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Old 05-16-2020, 03:45 AM
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A bad, bad, bad headcase, (A scary tallish tale)


When we bought this land 20+ years ago. There was just nothing here. No homes, No people, No neighbors. No utilities, at all. Even by rural standards we are WAY out.

Exploring and deciding what we would do here we found an old log cabin on the place. Oh, sez Big Wrek I'll make a deer camp here.
This little cabin was in great disrepair, but I loved it. It had character and good bones. My Daddy's youngest brother is a contractor. I had him come look at it. He said I was crazy but it could be fixed up. It wasn't gonna tumble down any minute. He wouldn't take it on but he knew folks who would.

From that little seed ol'Beck grew a big tree.
Mr.Wrekker was skeptical but said go ahead.
I had BIG plans. I'm building a new log cabin around the old one. To live in. Heck with a deer camp.

And so, the story goes on and were deep in restoration and adding new construction. Electric poles were bought and set. The Elec.Co-op wasn't gonna allow us to be completely off-grid like I wanted.
Water wells were dug. Took 2 to get one good one.
I learned really quick the guy I had hired as contractor hated me. I wasn't terrible to him, but looking back I was in his hair alot. Like everyday. I wasnt fixin' to let this house go up w/o input. The only way I knew to do that was to be here before mistakes were made and get someone, namely Bill the contractor, on it. He REALLY hated me before the build and restoration were done. I think he may have had a 'hit' out on me for awhile.

I did all the purchasing for the build. Bill hated that too. It my running around getting what was needed I started hearing tales about these woods. The little old cabin was, it seems kinda famous in these parts.
It was known as a place where a family of people with the last name French had gambling and carousing every weekend. Old man 'Frenchy' was a notorious moonshiner. And generally in a pickle with the law. I've thought about it alot, (there's no proof of all this) it must've been in the 1920s - 30s.
He was killed somewhere on the land. We don't know where exactly. But he was killed by his irate wife when she caught him out here with another woman. We've never found out how he was killed.

But, the more interesting story is about Frenchys widowed Mother and his imbecile sister who lived in this very cabin I was spending the big $$$ to restore.
Mother and daughter lived here alone. No men. Frenchy came and went.
Well, he comes out here on the behest of some town folk who usually gave his Ma rides for eggs and and produce. Apparently she hadn't been seen in a few weeks. So he comes out to find his handicapped sister alone, nearly starved. He cannot make out what has happened to his Ma. The sister can barely speak. The county took his sister to a home for adults with her disorders. She rarely spoke. No one knew what happened.

A few weeks later Frenchy was on the place and an old dog comes up. Obviously a stray the dog follows him around as he did chores and such. He's looking for something he could use to fix the backdoor when the dog comes up with a bone in his mouth. Frenchy looks closer the bone looks odd, he takes it away from dog and throws it down quick. It's a human foot bone. He follows the dog and finds a cache of human bones some skin and hair still attached to bits and pieces. He's mortified. He knows it his Ma.

He gets to the sheriff. They come out and gather all they could find of the old woman. There's no way to tell how she died in those days. Speculation is the daughter may have pushed her down or hit her hard enough to kill her. And animal predation had dismembered her.
The girl had anger issues as well as mental deficiency.
The weird thing is they never found the old lady's head.

Now bump ahead to the early 2000s and ol'Beck owns this place. The 'icky' factor is all consuming. I have children that don't need to hear this. We'll never have a peaceful nights sleep if they do. Not to mention Mr.Wrekker works out of state for most of his career. I'll be here alone with kids, alot.
Early days I'm seeing and hearing ghosts and spooks everywhere. Strange goings on at night. I cannot even look out a window after dark. I walk the floors at night. Watching and waiting for who knows what?

Somehow I get through the early months and nothing ever really happens. I'm calmer and less afraid. I've gotten busy with kids in school and all their things they do. I have a toddler running around. No time to be freaked out, anymore.

Or so I think.....

More at another time....
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Old 05-16-2020, 05:36 AM
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Excellent tale! I love to hear your stories! Please don't stop sharing them!
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Old 05-16-2020, 02:14 PM
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Way cool, places with a history are they absolute bestest =)

A guy I dated for a while had a mom [like we all do now shush] and she was living on a small farm next to Dillwyn Penitentiary in Virginia [when they did executions or there were riots a sherrif or two used to come lurk on their porch, you could pretty much toss a baseball and hit the penn from their place] Back in the day, it was variously a posting station, a post office, a general store, a tavern and a farm. It was one of those built by stick a room here and turn that porch over there into a kitchen so nothing was quite square or level and they swore up and down it was haunted [no, given the accent she had, hainted =) ]
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Old 05-16-2020, 02:21 PM
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There are lots of defense methods to help you out. Unfortunately I am not up to date on these--but surely other Dopers are. For example garlic to ward off evil spirits, silver bullets to kill werewolfs...
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Old 05-16-2020, 04:23 PM
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Way cool, places with a history are they absolute bestest =)

A guy I dated for a while had a mom [like we all do now shush] and she was living on a small farm next to Dillwyn Penitentiary in Virginia [when they did executions or there were riots a sherrif or two used to come lurk on their porch, you could pretty much toss a baseball and hit the penn from their place] Back in the day, it was variously a posting station, a post office, a general store, a tavern and a farm. It was one of those built by stick a room here and turn that porch over there into a kitchen so nothing was quite square or level and they swore up and down it was haunted [no, given the accent she had, hainted =) ]
Yes, 'hainted' is the terminology used around here. The ghost here are known as 'Frenchiville Haints'
They're are several, I'm told.
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Old 05-16-2020, 05:14 PM
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The weird thing is they never found the old lady's head
Somebody went bowling with it?
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Old 05-16-2020, 05:32 PM
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I think Granny has been hittin' The Shine.
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Old 05-16-2020, 05:39 PM
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I guess you don't wanna hear the rest of the story, then.
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Old 05-16-2020, 05:51 PM
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Beck, wait, there's more?
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Last edited by dogbutler; 05-16-2020 at 05:52 PM. Reason: 502
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Old 05-16-2020, 07:43 PM
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More at another time????

