The Foxfire 45th Anniversary Book

by Inc. The Foxfire Fund

  Place-Name Legends

  The names these legends refer to were not imposed by any official source. They grew, instead, out of the communities themselves and are supported by narrative accounts. The legends may vary in content, but they answer the basic question of how things came about.

  Wolffork

  Billy Joe Stiles tells us how Wolffork got its name.

  When I was younger, I was told this story, and I don’t know how reliable it is, but this is the way it was related to me. There were some wolves coming down the mountain, killing sheep and so forth, around the place at the mouth of Wolffork Valley. Several men got together, and they killed this great big wolf. Everybody wanted to see it, so they strung him up in a tree, between the forks of a tree, and people came by and looked at him and admired the big wolf and went on. As time went along and they passed this tree, they simply referred to it as the wolf fork, and then from then on the valley got its name—it was called Wolffork Valley. How reliable this is I don’t know. I’ve never seen a wolf in Wolffork Valley, but years ago there might have been.

  Tallulah Falls

  This is a story about the gorge told by the Indians and written down by Marie Mellinger.

  Every year, the Four Winds held council on Wayah Bald. At one such meeting, the North Wind and the South Wind had a quarrel. She left in a huff, heading south, and the North Wind followed her, so she took her finger and drew a crooked line across the ground. There, a great, deep, crooked chasm opened up.

  “Ha,” said the North Wind, “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and make myself a way across. Foolish woman; I’ll get you yet!” North Wind huffed and puffed and breathed on the chasm, and it filled up with ice, but before he could cross on his ice bridge, South Wind said, “Ha, foolish man, I will huff and I’ll puff and breathe my warm breath upon the ice, and it will soon disappear.”

  South Wind breathed her warm breath upon the ice, and it began to melt. Water began to form, and run down the gorge, first in a trickle, then in a mighty torrent. Looking upon this with disgust, North Wind huffed and puffed his way back to the North Land.

  As the waters rose, they formed rapids and waterfalls. The South Wind Spirit planted bushes and trees and pretty wildflowers and ferns along the sides of the rushing torrent. “This shall be called Tallulah,” she said, “a place of winds.” She set little frogs in the water to sing “tu-la-lu-yi.”

  This was long before the white man came and harnessed the waters, creating a dam and a lake, but if you come in springtime of the year, you can still see wildflowers and ferns planted by the South Wind. And if you sit on the edge of the gorge on a warm April evening, you can still hear the little frogs sing “tu-la-lu-yi.”

  Lover’s Leap

  We collected this Tallulah Falls legend from Mrs. Ollie Dyer, who used to work at the Tallulah Falls park.

  I asked the man who owns this place if the Lover’s Leap story that was on the card was true, and he says, “If it’s not true, it must have some truth in it,” because the story was told to his grandfather when he bought the land here just a few years after the Indians were driven out of here. So it’s possible. There’s a drop of about nine hundred feet from that ledge of the rock that’s known as Lover’s Leap to the riverbed, and it would’ve been quite the place to get rid of somebody because the river, then, went on through here, until Georgia Power Company bought and dammed it up. They say that Indians threw the white man off—he was one of the first men that came into, or settled, this area. He and the Indian girl [Tallulah] fell in love, and the Indians didn’t want him in the tribe, and they didn’t want her to leave, so they took him out on Lover’s Leap Point and tossed him off into the river, and she jumped after him. That’s the story.

  Clarence Bramblett tells us the version that he heard about Lover’s Leap:

  Well, one time there was this little boy and his sister, and his mama and daddy got killed in a car wreck. They wouldn’t put the kids in the same orphanage home and so they separated them, and when they were about eighteen years old, they met each other. They fell in love and about a year after they were together, they got married, and then they found out that they were brother and sister. They went to the Tallulah Falls Gorge, and they jumped off and killed themselves.

  Tiger

  Janie Taylor shares her version with us of how Tiger got its name.

  In the 1800s British soldiers went over to fight the battle in India. While they were stationed there in service and fighting this over in the foreign country of India, they heard many sounds, including the Bengal tiger. Now, this tiger has a terrible wail, and these soldiers went back to England, then they migrated to the New World. So they came through South Carolina and found our mountains here in North Georgia. No sooner had they got here, they heard this piercing, screaming cry that sounded just like the Bengal tiger back in India, and they all said that it sounded just like the tigers in old India, and so let’s just call it Tiger. Now, you and I know that it wasn’t a tiger at all because they don’t have this habitat, but instead it was a black panther, the panther that we know and fear so much. And so all the time it wasn’t a tiger at all, but it was the cry and scream of the black panther that terrified these early settlers.

  PLATE 49 Janie Taylor sharing tales with students in a Foxfire class

  Ann Carnes told us how Tiger got its name. When she was little she heard this legend from her grandfather.

  When I was little my grandpa told me how Tiger got its name. There was a Cherokee chief named Tiger, who one day in the year of 1836 went up on the mountain with his tribe to get some furs, and he was killed by a tiger, so they decided to call it Tiger.

