So, these family stories are all true stories, right? Well, yes and no. When I began retelling the story about my great-aunt Mary Helen’s phone call home, I told my audiences she worked in Washington, D.C., because so many men were away fighting in World War II. I had always heard that Aunt Mary Helen and Aunt Eloise wound up in Washington because of the war. Over the years, I had also heard and read about women being hired to do men’s jobs during the war, so I assumed this was why Mary Helen and her sister Eloise, both high school graduates, moved from Kentucky to Washington, and I included that information as part of the story. It set the time period and included a bit of history for my listeners.
When another cousin, Dale Hamilton, told me Mary Helen and Eloise were college graduates, I decided I needed to do some fact-checking with Aunt Mary Helen. Oh, I knew she and Eloise had gone to Mount Saint Joseph, but I thought they went there for high school, not college.4 After all, my grandfather, their older brother, had graduated from eighth grade and not attended high school, so I thought graduating from high school was the added accomplishment by the daughters of the family. Through fact-checking with my great aunt, I not only learned about their going to college, but also learned that while World War II was indeed a factor in the move to D.C., they hadn’t moved because of a need for women to fill jobs formerly held by men. They had held their jobs before the war began. When the war wound down, the jobs they held then moved to Washington, so they moved with their jobs. I was wrong on several bits of information and changed the story accordingly.
However, I did not change everything. During the fact-checking Aunt Mary Helen also told me she is sure she never said, “sells liquor and beer.” Instead she told her mother he owned a “liquor store,” which her mother heard as “electric store.” In fact, Mary Helen first heard the reference to an electrical engineer when she heard the story retold at the family reunion! After learning that Aunt Mary Helen’s memory of the incident differed from how it had been told at the reunion, my father told me he remembers Mama Ham5 saying that Mary Helen was marrying a man who owns an electric store, and “she even added, ‘he sells all kinds of electrical appliances.’ ”6 My father went on to say that electricity was relatively new to our rural area at that time, so the idea of anyone selling a variety of electrical appliances was quite a novelty.
Obviously, I’ve chosen to keep “he’s an electrical engineer.” I think I would need to incorporate lots of additional detail to explain my great-grandmother’s excitement over an electric store, even though her contemporaries shared her feelings. In addition, I also suspect most of my audience members, like me, have no detailed idea what an electrical engineer does, but we’ve heard of such a profession, and it still sounds impressive, so my great-grandmother’s excitement in the story is a feeling we understand. Even more importantly to me as a storyteller, I liked the sound of “he’s an electrical engineer” and “he sells liquor and beer” when I heard my cousin tell it that way at the family reunion, and I like the sound of it now. Even after my fact-checking, I decided to keep that phrasing. I also began to wonder if Charlie had consciously changed the story because he liked the phrasing too. A phone conversation with him revealed he was telling the story just the way he recalled his father, Lamar Hamilton, telling it.7 Ah, the wonders of oral transmission!
THIS IS THE STORY . . .
Many of us have heard stories about ourselves set in that time before the earliest memories we are certain we recall. Here is a story I heard from earliest childhood, retold as I remember my mother and father telling it:
You were born on August 3rd. When we brought you home from the hospital, it was so hot we dressed you in a diaper and an undershirt and put you in your baby bed. We had just drifted off to sleep when you began to cry. Well, you were our baby, so we tried to help you. You weren’t hungry; you didn’t need your diaper changed, but you cried. We just held you, and then you drifted back to sleep. We went back to bed and were just about asleep when you began crying again. This went on all night.
You’d cry. One of us would get up, determine you were not hungry and did not need your diaper changed. We would hold you. You would drift off to sleep. We’d put you back in your bed. We’d return to our bed. Just as we began to sleep, you’d cry again.
We eventually decided you wanted to be held because you always went back to sleep if we held you. But every time we set you down and we tried to sleep, you’d cry.
We thought: “What’s wrong with this baby? We can’t be holding this baby all the time? She’s not even a week old; how can she already be so spoiled she wants to be held all the time?” We didn’t know what was wrong, but we couldn’t imagine how we had ended up with such a spoiled baby.
This crying, holding, and no sleep for us went on for your first three nights home. Then Mama Lillian1 came to visit. We told her our problem. She asked, “How have you been dressing this baby for bed?”
