Tag Archives: legend

The Legend of Elias White (Ghost Story)

Informant’s Retelling:
“It all began in the dense, foggy woods of Bass Lake, a place so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat echoing through the trees. Legend has it that many years ago, a slave named Elias White escaped into these woods, never to return. Elias was a big man, known for his piercing white eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Some said he had a gift for seeing things others couldn’t—things that weren’t meant to be seen.

One cold October night, Elias vanished. The slave owner searched for days. When they caught him, he was hung. A group of young campers watched from the brush. Elias, hanging from a tree branch, staring at the hikers, screeched in a strangled voice: ‘The forest keeps what it takes.’

The woods became a forbidden place after that. People whispered about strange lights flickering between the trees and an eerie voice that called out to anyone who dared enter. But the most terrifying part? Those who ventured too far into Bass Lake claimed they saw two glowing white eyes watching them from the shadows.

Fast forward to a summer night not too long ago. A group of teenagers, much like you guys, decided to test the legend. They laughed off the warnings, armed with flashlights and bravado, and headed into the forest. As they ventured deeper, the air grew colder, the trees seemed to close in, and a strange silence fell over the group.

Then, they heard it—a low, raspy whisper. At first, it sounded like the wind, but the words became clear: ‘The forest keeps what it takes.’

Panic set in, but when they turned to leave, they realized the path they came from had vanished. The forest had shifted, trapping them in its maze. One by one, their flashlights began to flicker and die. And then, they saw him.

Standing between the trees was a figure cloaked in shadows, his glowing white eyes piercing through the darkness. He didn’t move, but the teens could feel his presence, heavy and suffocating, as if the forest itself was breathing down their necks.

One of the teens, desperate to escape, shouted, ‘What do you want from us?!’

The figure tilted its head, and in a voice that sounded like leaves crunching underfoot, it replied: ‘To see what you’ve seen.’

The next morning, the search party found the teens huddled together at the forest’s edge, pale and trembling. They were alive, but something had changed. Their eyes—every single one of them—had turned a ghostly white, glowing faintly in the sunlight. To this day, they refuse to speak of what they saw, but they all agree on one thing: ‘Elias White is still out there, watching, waiting… and the forest keeps what it takes.'”

Context:
My information first encountered this chilling legend at a summer camp, narrated by an older counselor around a nighttime campfire. The setting enhanced the story’s eerie effect, amplifying its emotional impact and embedding it deeply in their memory. According to them, counselors would often use the tale of Elias White as both entertainment and a subtle warning to campers not to stray into restricted or dangerous areas of the forest. My informant recounted that the legend served as a rite of passage among campers, marking their initiation into the collective camp culture and identity.

Analysis:
The legend of Elias White embodies classic motifs found in ghost stories—escape, pursuit, punishment, and enduring hauntings—and taps into broader themes of historical injustice, lingering guilt, and retribution. Elias’s ghost symbolizes unresolved historical traumas and the oppressive past of slavery, turning a personal tragedy into a supernatural warning.

This narrative structure effectively uses fear to reinforce community boundaries, functioning as both a cautionary tale and a mechanism for social control within the camp environment. The transformation of the teenagers’ eyes symbolically conveys a loss of innocence or an irreversible awareness of darker truths.

Additionally, the phrase “the forest keeps what it takes” alludes to nature’s dominion over humanity, reflecting anxieties around human vulnerability and the unknowable mysteries lurking just beyond civilization’s edge. Thus, the legend of Elias White persists not only as entertainment but as a potent reminder of historical injustices and the enduring power of folklore to express cultural anxieties and collective memories.

The Legend of Paul Bunyon

Text:
“The story that comes to mind for me is the legend of Paul Bunyan. The gist of the story is that Paul is a giant lumberjack who cut down trees in Wisconsin and Minnesota with his blue-colored ox, Babe. He goes on adventures, fights other giants, and helps to build up the Midwest. While I’ve heard many variations, these facts always stay the same, along with the ending—he goes west and drags his axe across the ground, carving the Grand Canyon.”

Context:
My informant first encountered the legend of Paul Bunyan around age 3 or 4, initially introduced by his grandfather during an overnight visit at his grandparents’ home. Shortly after, his parents continued sharing variations of the tale, reinforcing its familiarity. He specifically remembers his grandfather’s spontaneous storytelling, vividly associating it with the comfort of bedtime narratives. This story typically follows a serialized format, beginning with Paul finding and befriending his iconic companion, Babe the Blue Ox.

