Kentucky Hauntings (15 page)

“Do you think they see the crazy man?” joked Maggie.

“Very funny!” laughed Mrs. Gammon. “Just get on your way before I change my mind!”

Maggie gave her mother a big hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she said. “I won't be gone long.”

She grabbed her bucket and ran out the door, never to return home again.

Mrs. Gammon washed the family's clothes as she had planned. Then she carried them outside and hung them on the clothesline to dry.

“I wonder what's keeping that child so long,” thought Mrs. Gammon. “I could use some help hanging these clothes.”

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and the temperature rose toward the upper nineties. The forecast was for a hot day. Mrs. Gammon finished hanging the clothes by herself, wiped the sweat from her brow, and began to cook the noon meal. Mr. Gammon, who had been working in the fields, came in to eat.

“Where's Maggie?” he asked.

“She went blackberry picking,” said Mrs. Gammon. “I'm getting a little worried. She should have been back a long time ago.”

“Do you think she might have gone to sell them to someone?” asked Mr. Gammon.

“She's never done that without coming home to tell me,” said Mrs. Gammon.

“I'll walk down to the blackberry patch and take a look around,” said Mr. Gammon.

“No,” said Mrs. Gammon. “You eat your dinner so you can get back to work. I'll go. I know where she usually picks. Lord, I hope she's not snake bit!”

Mrs. Gammon hurried to the patch by the woods where her daughter always loved to go.

“Maggie!” she called. “Where are you? Come on in! It's time to eat.”

There was no answer. The woods were silent, too. Mrs. Gammon saw no sign of a snake, but she noticed that the grass was smashed down as if something had been dragged into the woods. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw Maggie's empty bucket on the ground. Right beside it was one of Maggie's shoes.

Mrs. Gammon ran to the house, screaming for her husband. He ran out to see what was wrong. She collapsed into his arms, crying.

“Maggie's gone!” she sobbed. “Something dragged her into the woods! I found her shoe and empty bucket!”

“Now calm down,” he told her. “Go inside and call the sheriff. Wait for him here. I'm going to look for her.”

Her husband ran toward the blackberry patch by the woods while Mrs. Gammon dialed the sheriff's number. A quick look around the blackberry patch gave Mr. Gammon no information about his daughter. He turned and headed into the woods. He saw the shoe of Maggie's that his wife had seen. He could see where bushes had been broken and pushed down, as if someone had been dragged into the woods. He struggled to fight down his fear, but he knew there had definitely been something in the blackberry patch much more dangerous than a snake.

The sheriff arrived with some men, and they proceeded to search the whole area. Maggie's other shoe was found on the ground at the edge of a cliff above a creek. There were no other clues about Maggie's whereabouts. The men searched the woods and down along the creek, but there was no trace of the missing girl. They continued the search for days, but they had little hope of finding her now. Some of the searchers swore that they heard something following along beside them while they were searching, but the invisible thing never materialized. Finally the search was called off.

Mrs. Gammon refused to believe that her daughter was gone forever. She kept busy during the day. In the daylight hours, she could pretend that Maggie was off visiting her friends, but it was different when darkness settled over the woods and the blackberry patch. She felt so guilty about letting Maggie go out alone that morning! She would leave the house at night and go to the blackberry patch, calling her daughter's name.

One night she was in the patch near the woods when she heard something crashing through the bushes coming toward her, grunting and panting heavily. She ran to the house as fast as she could and told her husband. He went to the patch, but he only heard the usual night sounds of crickets, frogs, and insects. He thought his wife might have been frightened enough by this experience to discontinue her searches at night, but he was wrong.

The next night, Mrs. Gammon was more determined than ever to look for her child.

“I know she's alive!” she kept saying. “We would have found her body if she were dead!”

“You have to accept that she's gone,” Mr. Gammon told his wife. “She's beyond our help now.”

“I think someone captured her and is holding her prisoner,” said Mrs. Gammon. “We can't give up! Please help me look for her!”

When her husband refused to go, she left home alone and went to the berry patch.

