotted walking from house to house in the early morning hours before sunrise on a Sewanee street. The witness fled when she saw the ghost. One of the most infamous ghost of Sewanee is the the ghost of a headless student (dubbed the "Phantom Gownsman") who roams the buildings. When you visit Sewanee you can certainly feel the presence of historical spirits. Why, just look at the "orb" in my photo that I took at the cemetery. For real...

More Animal/Pumpkin Images of Halloween

Spirits Hover over the Chickamauga Battlefield

Some of the most chilling haunted places in the south are spots that were marked by the epic battles of the Civil War. In the southeast corner of the state is the Chickamauga Battlefield, a bloody battleground where thousands of men lost their lives. There are many legends told of the place, including that of "Old Green Eyes", a frightening apparition that is said to still walk the battlefield today. The photo was taken several years ago on the Snodgrass Battlefield by myself. My husband and I had stayed at the Captain Quarter's Bed and Breakfast for our anniversary(which I highly recommend http://www.captains-qtrs-inn.com/). The battlefield was in back of the B&B. In the photo, over Big Daddy's shoulder, to the left of the cannon-be sure to notice the fog, or-was it spirits -that loomed over the battlefield at dusk. It didn't look like fog, but like smoke. Perhaps a trace of history from another dimension of the battles that took place on that very spot??Believe me, it was no "special effect" by me or otherwise. I had to have Tom pull the car over to capture this shot. Ohhhhhh, ahhhhhh.......yeow!
(Be sure and read the link provided. The information is most fascinating!!)


BTW-the following is a link to a blog, Lisa Williams Mussings, where if you comment and or write a short story on yoru own ghost story you can win a prize. http://laurawilliamsmusings.blogspot.com/2007/10/book-review-giveaway-when-ghosts-speak.html

The Hook Hand

This ghost story comes courtesy of good family friend (who happens to be my, my husband and my brother's former middle school principal of Simmons Jr High) Bob Chapman. Bob claims that this actually happened to a friend of his and that he was at the actual parking spot when this happened.

On a summer night in Alabama, a boy and a girl drive out to a spot on a brow known as lovers lane, where overly hormonal teens would park and make out. Parked in the darkness, they heard on the radio that a man escaped from a local State Hospital, several miles from the local high school, and was terrorizing innocent people on a murder-spree. He was described to have lost his hand and years ago it had been replaced by a large metal hook. He had hacked off his own hand in a fit of madness , trying to escape a pair of handcuffs years earlier.
The boy thought nothing of it, switched off the radio and turned his attention to his girlfriend.
Suddenly, small noises erupted from nearby. The girl pulled away, frightened. "I'm scared. You know, about what they said on the radio? Maybe we should go home."
"No way, do you want your parents to find out we didn't go to the movies? Just relax." As they picked up where they left, they didn't hear anything for a while until there was a loud screech on the door, obviously coming from the girl's side of the car.
"That's it, take me home! It's not safe out here!"
Her boyfriend, senselessly frustrated, reluctantly agreed. He complained all the way home, insulting her for "being such a baby". Barely waiting for the car to stop, the girl angrily opened the door and got out of the car as they pulled up to her driveway. Slamming the car door, ready to go inside, she froze, staring at the car. She started to scream.
The boy, growing a bit alarmed, got out of the car and walked around to her side, where he too, stopped where he stood and could only stare at the door handle in frightened amazement. Found hanging from the car door, was a bloody hook, just dangling in place.

This is another urban legend that I have heard told in different ways, but basically the same. Bob claims it is true. But then again, that's just Bob. I believe the original origin of this tale came from Texarcana. There is a fine write up on it Here: http://www.crimelibrary.com/serial4/texarkana/index.html

The lady and the Raincoat

Even as a child, I loved to hear ghost stories and watch scary movies. Often times my childhood neighbors and I would gather in the yard across the street form my childhood home and tell ghost stories. My mother also likes to spin a few herself from time to time. One particular story she said, came from a co worker of her's named Tom...

