Haunted Holidays

by Roberta Simpson Brown

  As July approached, Larry and his cousin Earl sat in the backyard at night, trying to figure out how to earn enough money to buy the fireworks. They considered trying to get work helping on neighboring farms, but the crops were already planted and it was not yet time for harvest. Larry thought about sneaking out some of his uncle’s watermelons and selling them, but there was no market for them because all the other farmers had planted watermelons, too.

  While they discussed their plan for the fireworks, they enjoyed the warm summer breeze and the sight of the moon shining on the fields, the outbuildings, and the small sinkhole at the edge of the field where the backyard ended. Larry knew nothing about sinkholes, except that his aunt sometimes threw scraps and chicken bones in this one out back. Earl told him they must never play there because the sinkhole swallowed things up, but Larry thought little about it since it didn’t have much appeal as a play area anyway.

  The Fourth of July was getting closer and Larry still had no money for fireworks, so he was starting to feel a little desperate. Every day as he walked past the bedroom, he would notice a silver dollar and a few pennies in an old jar on the dresser by the door. Larry figured that the silver dollar, added to what he had, would give him sufficient funds to buy enough fireworks for a spectacular display. Nobody would miss it, he figured, and he could earn money in the city and send it back to his uncle at the end of the summer. So one day, when nobody was looking, Larry took the silver dollar out of the jar and slipped it in his pocket.

  Larry couldn’t wait to tell Earl that they could now proceed with their plans. They could walk to town in the morning and get the fireworks. After supper, he motioned for his cousin to follow him outside. He didn’t stop near the house, but led Earl to the back of the yard and stopped beside the sinkhole.

  “I’ve got the money,” Larry whispered, even though there were just the two of them around to listen. “Look!”

  He held the silver dollar in his hand in the moonlight. Earl recognized it immediately as one belonging to his father. It was a special keepsake that nobody was allowed to touch.

  “Where did you get that silver dollar?” Earl asked.

  “From the jar on the dresser in your dad’s bedroom,” Larry answered. “He’ll never miss it. Besides, I am going to send him a dollar when I get back home.”

  “No, you don’t understand!” Earl told him. “That’s a special dollar. My grandpa gave Dad that silver dollar before he died. Dad keeps it for good luck. He wouldn’t want to part with it. You’ve got to put it back!”

  “Put what back?” asked a voice behind them. It was his aunt, coming to throw some table scraps into the sinkhole.

  Startled, the two boys whirled around. The silver dollar flew from Larry’s hand and landed in the sinkhole behind the scraps. Larry started to run into the sinkhole to look for it, but Earl stopped him. “What’s going on?” Earl’s mother asked the two boys. “What did you throw in that sinkhole just now?”

  “It was an accident,” said Larry. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “It was Dad’s silver dollar,” Earl explained to his mother. He told her what had happened and that Larry was going to put it back. Earl’s mother shook her head, very disappointed in the boys.

  “It’s too dark and dangerous to look in that sinkhole at night,” she said, “but come on back to the house and tell your father.”

  That was what the two boys hated most to do, but they had no choice.

  Larry’s uncle was upset by what Larry had done, but after taking the lantern and going to the sinkhole to look, he agreed that it was not the time to look tonight. They would look for it in the morning. They went to bed, but Larry heard a thunderstorm during the night, and he feared it would not make the search any easier. He was right. The next morning, rainwater stood in the sinkhole.

  Larry stood with his uncle and cousin by the sinkhole in the morning light. They could see no sign of the silver dollar.

  “We’ll have to wait until the water runs out and then look some more,” said Larry’s uncle.

  Overcome by guilt, Larry ran down into the sinkhole toward the place he’d seen the scraps fall the night before.

  “Come back!” yelled his uncle, but his order came too late. The sinkhole opened up like a big mouth in the earth and swallowed Larry down to his waist.

  Earl ran to the shed where they kept some heavy rope, and together he and his dad pulled Larry out. Larry was scared and shivering, but unhurt. He told his uncle again and again that he was sorry; but even though his uncle forgave him, he worried about his lucky silver dollar the rest of the summer and often stood by the edges of the sinkhole to see if the dollar had surfaced. There was never a sign of it. The boys forgot all about the fireworks display that July.

  When Larry left for home at the end of August, he said to his uncle, “I’ll come back next summer and find that dollar for you.”

  The return visit was not to be, however. Larry’s grades slipped during that school year, and his mother made him stay in the city and attend summer school. The family missed him on the farm, but they figured there would always be the next summer.

  The family felt bad that Larry couldn’t come this year, though, because the town council had decided for the first time to have a Fourth of July fireworks display near the little one-room school over on the main highway. The school was often used for community events.

  Earl was excited because he would be able to see the fireworks from his backyard. The family moved their chairs outside when the fireworks started and watched the wonderful lights and patterns with wonder. They all agreed that Larry would have enjoyed watching them, too.

  Suddenly a chilly wind blew on this hot summer night. Before their eyes, a shimmering light floated over the sinkhole. The fireworks wouldn’t shoot this far from the school, but something was there for sure! For a moment, it looked like the form of a boy in the light, and then it vanished.