Mr. Gammon knew it was impossible to stop her. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table to wait. Several minutes passed. Then he heard Mrs. Gammon's scream cut through the night.

He grabbed his flashlight and raced from the house to her rescue, but she wasn't there! There was nothing in the berry patch. He walked toward the woods, shining his light on the ground. Signs on the ground showed once again that a body had been dragged from the berry patch into the woods. Mr. Gammon called out to his wife, but all he heard was grunting and heavy breathing from something he couldn't see.

He knew it was dangerous to search alone, so he returned quickly to the house and called the sheriff. Again the sheriff brought men with him, and the search began for Mrs. Gammon. The trail led to the edge of the cliff, and that's where they found her. The sight was one they would never be able to put out of their minds for as long as they lived. It would haunt their waking hours and their dreams. They wondered what happened, but Mrs. Gammon could tell them nothing. When they found her, she was clawed to shreds and half eaten.

Residents of the area refused to go into the blackberry patch after that. Dogs kept barking at something unseen in the woods, but they wouldn't enter either. Stories began to circulate that the monster of the blackberry patch was real. Juicy blackberries grew in the patch, but those who were tempted to go near them heard the grunting and heavy breathing, and ran for their lives.

Many people in the neighborhood swore that they saw the ghost of Mrs. Gammon, walking through the blackberry patch at the edge of the woods, looking for her lost daughter. As a ghost, she appeared to be whole.

Because the mystery was never solved, some believe that the horrible unseen thing still stalks the patch for victims. If they get a longing for blackberry cobbler or jam, they head for their favorite market or bakery.

We saved this story for last because it is a tribute to a very dear friend of ours, Joy Pennington. It is hard for us to tell, but because we lived through it ourselves, we know it to be true. Joy died on March 23, 2011, but her dying doesn't mean this is a sad story. She wouldn't have allowed that. Joy's incredible journey to meet death was a beautiful experience for her and all who knew and loved her because she made it so.

Joy and Roberta met in the fall of 1958 when they both entered Berea College. Joy's husband, Lee, entered Berea at the beginning of 1959. Lonnie met Joy and Lee after he and Roberta married in 1977, and they moved across the street from the Penningtons in 1985. The four were all good friends and did many things together, but as with most friendships, their good times were too often taken for granted. After all, there would always be time to do things together!

Joy and Lee were teachers and founders of the Corn Island Storytelling Festival, but they also traveled the world and made documentaries. Joy always seemed blessed with good health, so none of us had any idea anything was wrong until she cracked a bone in her hip. After a while, when the bone didn't heal properly, the doctor ordered X-rays, which showed suspicious spots. The doctor then ordered Joy in for extensive tests.

It was a late October afternoon when Roberta's phone rang. She was surprised to hear Joy's voice because Lee and Joy were supposed to be at the doctor's office getting Joy's test results. Roberta looked at the clock and realized they were probably home by now. That wasn't the case. Actually, they were on their way home.

“Roberta, I need a favor,” Joy said.

“Sure,” said Roberta. “What do you need?”

There was a tone in Joy's voice that Roberta had not heard before. But she didn't dream of what she was about to hear.

“I have to go on full oxygen,” Joy said in that same tone. “They are on their way to our house to set it up now, but Lee and I are stuck in traffic. They may get to the house before we do, so could you watch for them and let them in with your key if they get there first?”

“Absolutely,” Roberta said. “But why do you need oxygen?”

“I have stage four cancer,” Joy said in a steady voice. “It's in my bones, lungs, brain, sinus cavity—just everywhere.”

“Joy, it must be a mistake,” said Roberta, not really believing what she had just heard. “You are never sick!”

“It's not a mistake,” she said in that same steady voice. “I've seen the X-rays and all the results. They give me two months to live.”

Roberta wanted to scream and cry, but she knew what that tone in Joy's voice meant. No crying and no pity. Roberta's heart was crying, though, and she was thinking that Joy's time couldn't possibly be that short. She wanted much more time with her friend.