Tom, was driving home from a country-club dance late one Saturday night. It was pouring down rain and late. As he drove past the Trussville Cemetery, out of the corner of his eye appeared a lovely young girl, dressed in the sheerest of evening gowns, beckoning him for a lift. He jammed on his brakes, and motioned her to climb into the back seat of his sedan. "What on earth is a lady like you doing out here all alone at this time of night? Here", Tom said pulling his raincoat out of the backseat. "Take this to warm you".
"It's too long a story to tell you now," said the girl. Her voice was sweet and comforting. "Please, please take me home. My car broke down a few miles back and I have been trying to get help for the longest time. I live up the road about 5 miles. I do hope it's not too far out of your way."
"Sure. It's no problem". Along the way Tom and the young lady talked and seemed to be hitting it off. Tom was intrigued and fascinated by this lady, who called herself Judy. He asked Judy for a date the following evening.As they entered the drive, Tom noticed that Julie was still shivering. "You are still chilled to the bone. Wear my raincoat inside, I will get it from you tomorrow evening".
The next day Tom went to Julie's house and knocked on the door. An old woman answered and he asked her if Julie was at home. The lady looked surprised to have a visitor. Tom went on to explain that he had given Julie a ride home the night before, as she had car trouble in the rain. He went on the tell the old lady of the nice chat they had and that they had a scheduled date for this evening.
The woman had a sad look and asked him if this was some kind of joke. Tom insisted that it was no joke. She informed him that Julie had died 5 years before after she had been out on a date. Her date left her in the middle of no-where and she was hit by a truck while walking home on a dark road. "How can that be?", asked Tom.
Tom looked so confused when she told him this story that she told him that she would show him Julie's grave, as she was buried close by at the cemetery in Trussville. They drove a short distance and in the back corner of the large cemetery was where they would find Julie's place of burial. Both the woman and Tom were surprised to find Tom’s coat folded neatly laying on the grave.
I have through the years heard similar versions of this urban legend. As a child, though, it never got old. Even today as I drive past that big cemetery in Trussville, I think of young Julie's grave, and I always, always look out for a raincoat to be sitting out there somewhere.

Ghost Haunts Courthouse

In Columbiana the old Courthouse on Main streetis said to be haunted. Reporters have investigated and its said to be haunted by a ghost that occupies the top floor. It was an old courthouse but now just a museum to artifacts of a variety of old things. The blinds open and shut by themselves, knocking can be heard in the upstairs kitchen and bathroom. A door was sealed off in the bathroom and the knocking usually comes from outside the door, only outside the door is nothing but the world. A wall was built behind the door and the knocking and noises and much movement have yet to be explained.

Halloween is for the Dogs

When Pets Dress up for Halloween

Adamsville Haunted by Indian Spirits?

This tale was told to me by an Adamsville, Alabama resident. I do not know of it's truth. The setting is - Indian Meadows - The community of Indian Meadows and its sister community Shady Grove, both built over an ancient Cherokee Indian burial ground, have had several hauntings reported over the last two decades. At night, dark figures have been seen scurrying about in the woods on the outskirts of the neighborhoods. Some brave souls who dare walk the streets at night say they can feel or even hear someone following them but turn around to find that no on is there. People have reported hearing scratching noises outside their houses late at night. One man heard a scratching sound on his front porch late at night, and every time he turned on the porch light to investigate, nothing was there, but the next morning he found claw marks down the banister of the porch. Some see the shadows of people (possibly the spirits of the restless Indians) rushing past their windows at night but investigate to find no one outside. In several homes, people have reported hearing footsteps late at night in hallways or on stairs, doors slamming shut by themselves, voices calling out their names, electrical equipment going on and off by itself, and even the sound of someone or something running through the house. In one house, the face of a crying man appeared on several of the doors in the house all at once. Try walking the streets of Indian Meadows or Shady Grove at night and you just night have your own creepy experience.

Transmission or not?

This entry on my blog sort of ties into the theme of October....Some years ago, back in the 80's, my mother had a 1979 cutlass supreme. She was quite fond of those cars. They seemed reliable and she thought it was a good looking car. She held onto them for as long as she could before she would get rid of it, only to buy another. As I recall, her '79 supreme had a bad transmission. She checked around town and found the cost for a new transmission was more than she wanted to pay for her somewhat older car. She quickly found she would need to have the transmission rebuilt or to buy one at a junk yard. My mother is also fond of her horse and mule. One hot day in August she set off on a tail ride with a friend of hers. They rode for hours, eventually wandering into the tiny city of Lipscomb, Alabama. They rode down the street of one neighborhood, getting some stares before getting back into some tree lined power lines where they continued onward.
One would have to know my mother, but this lady leaves nothing behind (yes, that is where I get it...). If she passes a hammer in the middle of the road she stops and gets it and delights at her newly found treasure. As they rode this trail, in the August heat, my mother noticed a abandoned transmission off to the side of the trail in the brush. Certain, she assumed, from a car that had been stripped. She began to get a little excited. As she came in closer she was calculating the money she would save by finding this transmission she could use for her car. As she approached, her heart sank a little, realizing what she thought was a transmission was only a roll of carpet disposed. Then she came right up to the carpet. It was about that time the smell hit.
"That's a body!" she yelled to her friend (who became sick at the stomach at the site). It was indeed a body. She had found herself on a murder scene-in the middle of nowhere. This was long before cell phones, or at the very least she had a bag phone which was not on her person or on a horse. They were dumbfounded as to what to do. My mother feared they were being watched. They got back on their horses and rode until they found a service station, where they used a pay phone to call police. The police met them at the station and had my mom and her friend lead them to the scene. My mother realized that the deceased persons hands were missing, as was one foot. She wondered why. An investigation ensued and arrest were made. It turned out that the deceased was a young man, a drug informant. Apparently the informant was discovered and his life taken. After the man had been shot his limbs were removed-as pointed out by police, for harder identification of the individual. His killer was brought to trail and is serving life for his murder.
My mother came home that day with quite a tale. It was one that I will never forget. Moral of the story-transmissions are not always as they appear. You are better off to pay a little more $$ than to become part of a murder investigation.