And we told her, “In a diaper and an undershirt.”
“Why, this little baby’s cold,” she said. “It’s August, so it may be hot to you, but it is still colder than this baby is used to. This little girl is just cold.” She dressed you in a long flannel nightgown with flaps that pulled down over your hands. That night you slept all through the night, and you slept every night after that.
Why, you slept through the night sooner than any of our later babies. You were such a good baby.
COMMENTARY
So, what is this story about?
This is the story of how my grandmother shared her knowledge born of experience to help my parents and me. It shows how important good grandparents can be.
This is the story of how my parents, though smart people, were not smart enough to figure out that the inside of a human body is much warmer than a hot, humid, upstairs, no air-conditioning August night in Kentucky.
This is the story of why, to this very day, I am easily chilled.
This is the story that shows how fortunate I was to have parents who loved me and struggled to meet my needs even when they could not name the need they met—instead of having parents who, thinking only of themselves, could have silenced me for good.
This is the story that shows how I, as their first child, along with my grandmother, helped teach my parents how to be parents. This is a job done by every oldest child, willingly or not.
This is the story of how I learned not to bother people by asking for what I wanted so I would not be considered spoiled.
This is the story of how, even before time I can remember, I knew I must have my needs met. It tells how I succeeded even though I could not clearly communicate what my needs were.
This is the story that shows, when it truly matters, I am persistent and so are my parents. Perhaps persistence can be inherited.
This is the story with no fixed meaning. It changes and changes. Perhaps the meanings of all of our stories, those we tell and those we are told, can become this fluid when we allow ourselves to listen to them anew.
PERMISSIONS AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Adaptation of “Stormwalker,” from Roberta Simpson Brown, The Walking Trees and Other Scary Stories (Little Rock, Ark.: August House, 1991). Used by permission of Marian Reiner on behalf of the publishers.
“The Wedding Ring,” in Berniece T. Hiser, Quare Do’s in Appalachia: East Kentucky Legends and Memorats (Pikeville, Ky.: Pikeville College Press, 1978), 164–168. Heard and compiled by Berniece T. Hiser, copyright 1978 by Berniece T. Hiser. Reprinted by permission of Susan Hiser and Shirley Hiser Fugate.
“The Gingerbread Boy,” by Mary Hamilton, was first published in The August House Book of Scary Stories: Spooky Tales for Telling Out Loud, edited by Liz Parkhurst (Atlanta: August House, 2009), 22–26.
“2010 Gingerbread Boy,” by Linda Gorham, is used with her permission.
“The Blue Light,” archival text by Mrs. Dicey Hurley or Mrs. E. McClanahan. “The Bushel of Corn,” by J. B. Calton. Excerpts from an untitled text collected by Euphemia Epperson from Ted Midd
leton. All from the Leonard Roberts Collection, Southern Appalachian Archives, Berea College.
“How She Paid Her Debt,” or “Flannel Mouth,” by Nora Morgan Lewis. From the Nora Morgan Lewis Collection, Southern Appalachian Archives, Berea College.
“The Open Grave” is adapted from William Lynwood Montell, Ghosts Along the Cumberland: Deathlore in the Kentucky Foothills (Knoxville: Univ. of Tennessee Press, 1975), 187–190. It is used with permission of the publisher.
“The Farmer’s Smart Daughter” is adapted from “The Farmer’s Daughter,” in Marie Campbell, Tales from the Cloud Walking Country (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1958), 198–200. Adaptation undertaken courtesy of Indiana University Press.
“Kate Crackernuts” is reprinted from Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales, 3rd ed. (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons and David Nutt, 1898), 198–202.
“The Story of Kate Crackernuts” is reprinted from Andrew Lang, “English and Scottish Fairy Tales,” Folk-Lore 1, no. 3 (September 1890): 289–312.
“The King and His Advisor,” adapted by Mary Hamilton, with the permission of Umang Badhwar and her family. Text of May 1986 correspondence from Umang Badhwar to the author reprinted by permission of Umang Badhwar.
“Jump Rope Kingdom,” by Mary Hamilton, first published in The Scenic Route: Stories from the Heartland, ed. Ellen Munds and Beth Millett (Indianapolis: Indiana Historical Society Press, 2007), 1–3.