Joy said that she and Lee were going to discuss how to proceed, but she ultimately decided that she would stay at home and refused chemo and radiation. She agreed to take pain medication, but only enough to make the pain bearable. She wanted to be alert and functioning until the end.

Joy's first rule was that no teary people were allowed to come and visit. That eliminated a lot of friends, because most of them broke down and cried. Of course, she had to limit visitors because she got tired easily, too. Hospice (or Hosparus, as it is now called in Louisville) came to provide care to Joy and to help Lee. Lee considered it an honor to be Joy's main caregiver, and he made sure that Joy got everything she wanted. No caregiver ever did a better job than Lee did for Joy!

Lee and Joy had no family in Louisville. Hosparus was a great help, but there were times when their volunteers weren't available and Lee had to run errands. Lonnie and Roberta cleared their calendars and made themselves available any time day or night if Lee needed someone to sit with Joy. It wasn't a noble gesture or sacrifice on their part. They saw it as a second chance to pay all those visits they had meant to have but had put off until another time. Now time was running out.

The first time Lee called, Roberta was happy to go over, but she knew if she wanted time with Joy, she would have to do things Joy's way. As she walked across the street, she kept telling herself that she could not cry! She thought that being with her dying friend would be so sad and heartbreaking that she would have to go home and bawl her eyes out. But Roberta was wrong.

This visit and the ones to follow turned out to be the most uplifting times of Roberta's life. Lonnie felt the same about the times he went to spend time with Joy. Amazingly, these visits felt completely natural. The friends talked and laughed and remembered things they had shared.

Even though she had no need to economize, Joy still clipped coupons and sent Lee to get dinner for themselves and Lonnie and Roberta. She had her hairdresser and her manicurist come to the house and fix her hair and nails, and she sent Lee shopping for makeup.

She looked so healthy that at one point Roberta said, “Joy, you look so good—do you think they could have made a mistake?”

She said, “No, Roberta. It's going to happen.”

Joy was never in denial and sometimes wanted to talk about her cancer. These talks, however, were never morbid. Once Joy wondered aloud what the cancer was doing inside of her.

“Can you feel it?” Roberta asked.

“No,” said Joy. “I don't feel anything.”

She never asked that her life be extended for her own sake. And when her predicted time to die came in December, she felt fine.

Joy said to Roberta, “I hope I can live long enough to show Lee how to do the taxes.”

She read, made lists of favorite things and places, and gave Lee cooking lessons. She and Lee watched the documentaries they had made and relived the wonderful moments of their life together. Joy said she'd had a wonderful life, that she had seen most of the world, and that she had no regrets.

As Christmas approached Joy sent out special Christmas cards with a picture of Lee and her taken the year before at Death Valley. People had to smile at her sense of humor. Christmas came and went, and December ended. Her two months were up, but Joy was very much alive!

In January, Joy invited six of her and Lee's closest friends (Ben and Sonia, Tami and Andy, and Roberta and Lonnie) to celebrate their forty-ninth wedding anniversary. By then, Joy was getting tired easily, so she put a possible time limit on the visit. It was a happy occasion, with no shadow of death spoiling the party.

On Valentine's Day, she had the same six people over. She loved planning these get-togethers, and she saw to it that everybody had a great choice of Valentine desserts to eat.

On Lonnie's birthday on February 28, Joy again invited the same six people to a party. Her rules this time were that the men had to wear suits and the women had to wear dresses. Joy wore a party dress and jewelry and looked better than anybody! It was a birthday Lonnie will never forget.

Joy was doing so well that she began to plan a St. Patrick's Day party for March 17. All these celebrations were held with the understanding that the guests would leave if Joy got tired.

Joy had always eaten healthy foods, but she suddenly surprised everybody by beginning to crave fast food, like Quarter Pounders, or sausage, biscuits, gravy, and eggs.

Since Lee couldn't leave Joy alone to go to the fast food restaurants, Lonnie happily became her banker and delivery man. Joy gave Lonnie money to keep so he could go get her whatever she wanted whenever she called. Joy would gobble the food and say, “Lonnie, this stuff won't hurt you, especially if you're dying anyway!”