  Screamer Mountain

  George Kell shares his version of how Screamer Mountain got its name.

  When the white people ran the Indians away from here, a woman ran across a mountain with a baby on her back, screaming. That’s how I heard Screamer Mountain got its name.

  Historical Legends

  Historical legends are important, not so much as factual historical accounts but as accounts that satisfy the human need for drama and intrigue. The following legends represent an important link between people and places in our community.

  The Hermit That Lives in Tallulah Gorge

  Mrs. Ollie Dyer tells us this legend about an old man who used to live in Tallulah Gorge.

  There was an old hermit that lived in a cave down there, but he has been gone for years. There was a man, I believe his name was Ledford, that used to live in down below what is the lodge, what was the lodge, down there below the power company village. He had been married and his wife had died, and it upset him so much he just didn’t want to be around with people. That’s why they say he went off in there, and he stayed down in there and slept in a cave that’s down in the gorge for a time. And he just didn’t want to be where people were. I’ve seen him. He used to bring old little bunches of kindling he’d cut, and bring it out and sell it and get whatever he needed, like salt and maybe a little bacon, at the store that was out there. And then World War II came, and he came out. He said that he had stayed long enough, that he’d come out and help win the war.

  PLATE 50 The Witch’s Head rock formation in Tallulah Gorge, from a postcard predating construction of the hydroelectric dam

  Doug Young tells us a legend he heard from his father about an old man who lives in Tallulah Gorge.

  This feller back in World War I, when they had the draft, didn’t want to go ’cause he was scared to go, I reckon. So he moved in the gorge in a cave where he had a bunch of old goats. They’ve still got goats down there, but you don’t ever see the old man because he stays up in the cave all of the time. He hardly ever comes out, but people said they’ve seen him once in a while, and he wears old raggedy clothes and stuff.

  And Bob Justus adds:

  Around Tallulah Falls, strange things do happen. Ronald Vandiver told me that when his great-grandfather came here, when it was still Indian territory, a hermit lived in a little shack
in the gorge. He said there was a little shack right on the edge of the gorge. And this hermit, old man, lived in it, but I can’t remember details about what happened to him. I think, if I understand right, that the tourists thought he was like some kind of a troll. I guess he might have had a white beard or ragged clothes or whatever. Evidently, he was a real character!

  Man Buried in Foundation

  This legend was collected from Kirk Patterson, who heard it from his grandfather many times.

  My grandfather told me that he used to work on the Fontana Dam. He said that when he was working overtime there, it was a long time ago; I don’t know exactly what time of year it was. He said that they were working on pouring parts of the dam and that there was this man working over there with them, and he fell off some way into the dam, and they just buried him alive.

  Helen Craig tells the folklore class about something that happened when her father was helping pour the foundation for Rabun County Hospital.

  When I was little, my dad was telling me about when he was working at Rabun County Hospital, when it was first started. He helped lay the foundation. There was an old man there, and he had a heart attack or something, and they couldn’t get to the ambulances, and he was already dead, so they just buried him in the foundation.

  Billy Joe Stiles gives us some factual information about people falling into concrete dams.

  There’s a lot of controversy about people falling into dams, and so forth, and being buried alive. My dad did this kind of work most of his life, or a good portion of it, so I asked him about it. I had heard the same story when I was young. There’s no report to it; he said he’d never heard of such a thing, but it still makes a good story.

  The Bottomless Hole: Bull Sluice

  Lynn Phillips told a story about a “bottomless” hole. Carroll Lee told her this story about his grandfather Leander Ramey.

  They say that down there on the Chattooga River at Bull Sluice, there’s a big rock, and at the bottom of that rock, where the falls are, it has no bottom. One time this man went down there and picked up about a seventy-five-pound rock and jumped in and went down a long way and never hit the bottom, so he finally had to let go of the rock and come back up.

  Green (or Frog) Pond

  Billy Joe Stiles tells us a legend about Green Pond. He says he’s heard there is a bulldozer in there.

  Up my way there’s a rather interesting little place called Green Pond, and in the bottom of Green Pond, there’s supposed to be a bulldozer and several things like that. Green Pond was made right after the turn of the century, in early 1905 or something like that. At that time they didn’t even have a bulldozer. What happened was, they were blasting for rock. They’d get it out to put on the highway. Water seeped in and got on some old tools. The only bulldozer in those days was mules. To my knowledge, there’s no mules left in the bottom of Green Pond.

  George Bowen tells us the legend that he has heard from a lot of people about the Frog Pond in Rabun Gap. This is the same pond that Mr. Stiles refers to as Green Pond.

  Well, I just heard that there’s a pond up there at Rabun Gap where there used to be a rock crusher. When they were paving a new road through there, and it’s just real deep there and rain had filled it all up, they say there’s two or three cranes in the bottom of it; but, really, nobody knows just how deep it is and it’s on the side of the road going up on Highway 441. That’s about all I know about it.

  “These old mountains have lots of magic.”

