Good evening. I'm Laura Clavio from the Bloomington Storytellers Guild and thanks so much for coming
out to see our performance tonight. 250 years of American folklore. It's hard to actually comprehend
that. It's like a giant tapestry made of millions of strands from all over the world that have come
together and
Choosing material from all that is a bit challenging. But tonight you're going to hear some of the favorite
stories that we've come up with from the animals of American folklore. We hope you enjoy those. Just
a couple of things to talk about before we get started. First, if you brought a device with you that
makes noise, please silence it. And some thank yous, first to the
Monroe County Public Library for their support and the use of their facilities, to the Friends of the
Library who support us, and to CATS, the Community Access Television Services that records our programs,
and if you miss part of this tonight or you have friends that want to see it, it will be available on
CATS, usually within
two to three weeks, so you can look for it there. Our tellers tonight are all ready to go, so we'll
get started, and thank you again for coming. Hi, folks. My name is Kellen Everett, and I will be telling
a story that I found in a collection of folk stories from around here.
from Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, close by. Now, my family's lived in Indiana for a couple years now. And
I got to say, it's a pretty great place to be. In fact, some people say that Indiana is God's own country.
A big part of the reason for that is because the devil keeps out of Indiana. And the reason for that
goes way back. It's an old story, back from when
Indiana was still mostly frontier country. And back then, there were a couple of lumber men,
tough as nails. John Travers and Ben Barker. When I say you guys were tough as nails, I mean it. They
would go to bed every night sleeping on grindstones for pillows. And they'd wake up every morning for
breakfast. They'd have a nice bowl of razor soup. John was about as tall as a tree. Ben was about a
big around as a barrel. And when it came to cussing and swearing,
Well, these two fellas could give a whole team of Ohio boatmen a run for their money. They could cuss
the hide off a mule. They could cuss the scales off a fish. They could cuss the bark off a tree. Awfully
handy for a pair of lumbermen. Now, all this cussing and swearing and foul language wasn't a good habit.
Wasn't a polite habit. But what could folks do? It's a free country. They could talk however they want.
But every time they open their mouths, well, the devil's always looking out for candidates for his domain
way down in the great below. So every time they open up their mouths, he just smiled and waited. So
one fine spring day in Wabash County, Ben and John got together and they bought themselves a fine plot
of timberland that they were hoping to turn into an even finer profit. They bought it and they went
straight to work cutting and chopping and sawing and they were hard at work and as they were working,
The woodchips and the sawdust was flying thick as snowflakes in a blizzard, and the nasty filthy toad
words flying out of their mouths were coming even thicker. They were working and sweating and hollering,
and on about the fifth day of them working, they were about halfway through sawing through an oak tree
that was about as thick as a bear is long. About halfway through, John said to Ben, say, we ought to
let this one fall down along the path when it goes down. And Ben said,
No, you idiot, we gotta let it fall the other way. And just like that, two of them launched into another
one of their famous rip-roaring, swearing arguments. And they were swearing and cussing, and the language
they were using was just so foul that the trees around them were shaking with indignation. Their beautiful
green leaves were turning pale and yellow and shriveling up like it was the wintertime. All the other
lumbermen around them
No saints themselves, mind you. Well, they just about had to run off with their ears scorched because
this language was so hot. The devil was not there that day to hear this argument, but he did catch a
year of it where he was all the way over in Boston on business. And as soon as he heard, he smiled and
laughed and started rubbing his hand so fast sparks flew. He knew that he was going to get these two.
And well, wouldn't you know it, he was right.
John Travers, soon after this, up and died. And when John died, the devil zipped right over,
grabbed him, pulled him straight down, down below Wabash County where he lived, to where there's a special
place reserved for Hoosiers that don't behave like they oughta. So the devil took him straight down,
but a while before John had died, after a different other one of his famous swearing quarrels with Ben,
Well, he'd figured out a mean, mean way to get back at his partner. Now, John got together with a lawyer
who was so crooked, his lawyer's grave had to be dug with a corkscrew. John and this lawyer got together,
and he worked his legal sorcery, and they had it worked out so that Ben would have to pay out a whole
barrel full of money to John's heirs when John finally kicked the bucket. When Ben found out about this, oh, boy.
Right there at John's funeral he found out and he was mad, mad, mad. He started swearing and cussing
and spitting and yelling right there at the graveside. His language was so bad that the tombstone started
to crack. He was just getting madder and madder by the second. He was screaming and hollering and using
just about every bad word that he knew and just getting madder and madder. He was about to start making
up new bad words when finally his body just couldn't handle all that anger and Ben Barker up and died.
just like John. And of course, when Ben died, well, the devil zipped right over and grabbed him, pulled
him straight down to where John was. Which means, of course, that the very first thing that Ben Barker
saw down in the great down below amidst the flames was John. Now, there's three things in this world
that you just can't make over no matter how hard you try. A stubborn mule, an old miser,
and a swearing foul-mouthed lumberman. And when these two saw each other down in the devil's domain,
well, they just lit into each other like a couple of roosters at daybreak. They were hollering and swearing
and cussing up a storm right there at each other, just getting louder and louder by the second. All
those cuss words were coming out fast as grease lightning and about twice as hot.
They were roaring about as loud as all the roaring flames all around him. And the devil was just laughing
and laughing, because he'd got exactly what he had wanted. Or so we thought. Because you see, he looked
around, and he saw that he had all his little helper devils. You know, the devils that he keeps down
there to help him torment folks. Well, they had stopped tormenting folks. They were just watching Ben
and John. They'd never heard language like this before. They were learning all kinds of new words. And
the devil?
He was getting worried. What kind of effect was this kind of language going to have on these impressionable
young devils just staring eyes like saucers? And so, well, the devil couldn't take much more of that.
So he got all the little devils together and told them to scat, get out of there. They didn't need to
torment Ben and John. They got each other, just sweared at each other for all eternity. That's enough
torment right there. And the devil, well,
being honest, he couldn't take much more of it either. His ears were starting to smoke. So he got out
of there, too. He just left the field to Ben and John to just stand and swear and cuss and argue with
each other for all eternity. Now, whether they're still there doing that to this day, I couldn't tell
you. It would explain some of the heat that we feel in the summers of Indiana. What I can tell you
is that that is why the devil knows better than to come back to Indiana. I'm Connie Chicalis, and I'm
going to... Wait. I believe I hear a message from the devil coming from Illinois. Yes, I will sing the
deaf woman's courtship. Old woman,
Old woman, are you fond of weaving? Speak a little louder, sir. My hearing is deceiving. Old woman,
old woman, are you fond of shearing? Pray speak a little louder, sir. I'm rather thick of hearing.