Beyond its role as a comforting bedtime story, my informant emphasized its significance as a source of regional pride, especially prominent within Wisconsin and Minnesota. He noted its pervasive presence in Northern Wisconsin, stating, “Paul is everywhere, and people are proud to say they come from his legacy.” The story functions as a cultural identifier, often shared with younger generations, family friends’ children, or even in casual conversations sparked by attire featuring Paul and Babe.

Analysis:
The legend of Paul Bunyan serves as more than mere entertainment; it actively reinforces a sense of community and cultural identity unique to the Midwest. Paul Bunyan’s mythos encapsulates a romanticized, larger-than-life portrayal of Midwestern pioneering spirit and resilience. By attributing major geographical landmarks—such as the Grand Canyon—to Paul’s extraordinary feats, the story implicitly elevates the cultural and historical importance of the region, framing the Midwest as foundational to America’s growth and folklore tradition.

Historically, Paul Bunyan emerged from oral storytelling traditions among loggers, symbolizing exaggerated but relatable qualities of strength, bravery, and ingenuity. These tales reinforce communal pride, distinguishing the Midwest culturally from other regions of the United States. Additionally, the informant’s experience highlights the legend’s intergenerational nature—passed down from grandparents to parents to children, symbolizing a collective effort to preserve regional heritage and foster a shared Midwestern identity.

In essence, Paul Bunyan’s enduring popularity underscores folklore’s capacity to bind communities together, foster regional pride, and sustain cultural continuity across generations.

How the Paoay Lake Formed

Text: A long time ago, there used to be a small town in the Ilocos Norte region in the Philippines. One day, an old beggar woman went there to beg for food, but they “cast her out.” She went to many houses, but many of them were not generous and despised her because of how dirty and  poor she looked. After visiting all the houses, the old woman said, “These rich people are selfish” and suddenly transformed into an angel. She then casted a spell and drowned the entire village—making it the Paoay lake that it is known today. Apparently, this legend has circulated around Ilocos Norte for years after this incident occurred and many people started to believe that the old woman did that. However, people say that years later, large pieces of houses and jewelry still surface. 

Context: This was the first legend my grandma had told me after I asked her to tell me a folk narrative of some kind. Lake Paoay is one of the biggest lakes in the Philippines and is found in Ilocos Norte which is where my family is from and where my grandma had spent the first half of her life. She had originally learned this legend from her parents and older relatives but also mentioned that this legend was always in circulation in the Ilocos Norte region and considered true by everyone invluding herself.

Analysis: At first, I thought that my grandma had told me a local legend of some kind. The Filipino region that I’m from is not really common among the Filipino-Americans I know, so I was curious to know how local this story really was. I looked it up on the internet and was surprised to find out that other legends that were entirely different from what my grandma had told me. I had found multiple sources siting a Sodom and Gammorah rivalry type legend about this lake, but with the same ending: it is true because there are bits of houses and jewelry that float up to the surface. I thought it was interesting how this part of the story had remained the same despite the stories differing a lot. I also thought about how my grandma’s version of it was similar to the beginning of something like the Beauty and the Beast story. A stuck-up rich person shunned an old beggar woman because of her appearance. I also can’t help but think that this version had emerged in our family specifically because of religious implication. My family, my grandma and all her older relatives specifically, was/are very religious and into Catholicism. Maybe this version was the one that was told, but was changed to be more religious to get the children to like Catholicism more.

A Cautionary Tale of Garlic and Onion

Nationality: American
Age: 32
Occupation: Unemployed
Residence: San Francisco, CA
Language: English

Text:
“Ever since I was little, my mom would always tell me the story of a bride who ate garlic the night before her wedding and ended up fainting at the altar. Both my brother and I were taught growing up not to eat super fragrant, pungent things on sacred days such as weddings or funerals, as you want to be sweet—in both scent and spirit. Thus, on the day of my wedding and the birth of my children, I did not eat garlic or onion. Also, when I was expecting my girls, I did not eat it either.”

Context:
This legend was shared by the informant, P, during a conversation about traditional Indian practices. P explained that the belief was passed down to her by her mother, who told her the cautionary legend of a bride passing out at the altar as a result of eating garlic the night before. This story taught P that pungent foods should be avoided on sacred days. She clearly deeply values this legend, as it guided her behavior during her wedding and the birth of her children.

