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Halloween and ghost stories go together

by Cindy Cassady

When my uncle, the late Carl Dowell, was about 10-11 years old, he was dared by a cousin, Hazel Lee Jeffries, to go down to the family cemetery at night. The Nichols cemetery has four generations buried there and was a scary place, especially at night. As a child I was scared of this cemetery, not because it was a cemetery but the fact that it was heavily wooded and shadowed.


Now it has been cleaned out and it much brighter, but I still wouldn't want to there at night. There are some really old and weathered tombstones there, the oldest graves being those of my great-great-great grandparents, Amanda C. (Dowell) and William Carter Hubbard. The tallest tombstones belong to my great-grandparents, Martha Frances (Hubbard) and Thomas Coke Nichols. These stones are at least 5-1/2 feet in height. Those tall stones provide a perfect place to hide.

Uncle Carl gathered up all his courage, lit a lantern and set off down the road to the cemetery. Unbeknown to him, Hazel Lee had slipped out the back door and using a shortcut, got to the cemetery first. He also brought with him a white sheet and he was waiting for Uncle Carl to appear. When Uncle Carl got there, Hazel Lee with the sheet covering him, stepped out from behind a tombstone giving Uncle Carl the fright of his young life.

"Feet don't fail me now," was what Uncle Carl said as he ran as fast as he could from the cemetery, leaving his lit lantern in the middle of the road. As fast as he was, he wasn't fast enough to beat Hazel Lee using the short-cut back to the house. Uncle Carl nearly knocked his grandmother, Martha Frances Nichols (who was standing on the other side of the door), down. "Don't you tell me there's no such things as ghosts. I saw one," was what he told her and his mother, Carrie Nichols Dowell. During this time, Hazel Lee was upstairs in bed pretending to be asleep, but giggling at Carl's reaction to his "ghost."

Ova Lee and Ralph Estes used to be our neighbors and Ova Lee was a master story teller. She could tell you anything and never blink an eye. You didn't know whether or not to believe her, but she always told things so sincerely that you just couldn't doubt that she was telling you the truth. She had me fooled many times, she was that good. Ova Lee was good at telling ghost stories, scarry enough to have goose bumps popping out on you as she was telling a story. She would tell a neighbor, Jonathan Jessee (now 25, married and the father of two), ghost stories. Jonathan would be so scared from her stories that Ralph would have to walk him all the way back to his house. They were great neighbors.

Storytelling is a wonderful thing, especially if it is passed on to a new generation. Family stories should be shared and passed on for all the generations coming up. I had always heard the story of the mysterious lights behind the old Mud Slash school that my uncle, Maxie Martin, and a friend had experienced in the 1940s. When Dr. William Lynwood Montell was collecting stories for his book, GHOSTS ACROSS KENTUCKY, I submitted the story "Mysterious Lights," and he published it in his book. It became especially precious after Uncle Maxie died.



This story was posted on 2004-10-29 19:20:23
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