Category Archives: Legends

Narratives about belief.

The Story of Josh Friar

Nationality: American
Age: 22
Occupation: Student
Residence: Albany, NY
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English

This story is told at a summer camp in rural Pennsylvania.

Over by the lake, there used to be a huge house. It belonged to a man named Josh Friar. Josh was a very strange man, and very reclusive. He stayed in his house all year round, only leaving once a month to do his shopping in Towanda (the local town.) The townspeople always waited expectantly for his visit every month, for although he was strange and a recluse, every month he would have a new, beautiful woman with him. Blonde women, brunette woman, tall woman, short women–all different, and all stunning. One month Josh brought a particular beauty into town. She had fiery red hair, and bright green eyes. Everyone agreed she was the most beautiful woman Josh had ever brought. 

The next month, however, Josh didn’t come to town. Nor did he the next month. On the third month that Josh did not come to town, the townspeople decided to form a party and go check on him. They hiked out to the lake in the woods, and knocked on Josh’s door. There was no answer, but the door was unlocked. The men shrugged and opened it. Immediately they were overpowered by a hideous stench. It was so vile that several of the men ran outside and vomited. Despite the smell, several men still went inside. As they entered the dark house, the smell got worse and worse. Some had to leave because they couldn’t take it. Finally, someone found a light switch. When they turned it on, one of the men screamed. Everything in the house–the carpet, the walls, the furniture, everything–was covered in human flesh. It was so awful that some of the grown men cried or ran away. The few that remained decided they had to keep looking for Josh. They saw a staircase, and started to climb. As they climb, the smell got worse and worse. One man passed out. Finally, they reached the top of the stairs, and opened the door. Inside the room, sitting on a rocking chair, was the beautiful redheaded woman. And in her lap was the head of Josh Friar.

And one some dark nights, like this one, they say that he still walks these woods–the decapitated Josh Friar, searching for his head, with nothing but a green lantern, the same green as the bright green eyes of the woman who killed him.
This was a ghost story told at my informant’s childhood summer camp every year, usually at a bonfire on the Fourth of July. The camp policies didn’t allow most traditions, such as camp songs or stories, except for this and a few more told only on this night. Only one of the oldest, most experienced campers  will be allowed to tell the story, and every year, the camper with the honor does his or her best to make it new and exciting, even though everyone knows the story already.

At the last part, a green light will start flashing from the woods behind the speaker, to the screams of campers. This is done by another senior camper, and it is considered an honor.

The Story of Raggedy Ann of Towanda, PA

Nationality: American
Age: 22
Occupation: Student
Residence: Albany, NY
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English

There was once a young woman named Ann, who lived in the rural town of Towanda, Pennsylvania, with her parents, who loved her very much. They would always say to her, “Just remember, Ann, if you ever get into any trouble, any trouble at all, just run home. Run straight home, and we’ll be here.” One night Ann was driving out by the woods. A deer sprang out onto the road, and Ann, swerving to miss it, crashed her car. In the crash, the glass from the windshield shattered, and split through either side of her neck. Ann stumbled out of the car and ran home, but as she ran, her mostly-severed neck flopped back and forth–flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop. Her parents found her and rushed her to the hospital, but somehow in the crash Ann lost her mind and went insane. Her parents put her in a mental institute. One night, Ann escaped, so that she could run home to her parents. And on some nights, you just might see her, running through the woods, her head going flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop.

This was a ghost story told at my informant’s childhood summer camp every year, usually at a bonfire on the Fourth of July. The camp policies didn’t allow most traditions, such as camp songs or stories, except for this and a few more told only on this night. Only one of the oldest, most experienced campers  will be allowed to tell the story, and every year, the camper with the honor does his or her best to make it new and exciting, even though everyone knows the story already.

On the last line– “flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop”, Raggedy Ann herself comes running across through the words, her head flopping back and forth, to the screams of the campers. This is always another senior camper, and it’s considered an honor to play the part.