Old woman, old woman, would you go a-walking? Pray speak a little louder, sir. Or what's the use of talking?
Are you fond of spinning? Please speak a little louder, sir. I only see a grinning. Old woman, old woman,
are you fond of knitting? Please speak a little louder, sir. Come nearer where I'm sitting. Old woman,
old woman, might I kiss you dearly? Oh, Lord, have mercy on my soul, sir.
Introduction for an old woman. Hi, my name is Patty Callison. The story that I have to tell tonight
is a Native American story, a Cherokee story. I originally found this story in the library. And it was
sort of, it was from an oral history that a researcher had collected.
And I'm happy. It became part of my storytelling life, and I hope you enjoyed it. And if you've heard
me tell this before, it's always different. Now, you all know what a possum looks like, don't you? Of
course you do. They got in your garden, and they're rubbing around. And if you meet somebody, they might
say that it's
Oh, Possum. But did you know that at one time, the possum had a long, beautiful tail. It was just covered
in long, silky, silvery fur. And Possum was very proud of that tail, and he loved
to show it off to all the other animals. Now, he especially liked to show it off to Rabbit,
because you see, Rabbit's tail had been pulled off by Bear many years ago, and so all he had was a little
itty bitty fluff of a tail. Now, Rabbit is a trickster. He loves to play tricks
pranks, jokes. But he gets a little mean when he's kind of envious, just as he was envious of Possum's
tale. And so he had been thinking of some way that he could kind of get back and pull a prank on Possum
for being so proud of that tale. But he'd never come up with anything.
was just about this time of year. And the animals decided they would get together. Everybody would bring
some food, a kind of a picnic-type thing. And so it was decided where and when it was going to be. It
was also decided that rabbit, being the very quickest animal in the forest, should go around telling
all the other animals about where and when this
was going to take place. Now there was even going to be a dance that went along with this. And so Rabbit
went from place to place and he was just getting ready to go over to Possum's place when
So before he went over to Possum's place, he went to visit Cricket. Now, Cricket had a very interesting
occupation. With those little hind legs of his, he could trim up and style the animal's fur. A barber,
if you will. And so Rabbit went to visit Cricket
Then he went to see Possum. And he told Possum all about the potluck and the dance and all the animals
that were going to be there. And Possum said, well, if I come, I know that everyone will want to see
my long and beautiful tail. Oh, I've been thinking about that, said Rabbit.
to let you know that I am in charge of the dance, and you will be at the very front of the dance line.
Oh, good, said Possum. But you know what, said Rabbit, before, before then,
Why don't I send Cricket over, and he can style up your tail so that it's even more beautiful than it
is right now? All right, said Possum. So the day of the dance and the picnic came, and here came Cricket
over to Possum's place. And he combed all the dirt
debris out of that tail. And he washed it and dried it. And then he put a little something on it so
that that silvery fur just sparkled in the sunlight. And possum, oh, boy, look. Oh, that is magnificent.
Yeah, but you know, said Cricket, it's a while until the dance. I brought this red string with me.
I'm going to tie it around your tail if you want. And so it'll keep it from getting all dirty and messed
up. And then I'll take it off when we have the dance." All right," said Possum. And so, Possum laid
down on the ground. Hmm. He may have even gone to sleep.
that long red string and he tied it to the base of Possum's tail and then he started to wrap that red
string around Possum's tail. But what Possum didn't know was that just before he'd wrapped the string
around the tail
was taking his little hind legs and cutting the hair off of Possum's tail right next to the roots. And
then he would wrap that red string around the bear place. Wrap that red string around the
until he came to the very tip of Possum's tail and he tied a nice red bow. Well, that evening the animals
all came to the gathering spot. Oh, there was a nice fire going there and a huge table just covered
with all of the contributions that everybody had brought for the meal. And they ate.
until they couldn't eat anymore. And then they ate some more anyway. But then it was time for the dance.
So Rabbit got the dance line all lined up. And sure enough, Possum was at the very head of the dance
line. Well, the animals had brought their instruments. And they started to dance.
They started to sing. And they started to play. And Possum remembered that his tail was still wrapped
up. So he motioned to cricket. And cricket came on over and unwrapped that red string from Possum's
tail. But by that time, Possum was really into the music. And he started to sing. And he started to dance.
See my beautiful tail. Well, the other animals on there goes Possum talking about his tail. And they
all clapped. And Possum heard this and he said, oh, my tail must really look good. So he sang some more.
See how fine the color is.
could stop the the animals were were clapping and stomping and and hurrying and and positive and so
he's saying some more see how fine the fur is well when he's saying that
The animals started to laugh, and they laughed, and they laughed. Oh, Bear was over there, and he held
up his big paw. Squirrel. Squirrel was laughing so hard that he was rolling around in the dirt, holding
his stomach.
laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his cheeks. And Possum turned around and he looked at
the animals.
just like a lizard's tail. And with that, Possum lay down on the ground, and he held up his little paws
like this, and he grinned, which Possum's do to this very day whenever they are frightened or embarrassed.
And that's the story of why when you see a possum today, it is very, very bare. My name is Ken Ogas.
And I'm actually based in Indianapolis.
I love coming down to Bloomington to tell with my storyteller brothers and sisters. So here we are.
Have I ever told you the absolutely incredible story of great-grandpa Jack and his hunting trip? No?
Well, lock the doors. You're going to hear it now. You see, my great-grandpa was born 100 years before me.
He married my great grandma, and they settled down by the Wabash River, and they cleared trees. They
were going to have such a fine life together. They had plenty of corn, but not a whole lot of meat.