NOTES
Introduction
1. By “kitchen table storyteller” I’m talking about telling stories around a kitchen table or in some other informal setting. In addition, the listeners generally have not gathered for the purpose of hearing stories, but the storytelling has sprung from the ongoing conversation. The type of storytelling for which I am paid is not kitchen table storytelling, but “platform storytelling.” My storytelling has usually been arranged by a presenter (for example: a festival artistic director, a librarian, a teacher) who has hired me to tell stories at a specific place to listeners the presenter has gathered for the purpose of hearing stories. Just as kitchen table storytelling does not always happen with a teller sitting at a kitchen table, platform storytelling does not always happen with a teller standing on a platform. These terms “kitchen table storytelling” and “platform storytelling” are also used by others to talk about different types of storytelling situations with different degrees of formality; however, not all users describe the terms the same way I have.
2. National Endowment for the Arts website: “The folk and traditional arts, which include music, crafts, dance, storytelling, and others, are those that are learned as part of the cultural life of a community whose members share a common ethnic heritage, language, religion, occupation, or geographic region. These traditions are shaped by the aesthetics and values of a shared culture and are passed from generation to generation, most often within family and community through observation, conversation, and practice.” By contrast, most of the stories I tell are not stories that have been passed down in my family over the generations, nor did I grow up hearing these stories from others around me. In addition, most of my storytelling training has come from other professional storytellers through workshops they’ve offered and through their presentations at various storytelling conferences. While we may share a common occupation, professional storytellers do not traditionally work side by side, transmitting storytelling knowledge and skills as an integral part of our typical workdays.
3. The Captain Kangaroo television show ran on CBS from 1955 to 1984. The books I recall Captain Kangaroo (portrayed by Robert Keeshan) reading were all published before Captain Kangaroo began—Virginia Lee Burton’s The Little House in 1942 and her Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel in 1939; Esphyr Slobodkina’s Caps for Sale in 1938.
4. Yes, Mary June—I used both names in school. In my predominately Catholic community, many girls were named Mary after the Blessed Virgin Mary, so we all either used middle names or double names at school.
5. Many teachers today share the belief that it is important for students to learn to speak before groups and have opportunities to develop listening and audience skills; however, most teaching today is driven by assessment. By that I mean that what can be, and is, assessed becomes what is taught. It takes time to allow every child in a classroom to speak in front of peers, and assessing speaking ability does not lend itself to standardized testing. While speaking and listening skills are indeed often included in curriculums, school and individual teacher success is measured primarily through standardized assessments. Therefore, when time is short and assessment stakes are high, what is taught must match what will be assessed by state and national standardized tests.
6. Barbara Freeman and Connie Regan-Blake each began telling stories in the early 1970s. For twenty years, from 1975 to 1995, they traveled the world as The Folktellers, a storytelling duo. Since 1995 both Barbara and Connie have established solo storytelling careers. Learn more about Barbara at [email protected], Connie at www.storywindow.com. I had heard of them before the conference because they had been featured on the cover of a School Library Journal issue while I was in library school, but I had not sought out an opportunity to hear them tell prior to the conference.
7. For more information about the impact of my studies with Laura Simms, see note 4 in “Little Ripen Pear” and the commentary after “Kate Crackernuts.” Learn more about Laura Simms at www.laurasimms.com.
Stormwalker
1. When telling this story for Kentucky audiences, I usually interject a bit of directional information, “and if you wanted to go there from here, you would just. . . .” Kentucky has 120 counties, so we Kentuckians tend to talk in terms of counties, especially when talking about rural areas.
2. No, I do not have a photographic memory, but I do have my appointment calendars from previous years, where on December 19, 1990, I wrote “go to Lonnie & Roberta’s to tell ‘Stormwalker’ around 5:00 or 5:30 p.m.”
3. In 1991, August House published The Walking Trees and Other Scary Stories by Roberta Simpson Brown. Roberta titled her story “Storm Walker”—two words; however, when I heard the story, I heard the single word, “Stormwalker.” The Walking Trees was Roberta’s first book. Learn more about Roberta Simpson Brown, and about the ten books she has written, at www.robertasimpsonbrown.com.