Analysis:
This is a legend because it is telling a cautionary story that is believed to be true and is passed down to reinforce a specific cultural belief. The dramatic story of the bride fainting at the altar helps justify the belief that eating pungent foods on important days can cause bad luck. This legend highlights the Indian cultural value placed on purity and spiritual cleanliness during sacred days such as weddings or funerals. This practice, continuing through generations, highlights how legends can shape our everyday practices—especially during periods of transition.

“The Runner and the Man on the Horse”

1. Text

This narrative, titled The Runner and the Man on the Horse, was told to me by my grandmother JW, a member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. It is important to note that there are several oicotypes of this legend, but it is confirmed to be true by my great, great, great-grandmother. It is a traditional tale rooted in Indigenous storytelling practices, centering on a moment of challenge, pride, and resilience between a young Choctaw man named Hut Tecumseh and a non-Indigenous settler. The story is set in a time when cultural tensions between Native and settler communities ran seemingly high, and it functions on both literal and symbolic levels.

In the story, a “white man” rides into Choctaw territory. Annoyed by the intrusive presence of this man on the horse, a young Choctaw runner—barefoot, calm, and grounded—steps forward and quietly asserts that he can outrun the man on the horse. Several Choctaw members nearby react with curiosity and excitement.

The proposed race is simple: to a post set 250 yards down a dirt path and back again. The man on the horse laughs but agrees, confident in his superiority. At the start, the horse surges ahead, thundering with speed and strength. But the runner moves parallel to the horse. At the turning post, the runner doesn’t break stride. He grabs the post, pivots with precision, and slingshots himself back. By the time the horse turns, the runner is already far ahead. He reaches the finish calm, composed, and victorious.

The story triumphantly ends in Indigenous celebration with the idea that the man on the horse was forced to accept defeat. 

2. Context

This story was shared with me by my grandmother JW, a lifelong storyteller and member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. Her family lived on the reservation, and she learned this story from her ancestors, who treated it not only as a tale of physical skill but also as a teaching story—one that reflects cultural values about humility, pride, and the relationship between people and the land. She has informed me that this story is a part of a museum display in the Choctaw Nation Museum in Oklahoma.

JW told the story to me in English as she is the first generation of her family to not be fluent in Choctaw. For JW and her family, this was not a tale of competition for its own sake. It was a narrative about dignity in the face of colonial arrogance, discrimination, and the power of cultural memory. The barefoot runner wasn’t just a character, but rather a hero; he symbolized an enduring Choctaw identity—deeply connected to the land, spiritually resilient, and underestimated by those outside the community.

3. Interpretation

The Runner and the Man on the Horse fits within the category of a cultural legend, particularly one rooted in Indigenous oral tradition with historical and symbolic overtones. While it contains no overt supernatural elements, the story takes on mythic proportions in its structure, tone, and meaning. Its narrative affirms a communal identity that carries layered moral and historical implications.

The absence of supernatural motifs does not diminish its mythic resonance; instead, it draws power from the reality of the land and the people who inhabit it. The story reflects Indigenous epistemologies that center the land not as a backdrop, but as an active participant in cultural memory. The Choctaw runner becomes a representative of collective strength and ancestral wisdom, whose victory signals more than personal triumph—it affirms the endurance of a people and a worldview often marginalized or dismissed by dominant historical narratives.

At the core of the story is a contrast between two ways of being: one represented by the settler’s reliance on animal power, machinery, and boastful pride; the other embodied by the runner’s strength, discipline, and resilience. The legend critiques colonial arrogance and asserts the quiet power of Indigenous resilience. The runner’s victory is not just athletic—it is cultural, spiritual, and political. The story engages with themes discussed in class, including how folklore preserves historical values and asserts identity through performance and memory. The continued telling of this legend—even in English, and in a contemporary context—demonstrates how Indigenous folklore adapts while preserving the core values of balance, humility, strength, and cultural pride. JW’s version reflects not just the story itself, but the living tradition of storytelling that continues to sustain and affirm Choctaw identity across generations.

Date of performance: 4/01/25
Language: English
Nationality: Choctaw
Occupation: Retired
Primary Language: English
Residence: Modesto, CA