And after several weeks of no meat, great grandma said, Jack, you need to go hunting. But dear, I only
have the one bullet for the rifle, says,
Well, you need to figure something out. You take the bird net, you take the corn, you take the horse,
get down to the lake. We need meat. Yes, ma'am. So he loaded up the stone boat, which was used for carrying
all the stones that were taken out of the fields as they cleared them, took the stone boat, hooked it
up to old Alex the horse, and he took his bird net and corn and a sharp hatchet. And bumpity, bumpity,
bump, they went down to the lake.
And he set up the bird net, put out the corn, began chopping on a hollow log, make a bucket. You never
have enough buckets. Well, while he was doing that, he heard the sound of not just one goose,
but many geese. And he looked over at the bird net, and there must have been a dozen under that net
gobbling up that corn.
Oh my! He went running and he grabbed the net so they couldn't get away. Well he held on tight and they
stuck their wings through the net and they pulled him up over the lake until he was looking down at
water and he didn't know how to swim. Oh and well they came back around over the land and he saw a tree
with a nice big opening.
Now, one thing I'll say about great-grandpa Jack is that he had a great sense of timing, so he let go
just at the right time. He fell into that hollow tree and he went down, down, down, and instead of hitting
something hard with a bump, he hit something soft and sticky and sweet. Oh, sour wood honey, a whole
tree full of it. Well, things are finally looking my way, but how am I going to get out of this tree trunk?
had his arms squeezed together, he didn't have to wait long. Because something blocked the top of the
tree now, got dark, and they could hear a growling and a snarling and a snoozing. And that bear was
going to lower himself down into the honey and pull himself out again and lick himself off. Doesn't
get any better than that for bears.
Well, great-grandpa Jack, he waited and he waited until that wagon tail of the bear got just within
reach and he bit onto that bear tail and the bear pulled him up to the top of the tree. Now, I told
you about Jack's good timing. Well, before that bear could swat him with one of his bear paws, Jack
just gave him a little like that. And he hit the
rocks at the base of the tree and broke his neck. Safe. So Jack slowly climbed down out of that tree
with all that honey on him. And he went over to the lake and went up into his neck. And he was letting
all that honey dissolve off. And then something got under his shirt. What is that? You're not going
to believe this. He caught a trout without even trying.
and it was under his shirt and it was flapping around so hard why finally it snapped the top button
of his long underwear, which it didn't really take off that many times. Anyway, that button shot off
like a bullet, hit a duck, killed it. Well, my day is really shaping up. I've got a duck, I've got a
trout, I've got a tree full of honey, not to mention a bear.
So he came out of the lake and he took that sharp hatchet. He began to slice through that bare skin
and get them all carved up, put them on the stone boat. And then he cut a hole in that hollow honey
tree and let that honey dribble out into the bucket he had made. And he thought, oh, just wait till
great grandma sees this. Well, you know, it had gotten a little bit late.
with all this going on, all the cutting and preparing. And the wild turkeys were beginning to roost.
And he could hear them. And they were collecting onto one long branch on a tree nearby. And he got up
real quiet like, and he walks over with his rifle, with the one bullet. And he points his rifle up,
and he says, I've got to hit at least one of them. Oh, please, please. Kapow!
And that bullet shot up. Did it hit one wild turkey? No. Did it hit two? No. It hit that branch and
it split open and trapped all their feet in between the two halves. Oh my. So he got his sharp hatchet.
He climbed up that tree, cut that limb down. Kaboom. Put it in the stone boat. And he was getting all
set now to head home.
And he heard something he'd never hear again. He never thought it. Geese. All of the geese that had
flown him up into the air in the first place, they were still under that net. They were trapped in a
tall, tall tree. And he says, I'm not climbing up to get them. He took that hatchet. It was very sharp.
And he cut that tree, and it came crashing down.
Now, the local deer were very curious creatures. And the deer that he actually hit with a tree had not
seen it coming. And I told you it was incredible. Well, so he's got a deer, a bear. He's got the trout,
a duck, wild honey. Oh, she's going to be so happy. Well, he loaded everything up on that stone boat.
There was no room for him, so he had to walk up with the horse, old Alex. And as soon as they pulled
forward, just a couple of feet, there was a loud snapping sound on either side. The harness broke. Well,
he had all kinds of fresh leather to work with, so he cut strips of deer hide, thinking, that's probably
going to work. Right, right. He took those strips. He repaired the harness.
And then off they went, and it got darker, and it began to rain. Now, you might think this is the end
of the story, but that warm rain did its trick. And when he got back to the cabin, he went running up
to the door, banged on it, said, dear, come on out. Take a look. You won't believe it. And she didn't.
Says, I don't believe you've got a thing. Where is it all? But, but, but, but, but, but.
Well, deer hide stretches when it gets warm and wet like that, doesn't it? Yeah. And he could feel the
strands were going all the way back down to the lake. And it was too dark to go there. He says,
all right, I don't want to hear about it. He took care of old Alex. He hung the harness on a stump in
front of the cabin. And he had cold corn for dinner.
And the bed was kind of cold that night, too. Well, in the morning, things tend to look better when
the sun comes up. Well, in Indiana, it's no different. In fact, it might even be more so, because they
looked out their front window, which was the only window that they had. They looked out that front window,
and there was the stone boat. The leather in that warm sunshine had gone back to its original size and shape.
And well, there were all the animals, there was the honey, everything was there. And he said, well,
what do you think? She says, I don't believe it, but I'm seeing it, and we're gonna have plenty of food
all year. Well, you know, my great grandpa Jack, they raised nine children. His timing was impeccable.
And they loved to hear stories at night,
And you know what story they asked for most of all and you've just heard it. Now I'm going to tell you
something that's absolutely true and that is we pass stories along in the oral tradition and stories
are written down in collections so they stay alive. What I've told you tonight is two different stories
brought together in marriage.
So the first one is from Richard Chase's grandfather tales, right? Jack's hunting trips. And the second
source that I've woven into this is great grandfather in the honey tree. And that's by Sam and Zoe Swain.
Richard Chase was the editor of the first book. And you see, you can find these books on the internet
archive and some fine public libraries.
