In the Mountains: Ghost stories and folktales in the North Carolina High Country

There is a long history of storytelling in the Southern Appalachian region of Western North Carolina. Tales have been passed down, edited, warped, and updated over generations to provide explanations for unknown phenomena, to better understand the world, and sometimes even just for the enjoyment (or terror) of sharing the tale with others.

One spooky subset of traditional folktales is the ghost story, which while aiming to entertain and scare the listener, also had a wealth of cultural significance.

According to NCPedia.org, “isolation and lack of formal education in rural communities led to a reliance on natural signs found in the moon, crops, and livestock to explain everyday events such as births, deaths, and marriages. Folktales capture the spiritual omens, rural traditions, and livelihood of a specific region and may act as historical reference for future generations.”

Folktales not only give explanation for otherwise inexplicable events, but they also act as historical documentation of the experiences and stories of everyday people, and those whose history has been otherwise erased or overwritten. Many of the folktales which have been passed down for generations in Western North Carolina come from the Cherokee and African American populations in the region.

“Storytelling is a way to not only make sense of the world around us, but to give a voice to ourselves when we often feel voiceless,” Assistant Professor of English Matthew Wimberley said. “These stories are also used to critique powerful institutions. What is really scary tends not to be the wild or a ghost, it tends to be some oppressive system you’re living under that you have to fight back against, that you feel like you have no control over. In some ways ghost stories give us a little control, or at least lets us speak to those power structures indirectly.”

While these tales have many purposes and hold great historical context, part of the reason they continue to be told to this day is because they are simply entertaining. Ghost stories are particularly interesting as the weather cools and the leaves begin to change, and the North Carolina High Country is rife with spooky folk tales to get you in the spirit.

With buildings that have been in continuous use for over a century, it’s no surprise that Lees-McRae has its share of ghost stories. The most well-known specter said to haunt the college is the ghost of Emily Draughn. Emily was a young girl who died of tuberculosis in Tate Hall when it was still Grace Memorial Hospital, and some say that her spirit has not left since.

Her ghost is often spotted in Tate Hall, and sightings and strange experiences have also been reported in Tennessee and Virginia Halls, but Emily’s full-time residence is known to anyone familiar with her story as the Shelton Learning Commons.

In his book “Haunted Halls of Ivy: Ghosts of Southern Colleges and Universities,” North Carolina author Daniel W. Barefoot shares some of the sightings and experiences Lees-McRae students, faculty, and staff have had with Emily over the years. While these experiences range from sightings of strange orbs of light to a fully formed woman in old clothing, most who are acquainted with Emily describe her ghostly antics as friendly and mischievous rather than vengeful or ominous.

Allison Norris lived and worked in Tate Hall with her husband Craig, both of whom had odd experiences in the building that they believe to be the work of Emily.

“Craig became concerned one evening while chatting with a security officer outside Tate when lights in the vacant building suddenly began to shift, as if room and closet doors were being opened and closed. When the two men rushed inside, they heard what seemed to be the entire Lees-McRae football team charging up and down the second-floor corridor,” Barefoot writes. “When the two men scurried up to that floor the loud sounds seemed to rise to the third floor. A thorough search revealed no human presence in the building.”

Despite the countless tales of supernatural experiences at Lees-McRae throughout the years, many people remain skeptical about Emily’s place on campus. A grave marker in the Banner Elk United Methodist Church cemetery marks her final resting place however, declaring that she is “not dead but sleeping.”

Right down the road from the Lees-McRae campus stands Grandfather Mountain, an incredibly ancient natural resource that reaches a peak of nearly 6,000 feet and is known as a hub of ecological and biological diversity. However, according to some, this popular hiking destination may be home to more than just interesting plants and animals.

The ghost of a lost hiker, typically described as an elderly bearded man with a grizzled appearance from his decades wandering the mountain trails, has been spotted by tourists over the years. The haunted hiker does not speak to or acknowledge passersby, but simply moves ahead of other hikers before inexplicably vanishing.

“No one knows who this mysterious figure is. Some have suggested that he was a hiker who became lost in the thick woods around the mountain and fell or was injured and was unable to make his way back out,” NorthCarolinaGhosts.com writes of this mysterious man. “Others have said he's just the spirit of a man who loved the mountain so much that he chose to stay there after he died.”