4. Storytelling World Awards, presented yearly since 1995, are juried awards presented to Winner and Honor recipients in seven categories. Another CD of mine, Sisters All . . . and One Troll was awarded a 2007 Winner Storytelling World Award in Category 6: Storytelling Recordings. Learn more about Storytelling World Awards at www.storytellingworld.com.
5. Kentucky Crafted: The Market is produced by the Kentucky Craft Marketing Program, a division of the Kentucky Arts Council. The Market includes days for buyers from retail stores throughout the country, followed by two open to the public days. Traditional, folk, and contemporary craft exhibitors are juried in the Kentucky Craft Marketing Program. Two-dimensional artists are juried through the Kentucky Arts Council. Performing artists are selected from the juried Kentucky Arts Council’s Performing Arts on Tour Directory, and their recordings, along with books from Kentucky Arts Council Fellowship Artists and from Kentucky publishers, are also available. In addition, The Market offers specialty food products with the Kentucky Proud Program of the Kentucky Department of Agriculture. Learn more about Kentucky Crafted: The Market at www.kycraft.ky.gov.
Promises to Keep
1. In 1867, for about $120,000, William S. Culbertson built his three-story, twenty-five-room home. With its hand-painted ceilings, carved rosewood staircase, and marble fireplaces, his home reflected his affluence. After his death in 1892, the mansion and its contents were sold. A series of owners painted over the ornate ceilings and boarded up rooms. Since 1985 this annual event, rated a “Top 10 Halloween Haunted House” by USA Today in 1991, generates funds to restore the mansion to its Victorian glory. Culbertson Mansion State Historic Site is a part of the
Indiana State Museum and Historic Sites Division of the Department of Natural Resources.
2. Henson, Tragedy at Devil’s Hollow, 107–108.
3. Hiser, Quare Do’s in Appalachia, 164–168.
4. Henson, Tragedy at Devil’s Hollow, 107.
5. Ibid., 108.
6. Hiser, Quare Do’s in Appalachia, 164–168. Hiser also wrote: “My sister Grace E. Jones told me the story of ‘The Wedding Ring’ which took place in Breathitt County about 1862, the old lady was Mrs. Polly Daingey McIntosh, telling the tale in 1918, in Owsley County.”
7. Murray (n.d.) confirms what I had been casually told by the curator.
8. Johnson and Buel, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, 1:537–538, 3:29–30.
9. Report of the Adjunct General of the State of Indiana, 4:550–551, 6:302–304. This report includes the residences of soldiers and the muster dates of the specific companies.
10. Hiser used Polly Daingey (also spelled Daingy) McIntosh and John McIntosh (Quare Do’s in Appalachia, 164, 165). Henson used Josephine Tyler and George Thomas (Tragedy at Devil’s Hollow, 107).
11. Johnson and Buel, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, 1:538, 3:29.
12. Ibid., 1:458.
13. Dyer, A Compendium of the War of Rebellion, 3:1147.
The Gingerbread Boy
1. If you are thinking, chopping cotton? In Kentucky? I can tell you that surprised me too, but I do know that cotton has been grown in southwestern Kentucky, so it is possible to be sent to “chop out the cotton” in Kentucky. The mention of “chopping cotton” was in the version of the story from Billie Jean Fields (see additional information in the commentary), and I elected to keep it in my retelling.
2. This is the first of many, many references you will see to Leonard Roberts in this book. Leonard Roberts was a Kentucky scholar, teacher, folklorist, and storyteller to whom all Kentuckians interested in storytelling owe a great debt. Upon his death, his family donated his work to Berea College (in Berea, Kentucky), where today the Leonard Roberts Collection is part of the Southern Appalachian Archives, housed in the Hutchins Library. The Leonard Roberts Collection is one of the most important archives of sound recordings and manuscripts of traditional storytelling in the entire United States. For Roberts’s field recordings, I’ve provided complete call numbers. (Each begins with LR OR.) Call numbers are not assigned to individual manuscripts within the collection. To learn more about Leonard Roberts and his work, including a complete bibliography, please see the Leonard Roberts memorial issue of Appalachian Heritage 15 (spring 1987): 4–65. Carl Lindahl, a scholar and folklorist, is currently writing a book tentatively titled One Time: The Kentucky Mountain Folktale World of Leonard Roberts.
Kentucky Folktales Page 20