You can read them. You can tell them. And remember, when you're telling a story like this and you look
at the person you're talking to, they're probably not going to believe you. Thank you. Thank you, Ken.
a nice segue, I think, to the story I have to share tonight. My name is Lisa Ciampelli, and the story
that I'm sharing is called Parley Garfield and the Frogs. And this story is adapted from the tale told
by professional storyteller Margaret Reed McDonald, who grew up in southern Indiana and attended Indiana
University right here in Bloomington. Now, I got to thinking about this story after a trip
recent trip to the Pacific Northwest, where I enjoyed the same gorgeous landscapes that were the reward
of the explorers Lewis and Clark when they journeyed from Missouri in May of 1804, and finally,
after a year, reached their destination of the Pacific Ocean. Now, in our era,
of jet planes and GPS navigation tools, I was just struck by the courage and the fortitude that it took
these explorers to make their way over forested mountains and wade through raging rivers when they were
hungry and cold and just motivated by their desire to discover what was out there, what was on the other
side, and to document their way as they went.
And although they were incredibly brave and savvy individuals, I think their success in reaching their
destination was due in part, in great part, critical part, to the help that they received from the indigenous
people who guided them through their native lands. So how do Lewis and Clark relate to Parley Garfield? Well,
Maybe a bit of a stretch, but you might be able to call Parley an explorer in his own right. I'll let
you decide. I first read this story in one of Margaret Reed McDonald's books called 20 Tellable Tales.
But Margaret Reed McDonald says that she first learned this story from her grandfather, Parley Garfield Reed.
So I tell this story tonight in honor of all the explorers who have come before us and in honor of the
granddads and grammies and memes and papas who have shared their stories with their children
and grandchildren so that we have them to enjoy today. Now, when Parley Garfield was a young man, he
had a girlfriend who lived across the wide creek that ran behind Parley Garfield's farmhouse.
And Parley Garfield liked to visit his girlfriend frequently. And fortunately, the creek bed was often
dry. And it was no problem for Parley to walk across that dry creek bed on the flat rocks that lined
the bed. But there were some parts of the year during the spring and stormy summers when that creek
bed would fill up with rushing water, swirling with mud and sticks.
And at that time, Parley would have to figure out if he would be able to get across that wide creek
safely or whether he would have to find another way around. Now, fortunately, there were some frogs
that lived near and in this creek. And Parley would call out to the frogs for help. He would call out
to them, how deep is it? How deep is it?
How deep is it? And the little frogs that live right at the creek's edge, those peeper frogs, they would
answer back, ankle deep, ankle deep, ankle deep, ankle deep, ankle deep. And so this day, Parley,
he figured, oh, well, that's no problem at all. And he took off his shoes, and he started to wade into
that creek water.
When it got up above his ankles, he paused. And he called again to the frogs that lived a little bit
further into the creek. They were a little bit bigger. And he called to them, how deep is it?
How deep is it? How deep is it? And these little bit bigger frogs, they answered back, knee deep,
knee deep, knee deep, knee deep, knee deep.
That's entirely manageable, thought Parley. And he just rolled up his pant legs a little bit higher,
and he continued on wading into that creek water. But when that creek water crept up above his knees,
he stopped again, and he called out to the frogs that he could see sitting on a log just about halfway
through the creek. Now, you can join me, because we don't often get a chance to be loud in the library.
So join me in calling out, as Parley did,
How deep is it? How deep is it? How deep is it? And these little bit bigger frogs sitting on the log,
they answered back, belly deep, belly deep, belly deep, belly deep. Well, Parley was really eager to
see his girlfriend, and he figured he was already wet. So he continued
crossing over that creek, trying to find his way on the flat rocks that he knew were on the bottom somewhere.
But when that water got up above his belly, he stopped again. And he called out to the big old bullfrog
that he could see sitting on a rock nearby. How deep is it? How deep is it? How deep is it? And that
big old bullfrog answered back,
Better go round, round, round. Better go round, round, round. Well, Parley was really determined to
see his girlfriend. And he was already wet. But he did not want to get into that water and be pulled
under. And he wasn't a very good swimmer. So he turned around.
And he clomped back up the creek about a mile or so until there was a bridge that he could cross over
to the other side. And he was able to arrive at his girlfriend's house, soggy but safe and sound, due
to his persistence and the sage advice of the frogs. Thank you for your help.
Mary Elizabeth, Mary Beth Simpson. Here I sit on buttermilk hill Who could blame me, crime I feel Every
tear could turn a mill
to see him go. Only time will heal my woe. Johnny has gone for a soldier. I'll sell my flax, I'll sell
my wheel to buy my love a sword of steel that he may wield upon
storyteller. My name is David Matlack. Now, some of you might associate the surname Matlack with a rather
important document that's garnered a lot of attention this month, as it should. My great-great-great-great-great-uncle
was Timothy Matlack, the scribe of the Declaration of Independence. It was Jefferson's words, but ol'
Uncle Tim just had really good handwriting.
and he was the clerk of the Continental Congress. My sister Anne is here all the way from Whidbey Island,
Washington, and we're very proud of old Uncle Tim, but to do his story justice would take all night,
so instead I want to switch to my father's maternal side of the family and tell you about an interesting
character, and I can scarcely do her justice, so I'll just give you some tidbits from her fascinating
life, my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.
And this is the way the story is passed down in my family. Elizabeth Griscombe was born New Year's Day,
1752, with flaming auburn hair, lily-white skin, and flashing blue eyes. Red, white, and blue. She was
born in Gloucester City, New Jersey. It's on the eastern shore of the Delaware, directly across from
Philadelphia.
She was about the middle of a very large Quaker family. Her father, Samuel Griscombe, was a carpenter.
And her mother, Rebecca James Griscombe, as far as we know, worked in the home. And I assume she worked
quite busily. She would raise or bury 17 children in all. Elizabeth and eight of her siblings would
live into adulthood.
Now, when Elizabeth was still a toddler, Samuel packed up his big family and moved across the river
into Philadelphia. And here he prospered as a carpenter. Philadelphia was already the largest city in
the colonies, and it was growing exponentially in the 1750s. And when Elizabeth and her sisters came
of a certain age, they attended a public girls' school led by two Quaker women. They were taught reading,
writing, ciphering, and vocational skills. And Elizabeth's favorite part of the day was when the school
mistress would announce, now is that time for thee to pursue that skill in which thee most delights.
And for young Elizabeth, that was sewing and embroidery. Embroidery without embellishment. Plain and
simple was, still is, the Quakerly advice for all matters, particularly of dress and in the home.