  ~Fairy tales and folklore from Clyde Hollifield~

  Sometimes people ask Foxfire students how we came up with the name for our magazines and books. Mr. Clyde Hollifield talked to us about the origin of the name because he was intrigued with the vegetation—foxfire or fairy fire or will-o’-the-wisp—and shared his research with us. He told us what he’d heard about the little people and how it ties in with the foxfire.

  —Kyle Conway

  I’ve been pretty curious about foxfire the last four or five years. In Scotland and Ireland, foxfire was called fairy fire for obvious reasons. I don’t know where the term “foxfire” comes from, but I have a feeling that it’s an anglicized word. In Irish fairy tales and folklore, it’s usually called fairy fire or will-o’-the-wisp. Maybe they’re talking about swamp gas, foxfire, or who knows what, but they call both by the same common name, will-o’-the-wisp or Jack of the little fire. Like a lot of Irish folklore, most of the stories I’ve seen didn’t deal with foxfire directly, but it was just part of the story. Irish fairy tales are kind of gruesome, a little bit bizarre, and the fairies aren’t to be trusted. The general story goes that somebody is going across the moors at night and sees foxfire and thinks it’s a cabin. They go toward it and end up falling in the lake and drowning or getting led off into the moors by this foxfire, fairy fire, will-o’-the-wisp, or whatever. So they didn’t think of it as a particularly good thing.

  PLATE 51 Time exposure of foxfire glowing on decayed wood

  The stories I’ve heard locally around here are mostly about somebody that had seen foxfire on a hunting trip. “We got up there in the woods, and it was just a-glowing all the way to the top of the mountain,” that kind of thing. I’ll give you my own personal ideas about the little people that lived on top of the Smokies. I don’t know anyone else particularly that has the same feelings I have, but I know some Indian people that talk about the little people. This one Indian fellow I know talks about four different kinds of little people. All of them are white. Some little people lived on top of the mountains; some little people lived in broom sage, some in laurel thickets, and some just lived in deep woods. Fairy fire or foxfire may be their fire. It’s sort of underground, the opposite of our fire. Their fire is cold and blue; ours is hot and red. Their fire is wet, yet at the same time it’s burning, oxidizing wood, and giving off light. Their fire is at the other end of the spectrum, sort of opposite of our world. I think the literal translation of the Cherokee term was something like “cold fire” or “fire that’s cold.”

  PLATE 52 Clyde digging at the roots of a rotten stump to find foxfire

  All the phosphorescent lights, the Brown Mountain lights, and all the others have some Indian legends about their association with spirits and stuff. I think that’s one of the real magical qualities of these mountains. It’s just the fact that on summer nights, they are glowing out there all over the mountainside—lightning bugs, glowworms, mushrooms, foxfire, and a few Brown Mountain lights drifting through. So who’s to say what’s an elf or a fairy if you see a light in the woods at night? To me, it has that elfin quality—that cool blue-green lunar sort of elfin color. Most people, especially kids, seem really fascinated by it. When they see a chunk of foxfire, they take to it instantly and want to handle it or break it up.

  Foxfire is a real curious thing, which to me hints to the elfin world, but if foxfire is an elfin thing and if you mess with it, you’re very apt to come to the attention of the little people. You’ll be noticed if you play with something that’s in their element. Foxfire is just barely in our physical world. It’s more in their element. Not only is foxfire one of the real mysteries and magic of these mountains, but also things like the Brown Mountain lights, things that nobody quite understands. I just wonder sometimes if these natural lights aren’t somehow connected to a part of a larger phenomenon. These old mountains have lots of magic, and the glowing things are just some of it.

  “I wasn’t hallucinating.”

  Greg Stancil’s true encounter with the devil

  Have you ever ridiculed tales of superstitions that surround some places? So did Greg Stancil as a young man out drinking and partying with his buddies. This is the story of his conversion.

  Before I was saved, we were over off Highway 20 on Sawnee Mountain. Actually, I was told later that there was an old Indian reservation–type deal on the grounds up there, and there were a lot of evil spirits up there. But before my encounter, I thought, “Yeah, right, whatever.” Anyway, we were all partying a
gain, and we all were loaded up and went up there on the top of the mountain, and we were sitting there, and we were all scattered out somewhat. It was summertime, and it was hot, still weather, not even a breeze.

  The next thing I know, the wind started picking up, and we looked at each other and we thought, “This is weird, ain’t it?” Then we started hearing, like, a little jingle sound. So we just sit there with our beer and everything and just went on listening to AC/DC, and all that. The next thing we know, we started hearing from the very back this roar, like all these voices of all kinds: men, women, and whatever voices you could put with it, all kinds and they were roaring, screaming, growling, and snarling. It was like something bad, and these chains started rattling and shaking. The wind picked up, and the sound started from the back and was coming toward us. At first I thought I was the only one hearing this, but the other guys that was with me actually heard it, too. One boy actually busted the beer bottle in his hand; that’s how bad it was. We took off running and jumped in the truck and took off down the hill. When that happened, it let me know that the devil was real. It was something letting me know that that was Satan. I think that was God’s way of giving me an awakening.