  Amazing, they all thought, just staring at the sinkhole.

  Together they moved to the edge of the sinkhole. Something shining in the moonlight caught their attention. Larry’s uncle reached down and picked up the object. It was the silver dollar his father had given him. Larry was going to be so happy that it had turned up!

  As they crossed the yard, they saw car lights coming.

  “Now, who could that be at this time of night?” Earl’s dad asked.

  They walked toward the road and saw that it was the sheriff’s car. The sight of it made them feel uneasy.

  The sheriff parked by the road and walked up to them.

  “Evening, folks,” the sheriff said.

  “Evening,” they answered.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news, folks,” he told them. “Since you don’t have a phone, I got the call at my office. I didn’t want to wait to morning to let you know. It seems that your nephew Larry was riding his bicycle home from school this afternoon and a drunk driver hit him. He died in the hospital just a little while ago.”

  “Oh, no!” said Earl. “He was coming back next summer! He can’t be dead! He just can’t be!”

  The family was numb with shock. How could that boy, so full of life and promise, be gone? Now he would never be able to come back and keep the promise that meant so much to him.

  Or had he kept it after all? They thought of the shimmering light they’d just seen at the sinkhole. Had it been a trick of moonlight? Or was the shimmering light the ghost of Larry, coming back to shine on the lost coin?

  Each summer after that, the family watched the local fireworks from their backyard and they always thought of Larry. Every one of them believed sincerely that Larry had come back that night and kept his promise. They hoped that wherever he was, he was enjoying the fireworks, too.

  Blue Light Special—in the Graveyard

  and the Sky

  Lonnie recalls another Fourth of July many years ago with his own cousins, when they also saw a strange light.

  Back in the 1970s, my cousins were vis
iting from Ohio. One of my friends had joined us, and we were all sitting in the yard enjoying the July breeze. It was July 4, and we had already celebrated with fireworks and watermelon.

  “Mrs. Brown,” my friend asked my mother, “did you ever see a blue light in the graveyard?”

  We could see the graveyard down the road from our house, and we all automatically turned and looked that way. At that very second, a blue light shot up from the graveyard into the air. We were all totally amazed at what we felt certain was just a strange coincidence.

  “Well, I never saw one until now,” said my mother. “Wonder what it is.”

  “I heard that it is an earthbound spirit looking for someone to take its place so it can go to heaven,” my friend said.

  “I never heard that,” my mom told him. “But I don’t have any other explanation,” she admitted.

  “Let’s go down to the graveyard and see if we can find anything,” suggested one of my cousins. “It might have been a firecracker.”

  “It didn’t look like a firecracker to me,” said my friend. “I think we should go and take a look.”

  All of us boys walked down to the graveyard and looked around with our flashlights. Nothing was out of place. We couldn’t be sure where the light had been when we first saw it, but we headed to the back of the graveyard.

  Then, suddenly, the blue light came back and danced on a grave in the back. That stopped us in our tracks.

  “Come on,” said my friend. “Let’s get a closer look.”

  It took all of our courage, but we walked slowly toward the grave. When we got closer, we saw that the light wasn’t on a grave at all, but on an empty plot next to it. The plot already had a tombstone, though; old man Reese had bought it for himself and had his name put on it.

  As we reached the plot, the light lingered for just a moment before it vanished. In that time, we could tell that it wasn’t a beam being projected from anything. It was a light unto itself, independent of any outside source. We had an eerie feeling, so we headed back home as fast as we could walk, trying not to look as frightened as we were.

  The next morning, a neighbor came to tell us that old Mr. Reese had died last night on July 4, the night we saw the light. We thought all day about how weird was our experience of the night before.

  That night, the same group was gathered in our yard. The sky was clear, and we could see the stars twinkling far, far away. We sat for a while, watching fireflies and listening to the pleasant night sounds. In the distance, a neighbor’s dog barked now and then.

  Suddenly, the fireflies disappeared and all the night sounds stopped. To any country person, that silence meant danger.

  We looked around and up and saw a blue light streak from the graveyard into the sky.

  “What’s that?” I asked my father.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  We sat, watching silently. The blue light seemed to be putting on a special show just for us.

  It was obviously not an airplane. It could not have been searchlights or landing lights from an airport, because the nearest airports were in Lexington and Louisville. Its movements were too erratic for a plane, anyway.

  It did not have a tail like a comet, nor did it fall like a meteor. Besides, it had gone up instead of down.

  It stood still in the sky for a few seconds, and then it zigzagged back and forth and even moved in circles. It would go almost out of sight and then zoom toward earth in a flash. It seemed to be doing some kind of joyous dance in the sky.

  The strange light continued this routine for about five minutes while we sat, transfixed. Then, finally, it swooped toward us once more, and then flew away toward the stars. We waited and watched for it to return, but this time it didn’t come back. We had absolutely no idea of what we had been seeing.