And then the story goes that towards the end of her primary school career, one day she was trotting
down Arch Street to visit an older sister who was working in John Webster's upholstery shop. And in
the shop that day, one of the other girls was having difficulty with a specific task and Elizabeth offered
her help. And when John Webster saw the perfection of Elizabeth's stitches, he took her on as an apprentice
on the spot.
Now, upholstery in those days, it was certainly the cushions and fabrics on furniture, heavy draperies,
but a really big part of it was making mattresses. And this was really hard work. It was really thick
canvas, and young Elizabeth would have to stuff and overstuff it with horsehair and feathers, and then
with a giant needle, and certainly with help from the other girls, she would sew the lid on. It was
very difficult work.
Well, sometime around the late 1760s, there came to the shop another young apprentice, John. And this
hardworking lad caught Elizabeth's eye. And well, Elizabeth caught his eye. And what began as shy, furtive
glances over the period of five years blossomed into longing looks of love. But there was a problem.
And Elizabeth knew that she would have to speak to her father.
So one Sunday morning after meeting on the way home, walking down Arch Street, she broached the subject,
Father, in meeting this morning, these shared how we must love that of God in everyone, the savage Indian,
the Negro slave, everyone. Why then, why then, Father, is it so wrong that I should love an Anglican? My child,
This is not the type of love of which I speak. Thee knows that. That is an entirely different matter
altogether. But I don't see that it is. But she could tell from the throbbing veins in his neck and
the redness rising up his cheeks towards the broad rim of his Quaker hat that she would get no further
with this argument. But she was a strong-willed young woman, and she knew what she wanted. So she and
John made and carried out plans for elopement.
They met at the wharf on Arch Street. They hired a boatman to row them across the Delaware to the town
of her birth, Gloucester City, where a justice of the peace married them in Hug's Tavern. The marriage
certificate is dated November 4, 1774. And it is signed, probably with auto pen, by the colonial governor
of the colony of New Jersey, William Franklin.
And just as William would become estranged from his father, Benjamin Franklin, for William's lifelong
loyalist sympathies, so too now Elizabeth would become estranged from her father and family for marrying
outside of the Quaker faith. Now John's was a family of prominence in the Church of England community
there in Philadelphia.
His father was a minister, and at the time of their wedding, he had just received his own parish just
downstream in Wilmington, Delaware. Prior to that, he was rector at Christ Church, the preeminent Church
of England parish in Philadelphia. If you weren't Quaker, everybody that was anybody attended Christ
Church, including prominent figures from all over the colonies when they were in town.
and they were coming to town more and more frequently for important and clandestine state business.
Now, Elizabeth never found a spiritual home at Christ Church, but evidently, it was really good for
networking. And they had a sound system, but it seemed to go out. It's okay. I'll just project.
As soon as the newlyweds hung out a shingle for their own upholstery shop on Chestnut Street, they received
a huge commission from the right honorable Benjamin Chu, Chief Justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court.
And he was building a stately home as a wedding gift for one of his daughters and commissioned John
and Elizabeth to furnish the home. It was a huge commission.
And the family story goes that through Christchurch, she received a much smaller commission, but perhaps
of more importance for the trajectory of her life. And that was to embroider the initials on the long
flowing sleeves in the European style of the wealthy planter from Virginia who would sit in John's family's
pew at Christchurch. G.W. George Washington. Yeah.
So the newlyweds were working, but these were such tumultuous and uncertain times in Philadelphia and
all of the colonies. There had already been bloodshed in New England. Her uncle, Abel James, one of
the wealthiest of the wealthy Quaker merchants, was right in the middle of a lesser-known but equally
subversive and significant Philadelphia Tea Party. Daily, the young couple would have to check the bulletins
for what goods
were being embargoed or sent back or that patriots were encouraged to boycott, there was so much uncertainty.
Now John, as an Anglican, did not have to grapple with matters of conscientious objection in the Quaker
peace testimony. He became a patriot. And he became radicalized when he joined the Masons. And he joined
Ben Franklin's Philadelphia militia.
to protect the city from British invasion. And what happened next is shrouded in mystery, but one version
of the story holds that one night, in the middle of the night, he was guarding a cache of patriot munitions
down near the wharf when he heard the scuffle of feet. And before he realized what was happening, there
was a massive explosion. And he would later die from his injuries.
He was buried January 26, 1776 at Christ Church. She's scarcely married for two years. She's 24 years
old, a sole proprietor. She's a war widow. But later in life, she would say that she never wanted for
work. And some very important work was waiting for her.
Later that year, one morning, she was preparing to open her shop when there was a knock at the door.
She opened the door, and there stood GW, George Washington. And with him was Robert Morris, the wealthiest
man in all the colonies, financier of the American Revolution. And next to him was John's uncle,
George Ross, who like Robert Morris,
was a signator of the Declaration of Independence. We would consider all three of these men founding
fathers. Across the pond, they were considered traders to the crown with a price on their head, as would
be anyone who did business with them. So Elizabeth quickly ushered them in back to the parlor for privacy,
and the men explained the reason for their visit. They explained
that the troops needed a common symbol, a common banner, colors, a common flag around which to gather.
It was so confusing. Every state and town militia had their own colors. Pennsylvania Navy had their
own colors. Continental Army had none. They needed a common symbol. And they unrolled a scroll and they
showed her their plan.
And she studied it, and she said, would it not stand out better against any hue of sky if the red stripe
were at the top? And the men agreed. Yes, it would. And then she studied the canton, the upper left
corner, reflecting pool blue. It was supposed to be. And the new constellation,
of 13 six-pointed stars in the European style and on the Washington crest. And she said, excuse me,
but would not five-pointed stars stand out more crisply on the field of blue? And the men said, well,
yes, but they're too difficult to make. We're going to need a lot of these. And she said, no, no, no,
no. She took a piece of paper. She did a little origami, did a couple snips, and held up the perfect
pattern of a five-pointed star. And so the men agreed.
And then they asked her, they asked her earnestly, can you do this? And her humble answer, I think,
speaks for so many patriots of whom so much was asked in that great American experiment. She simply
said, I don't know, but I shall try.