“Sop Doll” is a retelling of an old Appalachian story that is part of a group of folktales called “The Jack Tales.” First officially documented in 1927 by folklorist Isobel Gordon Carter, “The Jack Tales” ─including “Jack and the Beanstalk” ─have been passed down through generations of Appalachians.

While many of these stories have been traced back to storyteller and musician Council Harmon of Watauga County, it is believed that these tales date back even further. Many of these stories have been kept alive today by Harmon’s great-grandson Orville Hicks, who grew up on Beech Mountain and has become a renowned storyteller in his own right.

While many Jack Tales seek to share a lesson, moral, or simply entertain, “Sop Doll” also seeks to frighten the listener. In this tale Jack is looking for work when he crosses paths with a miller at an old mill who offers him room and board in exchange for tending and grinding the corn. He warns Jack that the old mill is haunted, and that none of his previous workers have lived past their first night’s stay there. With an empty belly and emptier pockets Jack declares that he isn’t afraid of haunts and takes the miller up on his offer.

The cemetery at St. John’s Church in Valle Crucis (“vale of the cross” in Latin)─a small mountain town just down the road from Lees-McRae that sits in a valley at the convergence of three streams─is said to be the site of an otherworldly creature.

Here lurks a massive black dog, supernaturally vicious with glowing red eyes. While the original story is much older, it was re-popularized in the late 1980s after two Appalachian State University students reported a run-in with the creature that has come to be known as the “demon dog” late one night.

The pair was driving down the road past the old church when the creature leapt in front of their car, causing the driver to swerve out of the way to avoid a collision. When they pulled over to collect themselves, they noticed a pair of glowing red eyes in the rearview mirror.

As they pulled away the creature began to chase them, reportedly keeping pace with their car even as they accelerated to 60 miles per hour. They were unable to lose the creature until they finally crossed the bridge above the converging rivers, which form the shape of a holy cross.

One of the many storytelling conventions of traditional folktales is the inclusion of animal characters who possess human-like abilities and qualities. According to NCPedia.org, “North Carolina’s animal tales are rooted in African American, Cherokee, and Appalachian Mountain traditions. Animal tales originating in slave communities were often stories of protest challenging the social order. In the telling of animal tales, many different species come to have specific connotations, or in the annals of folklore, represent specific meanings, omens, or superstitions.”

Cats are creatures that show up frequently in these stories, including this tale, aptly named “The Cat,” which originated in African American communities in the Appalachian Mountains.

In this story, a man wanders along the road, ambling from town to town until one night when he finds himself deep in the hills far away from civilization of any kind. Lonely and searching for a place to rest his head for the night, the man settles in a tumble-down shack with nothing more inside than some sticks and a wooden box full of animal bones.

Soon enough the man hears a scratching from the wooden box, and the animal bones begin to assemble themselves into the shape of a cat. The skeleton cat walks over to the startled man, and with a strange green light glowing from its empty eye sockets says, “Well, I reckon there’s nobody here but you and me.” The man runs off into the night leaving his shoes behind.

While the story is creepy, it also incorporates humor, a common theme in many African American folktales. According to NorthCarolinaGhosts.com, “African American folklore often treats witches and ghosts more lightly than they're treated in the stories told by the white communities in America. This is a trait shared with European Jewish folklore and the stories told by other minority groups who have found themselves under considerable social and political difficulties across the world.”

The history of ghost stories, and folktales more generally, is rich here in Southern Appalachia. There are countless stories that have been passed down from generation to generation, some circulating only within small communities, and others spreading and adapting until they become globally recognized fables. While we can never be sure where many of these tales originated, we can all do our part to keep these traditions alive.

This Halloween season the Lees-McRae English Department invites students to become a part of this history by submitting their ghoulish, spine-tingling tales of horror to the annual Ghost Story Contest.

Stories should be no longer than 500 words and must be submitted via email to Wimberley by noon on Monday, Oct. 24. Stories will be judged on originality, creativity, style, and fright factor.

Contest winners will be announced at a celebratory gathering hosted by the School of Arts and Humanities in the Whitesell Art Building at 3:30 p.m. on Friday, Oct. 28. Arts and Humanities students and contest entrants are invited to attend the event, so make sure to submit your own haunted folktale and become part of this centuries-long Appalachian tradition.