The Crying Baby

As a kid, I loved going to visit my cousins that lived in Gadsden. There was always a source nearby , a way of scaring the crud out of one another with ghost stories of the area. One night we piled into a car with my cousin Gina and some of her friends and paid a visit to the Haunted Bridge (on Pleasant Hill Road near Noccalula Falls) . Legend has it that a couple were having a fight. The woman ran away with the baby to the trees near the bridge on Black Creek. The man got on his carriage and started searching for the wife. The woman appeared at the foot of the bridge, scared the horses, and was knocked down with the baby into Black Creek. The baby unfortunately drowned. Since then, many paranormal activity has supposedly taken place there. Reported sounds are carriage wheels, a baby's cry, screams, splashes, and other noises which are unexplainable. Sometimes people claim see an ethereal woman walking near the bridge. A house near the bridge reportedly had to have an exorcism to get rid of the "active" spirits. My aunt recently told me that the bridge has been relocated to the grounds of Noccolula Park. We never heard any cries, or anything more than the cries of one another in fear. Ah, the memories....

The Tale of Granny Dollar, Famous DeKalb Indian

The Tale of Granny Dollar, Famous DeKalb Indian
(Read more at the DeKald Tourism website, http://www.tourdekalb.com/history%20-%20Granny%20Dollar.htm )
Granny Dollar sketch by Jackie Mattox

Because of my recent travels to Dekalb County, I will begin the haunted story telling with one of the area's most infamous ghost, "Granny Dollar". The tale of "Granny Dollar," one of the most colorful characters and rugged individualists who ever lived in the Fort Payne area, has long captured the imagination of those who have heard of this Cherokee Indian’s century of varied experiences. Assuming that all the information given by Granny Dollar in an interview in 1928 is factual, these absorbing tales of her strange life certainly bear repeating; indeed, the legend of such a rare person should never die.
According to an article which appeared in the January 28, 1928 issue of the Progressive Farmer, this friendly old woman, who lived on Lookout Mountain about nine miles from Fort Payne enjoyed reminiscing and talking to visitors. She was Nancy Callahan Dollar, affectionately called "Granny" or "Grandma," though her many experiences never included that of motherhood. She said she was 101 at the time of the interview, but she remembered the early days of childhood well.
Born on Sand Mountain in Buck’s Pocket eight miles east of Coffeetown, Nancy was the daughter of a Cherokee father named William Callahan and a half Cherokee Indian, half Irish mother.
Nancy Emmaline Callahan Dollar, who came to be known as “Granny Dollar,” is buried beside her husband in Little River Cemetery. On her tombstone are the dates “1826-1931.” She died January 29, 1931, but her birth date is uncertain.
There is no doubt that she was what is known as “a character.” Her mother, Mary Sexton, was Scottish, and her father was a tall full-blooded Cherokee Indian. William Callahan, two wives, and some twenty-six children lived in Buck’s Pocket, a five-miles-long gorge on Sand Mountain in DeKaIb, Jackson and Marshall counties.
When the Cherokees were forced into the long march westward called “The Trail of Tears,” the Callahan family hid in a cave in Buck’s Pocket. Later William Callahan was involved in a fracas with local residents, and fearing revenge, he moved his family to Marthasville, near Atlanta, Georgia.Nancy inherited her father’s stature, rugged features, and tremendous lung power. During the Civil War she drove a mule wagon on a regular route from Marthasville to country stores within thirty miles’ radius. This she continued for almost twenty years. During the Civil War her fiance, Tom Porter, was killed in battle, as was her father.
In her seventies, Granny married Norman Dollar and moved to the Mentone area. Twenty years later, her husband died. She managed to buy his tombstone by selling her cow. From this time until her death eight years later, the legends grew around Granny Dollar. She enjoyed embellishing the stories told about her and encouraged their telling. She told fortunes and managed to survive by growing chickens and vegetables and by the generosity of friends and neighbors.
Her last years were spent on Colonel Milford Howard’s property. The ruins of her cabin are almost hidden from DeKaIb County Highway 156 on the south side of the road a short distance east of DeSoto Parkway. The chimney still stands and vines have taken over the decaying ruins. Across the paved road a dirt road meanders up a hill to the former site of Colonel Howard’s Master School.
Colonel Howard is responsible for much of the legend surrounding Granny Dollar. In 1928 he wrote a feature story about her for The Birmingham News. He met Granny upon his return from a long stay in California. She had then settled into one of his cabins. Although his financial situation was precarious, Howard agreed to Granny’s desires, which included a bit of fat meat in her greens and biscuits, her “baccy” for her ever-present corncob pipe, and rations for her “Injun” chickens and mongrel dog Buster.
Preparing for her own demise, Granny had saved twenty-three dollars toward a tombstone, but the money was stolen from her. People in the community arranged for her burial, and Colonel Howard delivered the eulogy. Soon afterward Buster had to be put to sleep and he was buried in the yard near Granny Dollar’s cabin, with Colonel Howard again delivering the funeral oration.
The ghosts of an old mountain woman and her dog are sometimes seen walking through the woods around this rural waterfall or near the ruins of her old cabin. Some say Nancy Dollar's ghost was looking for thieves who stole the money she set aside for a proper tombstone. She was 108 years old when she died in January 1931. Friends put her old dog Buster to sleep and buried him too. However, thieves broke into the cabin and stole the money Granny had set aside for her funeral, so no tombstone was set over her grave. That did not set too well with Granny. Her ghost was seen in the area so many times that people took up a collection in 1973 and had a marker placed. That seemed to satisfy the old lady, but the phantom of Buster, her faithful dog, is still seen.
In 1973, largely through the efforts of Annie Young of Fort Payne, Granny’s tombstone was erected. The head of an Indian woman is inscribed at the top and “Daughter of the Cherokee” is written at the bottom.