And that is my family story of our first flag and my great, great, great, great, great grandma,
Betsy Ross. Yes. Now, if you're of a certain age, you might be thinking, well, wait a minute. Your family
story is exactly how I learned it as a child and myriad children's books and
Flag Day and Fourth of July pageants, the famous painting that hangs in the Betsy Ross house commemorated
in 1952 U.S. Postal Service with a stamp. It's exactly the same story. Yes. That is because the family
story, quite literally, began its trajectory to becoming the cherished American legend some 100 years
later when
her grandson, my great-great-grandfather, William Canby, presented a paper to the Pennsylvania Historical
Society, complete with signed, notarized affidavits from other surviving grandchildren and one surviving
daughter who lived into her 90s. Betsy herself lived to be 84, retiring only at 80 because of blindness.
All right, well, all of these
The paper and the signed letters all told the same story, how they would gather around Granny Betsy's
skirts and she would tell them that story. And then it was picked up by the popular press in 1876, just
in time for the American Centennial. And, um,
Centennial Americans were eager to forget about the Civil War, and they were hungry to hearken back
to those revolutionary days, as was fitting for Centennial, and pluck out the stories, the myths,
the legends, the heroes, and the heroines. Now, if you're of a younger set, or a more cynical set, you
might be thinking, wait a minute, hasn't the Betsy Ross story been
debunked and dismissed as purely a legend, a myth? Well, recall, I introduced myself as a storyteller.
It's a family tradition. Evidently, going all the way back to my great, great, great, great, great grandma,
Betsy Ross. Thank you.
Trisha, Linda, Joanne, Diane, Ellen, Simpson, Taylor. I have another very sad song for you. Loo, loo,
skip to my loo. Loo, loo, skip to my loo. Loo, loo, skip to my loo. Skip to my loo, my darling. I got
a girl who eats turnips raw, brushes her teeth with a handful of straw, combs her head with a cross-cut
saw. Skip to my loo, my darling.
Skip to my loo, loo, loo. Skip to my loo. Skip to my loo, my darling. Ants in the sugar bowl two by
two. Mules in the barnyard kicking up through. Kittens in the haystack. Mew, mew, mew. Skip to my loo,
my darling.
His name is Farida Pawan. Do you know David Crockett? Born in the mountains of Tennessee, raised to
know the name of every tree, killed a bear when he was three. He grew up to be a man with no fear.
In fact, so brave, he fought single-handedly in the war in the New Frontier. Then later in life,
He went to Washington D.C. and took over Washington D.C. for a spell and even during his free time fixed
the crack in the Liberty Bell. And then, finally, he marched on west as a leading pioneer and made himself
a legend to folks far and near. But do you know of his partner, Sally Ann?
thunder and whirlwind, Crockett. Well, if you don't, you should read Stephen Keylock's book. But tell
you what, I'll do you a favor. I'll tell you a little bit of the story so that you have an idea.
Listen up. About 250 years ago, a remarkable baby was born.
On the day that she was born, she said, hi, I'm Celianne Thunderen-Worldwind. How you doing?
You can talk? Said her astonished parents. Well, I can talk. In fact, I can out-talk, I can out-grin,
I can out-scream, I can out-grin-whirl, and I can out-run just about anyone. Amazing.
Amazing, said her parents. But her nine brothers did not agree. Celian is a loudmouth liar. Everybody
knows that babies can't do all of that. Everybody knows babies can't run, especially girl babies. Well,
let's race up the mountain, Celian said, and I'll show you.
I'll show you what I can do." And without missing a beat, she ran up the mountain, past racing rabbits,
trotting turkeys and galloping horses. And when she got to the top of the mountain, she came right back
down. And on the way down, she saw her brothers just huffing and fuffing at the beginning of the mountain,
at the bottom of the mountain. And she looked at them. She said, I'll see you at the finish line, you
tortoises.
Well, when they got to the finish line, her brothers exhausted and defeated and they conceded, Sally
Ann is amazing. Well, Sally Ann went on to do more amazing things. At age 18, she decided she was going
to go out there and live out in the wilderness and got to get to know all the animals all by herself.
Now everything was going just fine until one fierce winter's night when the frigid cold drove Salian
into a cave where a bear was hibernating.
the hair on Salian's head. The bear woke up and he growled and he opened his big mouth and before he
could chomp down on Salian as a midnight snack, Salian flashed out the biggest, widest grin.
It was so wide. It was so bright. It flashed like lightning, stunned
rolled back onto the stalactites on the cave and rubbed against the stalactites, which ripped off all
his fur that left him with almost nothing on. Embarrassed, he scampered off. Well, there was nothing
else for Sally Ann to do except to take that fur and wrap it out around her to stay warm and to continue
on with her journey.
She saw a fella in a strange predicament. He had his head stuck between two tree trunks. And to make
things more miserable, there were two eagles pecking on his head. And so Salianne began to chase away
the eagles and she decided to scream.
was so loud, it blasted off all the colors off the top of the bald eagle's head. Star spangled me banner.
I just about created the first American bald eagles. How about that? Well, she wasn't done yet. She
had to yank the man out of the tree trunks. And so she shook the bushes
and found six rattler snakes that she knotted up into a lasso, and she used that to yank the man out
of the tree trunks. The man was speechless in admiration. He said, my heart, my heart is pounding like
a buffalo stampede. Will you, will you, will you marry me? Well, suddenly I thought about it.
for a minute and thought, I guess that's a fine idea. Let's get married. And so Sally Ann Thunderen
and David Crockett got married and they moved to a farmhouse right along the mighty Mississippi River.
Not long after they moved into the farmhouse, David Crockett had to leave for Washington, D.C. to be
a politician.
A few nights after he was away, there was a gang of bull alligators that were floating up and down the
Mississippi. When they saw the farmhouse, they thought the roof was just a perfect place for them to
play king of the mountain whereby they would fight to say who could stay on top the longest. Now they
began climbing up the rooftop and when Sally Ann heard them, she said, get off my roof.
off my roof. But the alligators were too busy. They were too busy playing. They didn't pay any attention
to her. So Sally Ann grabbed the tail of one of the alligators and she started whirling the alligator's
tail and the alligator that went with it faster and faster and harder and harder until she kicked up
a tornado that blew all the alligators up and down.