  “What did you say the blue light was supposed to be?” I asked my friend.

  “It’s supposed to be an earthbound spirit looking for someone to take its place so it can go to heaven,” he explained again.

  “Do you think it was an earthbound spirit that we just saw released?” asked my cousin. “Could Mr. Reese’s death have released it?”

  We were all wondering the same thing, but we didn’t want to be the first to say it out loud. I was grateful to my cousin for speaking up.

  We watched the graveyard every night when we sat out that summer, but we never saw a blue light again. None of us ever figured out what it really was. For us, that night of the blue light was very special.

  Lake Stories

  We grew up near Lake Cumberland, but it was not a major resort area then. It was just a quiet place along the banks of the Cumberland River where Lonnie and his father would fish.

  Small family farms, which had been handed down from one generation to another, dotted the land along the shoreline. Most of the farmers had never lived anywhere else. They were not happy with the creation of the lake, but progress prevailed. In the end, they were relocated from their homes, and the farmland, homes, even whole towns and communities (such as Rowena, Horseshoe Bottom, Indian Creek, and others) were submerged in the lake. Eventually the pain the residents felt at losing what had been so important in their lives was mostly forgotten.

  In addition to the submerging of the land, 123 cemeteries were relocated in the creation of Lake Cumberland. We recently visited one of the cemeteries where the dead were relocated. It is surrounded by woods, and the roads leading to it are narrow and tree lined. A hundred-year-old cedar tree stands in the middle of the graveyard. There is an eerie stillness about the site.

  Were the dead disturbed by the move? Was the unhappiness of the displaced persons a negative force that remained in the lake?

  Both of our fathers helped build Wolf Creek Dam, which was completed in 1952. They both expressed their concern many times about the future safety of the dam. It was built on limestone and a boiling spring, which made our fathers worry that there would be leakage eventually.

  Sure enough, leakage started in 2007, and repairs on the dam were completed in 2013. During the period when the water level was lowered for safety reasons, local businesses and tourism suffered a big financial loss.

  After Wolf Creek Dam was completed in 1952, the whole area changed. Now when we go back, we feel like we are in a different place from where we grew up. Recreation around Lake Cumberland is a big business now. There are boats of all sizes to rent, plenty of fish to catch, new places to stay and to eat, trails to hike, beaches to sun on, and many kinds of businesses where tourists may shop. The area is full of fun and entertainment.

  We hear there are many strange things in Lake Cumberland. There are stories about catfish in the lake that are big enough to swallow a man!

  A little girl once drowned accidentally in the lake. Two divers were brought in to find her. They surfaced saying there were so many dangerous things down in the lake that swimmers need to watch out.

  The lake has its share of ghost stories, too.

  Lady in the Lake

  A legend that has persisted tells the sad story of a young girl who was very much in love. Unfortunately, the young man she loved did not love her. He led her on for a while, letting her believe that they would marry.

  Finally, while they were both attending a Fourth of July picnic, she pressured her beloved to name a date. Fed up with her persistence, the young man told her that it was over. He said he did not love her at all; he had only been using her.

  When the young woman realized that it was hopeless, she climbed to the top of one of the high cliffs along the shoreline and threw herself into the lake.

  Since her drowning, it is said that if you swim in the lake near that cliff, she will swim to you and pull you under the water.

  Maybe she is hoping that the man who broke her heart will come swimming by one day and she can have her revenge.

  Summer Playmate

  When we are telling stories or doing workshops, children sometimes ask if
ghosts can be dangerous. Their questions remind us of a story that happened to a family we met on a Fourth of July picnic on Lake Cumberland.

  Friends of ours had rented a cabin on the lake for an extended vacation. They invited us to spend the Fourth of July weekend with them. It was an offer too good to refuse.

  The cabin’s yard went up to a narrow beach beside the water. It was relaxing to sit on the cabin porch and look out over the lake, or to stroll along the beach and wade at the water’s edge. We never went out more than a few steps. Signs warned of a drop-off near the shore where the water was deep for swimming.

  Neither of us had any desire to swim in Lake Cumberland. We knew that when Wolf Creek Dam was built and the lake covered farms, houses, and landscapes, all kinds of things were left on the bottom. We had heard tales of huge fish, tangled barbed wire, and other spooky things that had at some point been harmful to swimmers. We were happy to stay safely on land. As we learned that weekend, that was a good decision.

  A family named Jackson had rented the cabin next door, and they came over to visit late in the afternoon. Their little seven-year-old daughter, Tiffany, asked if she could walk on the beach.

  Both parents said no in unison immediately.

  “We had a terrifying experience here last summer,” Mrs. Jackson explained. “We were staying in a different cabin than we have this year. It was about four cabins up the beach. Tiffany was allowed to play in the yard because it was fenced. We kept the gate locked so she would not be able to wander off.

  “Tiffany began to come in each afternoon about sunset and tell us that there was a little girl alone in a boat on the lake.

  “We couldn’t imagine that anyone would allow a child to go out in a boat alone. When we would follow her out to see, the boat and the child were gone.