Albino Farm, Missouri

My informant is from Missouri, and he tells me that everyone in his town knows about the “Albino Farm” in Springlawn. There are all sorts of stories about the old abandoned farm. The one my informant heard the most was that there was once a family of angry albinos who had been shut off from the community because they were different. They had set traps and if anyone was ever found on their property, they were never heard from again. Another rumor is that it was an underground hospital where experiments were conducted on albinos, and is haunted by albino ghosts. Although my informant never tried to sneak in, many of his friends growing up did–or at least, they claimed too. No one ever brought back any proof.

A Cow in Old Main

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Minnesota
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English

My informant is a student at Macalester College, and on campus, there is a story that everyone knows. Around 1900, the president of Macalester had a son who attended the school. His son didn’t like to go to class, but instead liked to play pranks on everyone: his classmates, his professors, and especially his father, driving him crazy. There used to be a conference room on the fourth floor of the building known as Old Main, where the president would hold his important meetings.One day he was in a meeting when a cow wandered into the boardroom. The President immediately knew it was his son’s doing. So when his son’s GPA fell below a 2.8, his father kicked him out of Macalester, as a way of getting revenge. That rule (you’ll be expelled if your GPA falls below a 2.8) has been in place at Macalester ever since.

My informant is a tour guide at Macalester, and always tells this story to prospective freshman. “I first heard it during orientation right before freshman year,” he tells me. “It’s a funny story and I think it gives people on my tours a break from all the info for something cheesy. I think it’s pretty obvious that it’s just a device I’m using to poke fun at the school, but I also think it helps people realize that not all admissions offices see themselves as the gatekeepers in every single sense. I think it’s good to recognize we don’t take ourselves that seriously, and it helps build a relationship with prospective students.”


Poison (Folk Song)

 

 Charlie was a fiddle player, the best there was around
He and his fiancee were at the picnic ground
Charlie and his band would play the dance that summer night
But deep inside his heart he felt that something wasn’t right

His sister said, “You better keep an eye upon your girl
Rumor has it she’s been giving someone else a whirl.”
So Charlie had decided to spy on his bride-to-be
But never was he prepared to see what he would see

CHORUS:
Her love was poison
Her love was poison
She ran around with other boys and
Her love was poison 

He spotted her behind the bar in another’s hands 
The man he saw was Earl who played guitar in Charlie’s band 
Blood red sunset fell upon the couple’s dark embrace
And cast a long and desperate shadow over Charlie’s face

When that night he took the stage
Sadness mixed with jealous rage
Charlie gazed upon the crowd
Raised his voice, clear and loud 
What I fear has come to pass
In his hand a poison glass 
He swallowed it underneath the moon
And said, “I’m playing my farewell tune.” 

CHORUS 

As the last note died away, the fiddler did the same
They put him in an old pine box
With nails they sealed his fame
The summer sun in poison soon made his body swell
The casket nearly burst apart
And put forth quite a smell 

A green fly swarmed around and followed Charlie all the way
To the little meadow where forever he would lay 
And dream of fiddles, fiancees, and that fateful night
When Charlie played his farewell tune
Beneath the pale moonlight 

My informant is from the Republic, Missouri, where he comes from an enormous family of “Ozark Hillbillies” (as they refer to themselves) for generations. His entire extended family lives in the area, and together make up three separate family folk bands (and one huge family folk band, when they get together.) The family’s musical inclinations have gone back for generations. The bands are currently made up of my informant and his cousins, all generally between 20 and 50, and each of their parents had been in the bands before that. As they have children, they join the bands too (My informant has a six-year-old daughter who performs with the family from time to time.)

This song is from my informant’s family, and it has been passed down for at least three generations.  It is supposedly based on a true story of a family member from years past. In the YouTube clip included, it is being played by my informant’s cousin’s band, but everyone in the entire extended family knows it, and they sing it whenever they’re together in any group.