Mississippi. And you know what? For three straight days, it was raining alligator all the way from Minnesota
where the Mississippi started all the way to New Orleans where the river flowed into the Gulf. When
Davy Crockett came home, he was so proud, so proud of Sally Ann Thunder and he said, Sally Ann,
Sally Ann, let's have
30 children. Well, folks, the story didn't tell us how many children they eventually had. But knowing
Sally Ann, Thunder Ann, Whirlwind Crockett, who could out-talk, out-grin, out-run, out-scream, out-whirl
just about anything she wanted to, she could have had 30
60, 90, or more children if she wanted to. So there. Hello. My name is Jonathan, and we're going to
go just a little bit further past the Mississippi
to Kansas for this tale. This is the story What Gold? And it is from a collection called Sweet Land
of Story by Pleasant de Spain. Now Charles H. Withington moved with his wife down to southern Kansas
in 1853. And Charles opened up the very first dry goods store there.
Now in those days, there wasn't a bank in Council Grove, and so the Withingtons had to keep their own
accounts. Now since business was largely conducted in gold in those days, this means that after a few
years, the Withingtons had quite a store of valuable gold coins. Now Mr. Withington, he trusted his
wife's judgment more than he trusted his own. He was a wise man, wouldn't you say?
And so it was Mrs. Withington's job to store the gold. Now, Mrs. Withington was as smart as she was
strong, and so she was well up to the task. Now, one day, Charles had to leave town on business, but
he was worried about leaving his wife at home all alone. You see, just the other day, the Anderson gang
had been spotted in the next county over.
Now the Anderson gang, they were a family of rough riders, three sons, and one father, and they had
a terrible reputation for going around and taking from folks anything that they so happened to fancy.
Oh, I don't know if I should go, dear. The Andersons are around and, oh, they've certainly heard about
our gold at this point. What if they come and try to take it while I'm gone?
What gold is that, darling?" said Mrs. Withington. There's no gold here. You go on along. I will be
fine. Okay, whatever you say, but I will be back by nightfall at the latest. And so Charles got up on
his horse and he rode off as fast as he could to do his business. Now it was wash day that day and so
Mrs. Withington, she went out on the porch and she took out two saw horses
and she set them up on the porch and she got down a great big wash tub and she set it right on those
sawhorses and she filled it up with cold well water, put in a great big stack of very dirty clothes
and a whole mountain of soap and she just started in washing. And now it wasn't long, you see, before
she noticed a cloud of dust off in the distance.
It was the Anderson gang, and they were coming right for her cabin. Now, Mrs. Withington, she knew the
Anderson family from back years ago, before they went bad, when the boys were about knee-high
to a jackrabbit. And so, she showed no fear when those four men rode into her yard. Well, howdy, Mr.
Anderson. You and your boys look thirsty. There's a well just around the other side of the cabin. Go
on and help yourself.
Thank you kindly, Mrs. Withington," said Mr. Anderson. My boys and I certainly are thirsty and hungry,
too. I seem to recall a few years ago you invited my family over for a Sunday supper, and the meal was
mighty tasty. Go get us something to eat. Well, Mrs. Withington, well, she just stopped her washing
coal. Nice of you to remember my cooking.
But that was from some years ago before y'all started in robbing folks. And as I recall, you were invited
to supper. You didn't just stroll up and order a meal. Why not? Even my husband does that. He shows
me the proper respect, why he would ask me, all right, all right, I see where you're getting with this.
So I'll ask you, would you please
Get us something to eat. My boys and I are hungry. Well, that's better. Come on in. I'll see what I
can do. And so Mrs. Withington brought the Anderson gang in, and she gave them a fine meal of cold ham
and beans, fresh cornbread, and strong coffee. The man ate it with gusto and offered their compliments
politely. Polishing off the last of his cornbread, Mr. Anderson said, mm, ah.
All right now, Mrs. Withington, hand over the gold and we'll be on our way. Now what gold is that?
The gold? From your husband's store? Everyone knows that you are the one in charge of it. Hand it over
and there'll be no trouble. Well, I am sorry, Mr. Anderson, you must be mistaken. There's no gold here.
Mr. Withington would never leave a thing around like that for you to just
Steel? You'll excuse me if I don't believe you. Now hand it over. There is nothing to hand over. We
will search this cabin, and I doubt that I could stop you. Anyway, I have got to finish my washing.
And so, Mrs. Withington, she went back out to the porch to finish her washing, and the Andersons just
tore that little cabin apart.
They pulled out every drawer. They opened every cupboard and closet. They threw everything onto the
floor. They ripped open the mattress and all of the pillows. There were feathers everywhere.
But no gold. When they had moved every single little piece of furniture in that cabin, they started
just banging on the walls and the floors, listening for a hollow spot. Nothing.
And when the inside of the cabin had been thoroughly checked, they went outside and they looked all
the walls over real close. And they climbed up to the roof and they looked around up there. And they
went under the porch and they found a lot of dirt, but no gold. They even looked. They even looked in
the outhouse. Yeah. Nothing. Finally, Mr. Anderson,
Why, he walked right up to Mrs. Withington doing her washing, and he pulled his pistol out of his holster,
and he pointed it directly at her and said, all right, lady, I have had it. You tell us where that gold
is or else. Well, Mrs. Withington, well, she just looked him dead in the eye, and she said, you may
as well pull the trigger, Mr. Anderson, because like I told you before, there is no gold here.
Mr. Anderson stood. He knew when he'd been beat. And so he called his boys over, and all four of them
just rode back the way they came. Mrs. Withington, she just finished up her washing like she intended
to do, right about the time her husband got home. When he did, he got off his horse and ran over and
gave her a great big hug. Oh, I heard the Andersons paid us a visit.
Did they get the gold? Oh, you mean this gold? And Mrs. Withington, well, she reached her hand down
into that wash tub and she pulled out that big sack of gold right from where it had laid hidden all
day long under nothing but soapy water and soggy clothes.
Good evening. I'm Patty Jackson Smith-Jonathan, and I'd like to sing you another song. Oh, Shenandoah,
I long to hear
to the
I'm Ginny Ritchie, and we started this program, Kellyn started the program with a story from a book
called Sand in the Bag. Sand in the Bag is stories, folk tales collected by M.A. Jagendorf in Ohio,
Indiana, and Illinois. So I'm going to end with another story from Sand in the Bag. Oh, a little promo
for the library.
