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Appalachian novels are full of superstitious characters, tellers of ghost stories, legends, or ballads. "There is often a pragmatic aspect to the songs, jokes, proverbs, rhymes, riddles, and superstitions that make up the body of Appalachian Folklore . . . the folktale, for example, seems designated to instruct and admonish, especially the young, and to inculcate a healthy respect for mystery" (Manning 440). We find characters with this "healthy respect for mystery" in all six of our Appalachian novels. Below is a list of select quotes from each book.

-HUNTER'S HORN-:

~Milly and Sue Annie's "white oak remedy":
Find a straight, strong oak, have child stand on south side of tree; scratch a line above his head (Arnow 29). Fit a bit into a brace and bore a hole in the middle of the scratched line; take lock of child's hair and put it into the hole; drive a nail into the hole with a stone (Arnow 29). This helps to cure "tizic." Milly says to her son Deb, "fer soon as that little tree grows and lifts that lock a your hair higher than you are, that ole tizic'ull leave you sure as shooten" (Arnow 29).

-IN THE TENNESSEE MOUNTAINS-

~"Thar's a harnt that walks Chilhowee every night o' the worl'. I know them ez hav seen him" (294).

-ORAL HISTORY-

Jink Cantrell on hog killing: "Old ghost moon nearly gone, and nearly full . . .You don't never want to kill a hog on the new of the moon . . .or you wouldn't make no lard" (Smith 190).

~ORAL HISTORY is the story of how Hoot Owl Holler is haunted, but "people don't know everything" (Smith 289).

-SHE WALKS THESE HILLS-

~Nora, Jeremy, and Sabrina all see the ghost of Katie Wyler.

~Nora Bonsteel knows "the old ways to attending to a death": "You didn't eat honey on the day of a funeral . . . She stopped all the clocks in the cottage, and opened all the doors and windows . . .She doubted if they would notice the tin cup of salt she set on the window-sill, and they might think that Geneva's silk scarf had fallen across her bedroom mirror by happenstance" (McCrumb 146). "She would tell the bees that Geneva had gone, and that it was a glad time because she had gone somewhere else, and then the bees would stay . . . Nora tied the wisp of black ribbon to the nail on the lid of the white bee box . . ." (148).

-STORMING HEAVEN-

~CJ Marcum on pre-natal care: "They is many a way to mark a baby while it is still yet in the womb. A fright to its mother will render it nervous and fretful after it is birthed. If a copperhead strikes, a fiery red snake will be stamped on the baby's face or back. And a portentous event will violate a woman's entrails, grab a youngen by the ankle and wrench a life out of joint" (Giardina 3).

-THE TALL WOMAN-

~[Tildy's stories] "were neither ballads of love nor recollections of old pranks, but tales of ghosts and witches and all manner of unnatural occurrences. 'Eh law, who's to say whether there be ghosts or not? I can't say spirits walk this earth. But who's to prove they don't?'" (Dykeman 68).


Superstition, Ghost Stories, and Such

Appalachian novels are full of superstitious characters, tellers of ghost stories, legends, or ballads. "There is often a pragmatic aspect to the songs, jokes, proverbs, rhymes, riddles, and superstitions that make up the body of Appalachian Folklore . . . the folktale, for example, seems designated to instruct and admonish, especially the young, and to inculcate a healthy respect for mystery" (Manning 440). We find characters with this "healthy respect for mystery" in all six of our Appalachian novels. Below is a list of select quotes from each book. -HUNTER'S HORN-: ~Milly and Sue Annie's "white oak remedy": Find a straight, strong oak, have child stand on south side of tree; scratch a line above his head (Arnow 29). Fit a bit into a brace and bore a hole in the middle of the scratched line; take lock of child's hair and put it into the hole; drive a nail into the hole with a stone (Arnow 29). This helps to cure "tizic." Milly says to her son Deb, "fer soon as that little tree grows and lifts that lock a your hair higher than you are, that ole tizic'ull leave you sure as shooten" (Arnow 29). -IN THE TENNESSEE MOUNTAINS- ~"Thar's a harnt that walks Chilhowee every night o' the worl'. I know them ez hav seen him" (294). -ORAL HISTORY- Jink Cantrell on hog killing: "Old ghost moon nearly gone, and nearly full . . .You don't never want to kill a hog on the new of the moon . . .or you wouldn't make no lard" (Smith 190). ~ORAL HISTORY is the story of how Hoot Owl Holler is haunted, but "people don't know everything" (Smith 289). -SHE WALKS THESE HILLS- ~Nora, Jeremy, and Sabrina all see the ghost of Katie Wyler. ~Nora Bonsteel knows "the old ways to attending to a death": "You didn't eat honey on the day of a funeral . . . She stopped all the clocks in the cottage, and opened all the doors and windows . . .She doubted if they would notice the tin cup of salt she set on the window-sill, and they might think that Geneva's silk scarf had fallen across her bedroom mirror by happenstance" (McCrumb 146). "She would tell the bees that Geneva had gone, and that it was a glad time because she had gone somewhere else, and then the bees would stay . . . Nora tied the wisp of black ribbon to the nail on the lid of the white bee box . . ." (148). -STORMING HEAVEN- ~CJ Marcum on pre-natal care: "They is many a way to mark a baby while it is still yet in the womb. A fright to its mother will render it nervous and fretful after it is birthed. If a copperhead strikes, a fiery red snake will be stamped on the baby's face or back. And a portentous event will violate a woman's entrails, grab a youngen by the ankle and wrench a life out of joint" (Giardina 3). -THE TALL WOMAN- ~[Tildy's stories] "were neither ballads of love nor recollections of old pranks, but tales of ghosts and witches and all manner of unnatural occurrences. 'Eh law, who's to say whether there be ghosts or not? I can't say spirits walk this earth. But who's to prove they don't?'" (Dykeman 68).	Ghost Story by Kathryn Stripling Byer She stalks these mountains in high button shoes and the silk skirt she wore when she flirted with cowboys and wild Irish miners who came north to strike it rich quick in the Black Hills where winter was fiercer than even the coldest ones here in the tame Appalachians she later called home. On her deathbed she sighed for the mountains of Brasstown, Dahlonega, even the ridge of the Balsams she'd seen only once from a passing car. Thirty years she cursed the heat of south Georgia, the flies, and the infernal gossip that branded her. Unsmiling she walked the small streets. Now she stalks these mountains from Big Fork to Snowbird, her shoe buttons gleaming, her silk skirt a cloud trailing after the full moon.