Kathryn Tucker Windham visits Helena and weaves her tales

  By Leigh Bratina for The Helena City News

There were some lucky people that packed into the Helena City Hall on Friday, July 6. Many at the free but registration-required event probably didn’t realize the zenith of joy they would experience during the evening. Jane B. Holmes Public Library Director Victoria Ashford had something great in store. She arranged for the legendary author Kathryn Tucker Windham to come and speak or "tell tales" as Windham would say. Initially the event was to take place in the library meeting room, but with an overwhelming response, it was moved to city hall.
Kathryn Tucker Windham, a young 89, spent the evening recalling stories of days- gone-by with the sharpness of someone in their youth. It was as though listeners boarded a time-machine and were transformed back into the past. Today, she is one of America’s best-loved storytellers. Windham was born in Thomasville, Alabama in 1918, but today she calls Selma home. Windham is the author of 25 books, is a playwright, an accomplished photographer and popular public television and radio personality. Her ghost stories, which she first collected in Thirteen Alabama Ghosts and Jeffrey, have been favorites for generations. Her thoughtful and poignant stories about growing up and living in the South secured her an audience of all ages when she was featured on National Public Radio. Her commentaries are still heard every Friday morning at 7:30 a.m. on Alabama Public Radio.
Though ghost stories are what brought Windham her fame, she has also written several cookbooks and collections of stories recalling "the good old days" and is a renowned historian. Many in the historical community would agree that her work is documentation of Alabama’s social history. As interesting as her books may be, you really haven’t experienced Kathryn Tucker Windham’s greatest gift until you have seen or heard her "tell a tale." Windham offered listeners stories of yesteryear that were filled with humor and detail as well as words of advice ranging from, "If everyone would take a daily nap, the world would be a better place. Some people need to sleep longer than others" to the ever important, "Never! Never! Never put sugar in cornbread!" Mrs. Windham stood before the crowd and wove a tapestry of vivid tales for two hours which flew by much too quickly.
She was extremely gracious and took questions from the crowd before offering to sign books and calling it a night. Windham’s stories have a way of grounding us in some way. They remind us all of what’s important, of a vanishing way of life now being replaced with shopping malls, computers and answering machines. Windham views telling stories as a common thread linking each of us together. "All southerners are born to tell stories, we need to tell stories. We need to tell them more—a whole lot more, there is something about story telling that binds us all together," she said.
Mrs. Windham’s speaking engagement was made possible by the Jane B Holmes Public Library and its director, Victoria Ashford, the library staff and the following sponsors: FOX6 WBRC-TV, Publix at Crow’s Corner, Best Western - Riverchase Inn and ACE Hardware of Helena. Jane Boyd Holmes Public Library, located behind city hall at 230 Tucker Road, has a staff trained to assist you with your information needs. Drop by the library and practice what Mrs. Windham preaches, "If you can read, you can learn anything you need to know."