If you are interested in this sort of folktales, there's a copy of Sand in the Bag right upstairs in
the Indiana Room. And you can see it when the library is open. Now, M. A. Jagendorf collected stories.
He had a curious method of doing so.
Once he'd identified someone that told good stories, he'd sit down and say, let me tell you a story.
And you know, one story always leads to another. And sure enough, the person he was talking to would
say, well, that reminds me of a tale or I know that one a little different. Let me tell you my version.
And so, he would collect
Oh, more stories than he could put in one book. And one of them, he was sitting down with Louis B. Richardson
in Trafalgar. And I believe he might have told him a story from Ohio about how great Ohio was.
Because Mr. Richardson said, well now, Indiana's a grand state. Why, Indiana?
has some of the smartest people in the entire country living right here. Of course, it also has. Let
me tell you a story about that. One fine day, there was two fellas sitting in an old corn crib,
shelling corn. Now, the corn crib was dim and shady, it was full of
dry corn, and they were sitting cross-legged on the half-rotten punching floor. You don't have to have
light or pay much attention to shell corn. And so it's a fine time to talk. Now, the one sitting over
there by the upturned barrel with the dark shadows beneath it, that was Lem. And he was the farmer.
And the other one, that was little Jimmy Hodge.
He was the farmhand. Lem said, Jimmy, what was you making such a ruckus about last night? Oh,
I was scared, said Jimmy. I was scared of ghosts. What ghosts? Oh, them little tiny ones, them little
bitty ones with the shooting lanterns. Them wasn't ghosts, Jimmy.
them was lightning bugs. Well, maybe some was. But some wasn't. I know. Talking about being scared,
said Lynn, did I ever tell you about the time I met a bear, a big one? No, said Jimmy. What'd you do?
I run. The bear run after me. Did he catch you? No, I climbed up a corn stalk, got away from him. What?
Oh yeah, we grew corn big in them days. Why, that corn stalk was taller than the barn, and it was as
big around as an old swamp maple.
to show how big that corn stalk had been. And from that dark hole under the upturned barrel, they came
a something, a long slender something, and it struck his hand, and struck again, and struck once more.
I've been bit, he scrambled to his feet. It was a copperhead, said Jimmy. You're going to die.
top of their voices, copperhead, copperhead. Well, that got everybody's attention. All the kids stopped
their playing and their chores and came running. And Lem went in and laid himself down on the bed, holding
his hand up and moaning and groaning and saying, I've been bit by a copperhead. I'm going to die. Oh,
no. Everybody started yelling.
screaming and crying because everybody knows the bite of a copperhead is certain death. But the women,
they had ideas, things they could do. Why, bile up a polstice and pull that poison out. Oh, tie your
apron around his arm real tight so it'll keep the blood from flowing back into his heart. And corn liquor's
real good for snake bites, said Jimmy. I get the corn liquor.
Dan's wife called their oldest son Dan and said, Dan, saddle up the horse and go for the doctor, quick
as you can. When the doctor walked into the room, it was pure pandemonium. He could hardly tell which
one of them had been bit for the screaming and the yelling.
and the dog barking and the baby bawling and the sobbing and the, oh my goodness, but finally they quieted
down when he went to examine Lem's hand. Well, you've been bit, all right. Did you see the critter that
bit you? I did, said Jimmy. I saw it. It was a copperhead.
It was as thick as your arm and as long as law. Hmm, said the doctor. Hmm. Well, Jimmy, you and I better
go down to that corn crib and take care of that critter before it bites somebody else. You see that
iron poker there by the stove? You get that nice and hot, and we'll go burn it out. Jimmy was not enthusiastic.
But the doctor said to do it. So he wrapped a rag around that poker. And they went down. They got it
real hot. It was practically glowing red. They went in the corn crib, and he showed the doctor over
there, under that barrel. What are you waiting for, said the doctor. Give it a poke.
in all of Indiana. She was squawking, she was flopping, feathers were flying. Hmm, said the doctor,
hmm, she must have eggs under there. Reckoned she didn't like old Lin getting too close. The doctor
looked at Jimmy. Jimmy looked like a sheep out in the rain.
I guess he isn't going to die. You'd be right," said the doctor. Let's go tell him. Now, when they went
back in the room, it was subdued. Oh, yeah, there were sobs, little sobs and sniffles, but mostly people
were resigned. But then the doctor said,
Well, Lem, you are not going to die. Lem sat up. He sat on the edge of the bed. And then the doctor
told him why. There was silence while this information was processed.
by one. It occurred to them what had really happened. The baby did the laugh. They couldn't help it.
The kids were giggling. And even the doctor had a big grin on his face. Everybody in the room was laughing
and smiling, except Lam. He looked kind of dour.
He was card turning red. He knew. He knew all right. For the rest of his natural born days, every time
somebody saw him, there'd be that smile. There'd be that snicker. And he'd know they were thinking or
saying, oh, look, there goes that fool. There's a man that was so foolish
that he couldn't tell the difference between being snake bit and being hand picked. So it was. We're
so glad you came out tonight. Thank you so much for coming. And I want to repeat what Laura said.
Thanks to the Monroe County Public Library for its strong support of storytelling and of the Bloomington
Storytellers Guild. And also, our deepest appreciation for the crew that has recorded this performance
and many of our other performances. And you know, you can go on the library's website and you can request
any of those performances, which is a great service. We really appreciate it.
Now, if you're thinking of a story, because as MA Jagendorff discovered, if you tell a story, it gets
other people thinking about stories. And if you're thinking that you've got a story you'd like to share,
well, you watch the library's announcements for our meeting in September, or check our Facebook page,
or our Instagram, or one of those things, and we
be right glad to hear your tale. I'll leave you with a bit of old Hoosier wisdom. You ready? M. A. Jagendorf
wrote this in the book at the end of the story I just told, Copperhead in the Bin. So, genuine folk wisdom
from 1953, that's when the book came out, maybe 52. Remember well and keep in mind an old cow's tail
falls down behind. See you next time.