You do realize it's another time already, right Beck? Making us wait is a bad, bad, bad, bad thing.
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Old 05-16-2020, 09:03 PM
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More at another time????

You do realize it's another time already, right Beck? Making us wait is a bad, bad, bad, bad thing.
Dunno what another time means in the Arkansas backwoods, but in the East Tennessee hills where I'm from it means "whenever I'm good and ready." Sort of like when I'm fixin' to do something.
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Old 05-17-2020, 03:29 AM
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Back to the story:

Set the scene:
A few years into living here.
It's autumn. Crispy air. Crunchy leaves on the ground.
Every fall I try to at least rake where the kids play. I like my grass and leaf litter tends to choke it out.
You gotta know, this is tree country. Pines, pinoaks, white oaks, my nut trees. All producing masses of leaves.

The kids like this time of year. Pop is home because it's close to hunting season.
A great family time of the year.

One afternoon Pop took the kids to get pumpkins from a friend of his farm.
I stayed home and am raking. I have several piles. I decide to consolidate 2 big piles into one. I'm sweeping the rake in big swings.
Something flew off my rake. It went into the other pile. Thinking its part of a toy or something the kids lost I walk over to get it. I rake the pile out and there it is by my feet.

It can't be what I think it is. I look closer. I bend down. It is.
Holy crap. I'm not gonna touch it. The kids sandbox was close to me I ran over and got an old coolwhip container. I scoop it up.

It's really old. Parts are missing. But it's definatly an Upper Denture. A couple of the teeth parts are broken. Giving it a sinister appearance.
It's small. A woman's, I think.

Well, now all the Frenchy tales come flooding back. My head is spinning.
I swear it got darker and colder. The sky looked like blood.
I dropped the rake and take my coolwhip container and go to the house. I'm not taking this in the house. I go through the garage and set it on top of an old fridge we had in there.
I go in. Take off my jacket. I immediately heard scratching at the door. Oh, god I nearly fainted. I had left my dog outside.

I'm horrified. I just can't imagine how dentures got in my leaves.
When Mr.Wrekker and the kids get home, we look over their pumpkins. Eat supper.
Evening baths for the kids and bedtime.

When the kids are asleep I get the coolwhip bowl and show the denture to Mr.Wrekker.

We don't know what to do.

Mr.Wrekker decides to go see his friend an older guy who used to be a game warden. He can't go til the next day.

I put bowl and creepy denture, with a sinister smile in a gallon Ziploc bag and take it back out to the garage.

Put it to bed, I guess.

Well, I didn't sleep that night. All the way back to floor walking. Afraid to look out windows in the dark.


More later.....
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Old 05-17-2020, 08:08 AM
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Quote:
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Back to the story:

Set the scene:
A few years into living here.
It's autumn. Crispy air. Crunchy leaves on the ground.
Every fall I try to at least rake where the kids play. I like my grass and leaf litter tends to choke it out.
You gotta know, this is tree country. Pines, pinoaks, white oaks, my nut trees. All producing masses of leaves.

The kids like this time of year. Pop is home because it's close to hunting season.
A great family time of the year.

One afternoon Pop took the kids to get pumpkins from a friend of his farm.
I stayed home and am raking. I have several piles. I decide to consolidate 2 big piles into one. I'm sweeping the rake in big swings.
Something flew off my rake. It went into the other pile. Thinking its part of a toy or something the kids lost I walk over to get it. I rake the pile out and there it is by my feet.

It can't be what I think it is. I look closer. I bend down. It is.
Holy crap. I'm not gonna touch it. The kids sandbox was close to me I ran over and got an old coolwhip container. I scoop it up.

It's really old. Parts are missing. But it's definatly an Upper Denture. A couple of the teeth parts are broken. Giving it a sinister appearance.
It's small. A woman's, I think.

Well, now all the Frenchy tales come flooding back. My head is spinning.
I swear it got darker and colder. The sky looked like blood.
I dropped the rake and take my coolwhip container and go to the house. I'm not taking this in the house. I go through the garage and set it on top of an old fridge we had in there.
I go in. Take off my jacket. I immediately heard scratching at the door. Oh, god I nearly fainted. I had left my dog outside.

I'm horrified. I just can't imagine how dentures got in my leaves.
When Mr.Wrekker and the kids get home, we look over their pumpkins. Eat supper.
Evening baths for the kids and bedtime.

When the kids are asleep I get the coolwhip bowl and show the denture to Mr.Wrekker.

We don't know what to do.

Mr.Wrekker decides to go see his friend an older guy who used to be a game warden. He can't go til the next day.

I put bowl and creepy denture, with a sinister smile in a gallon Ziploc bag and take it back out to the garage.

Put it to bed, I guess.

Well, I didn't sleep that night. All the way back to floor walking. Afraid to look out windows in the dark.


More later.....
Wondering if its gonna be ... nah, I'll wait.
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Old 05-17-2020, 10:52 AM
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I can't believe I wrote that and 3:30am
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Old 05-17-2020, 06:51 PM
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Mr.Wrekker did go see his friend, the retired game warden. The two of them decide it's time to call the Sheriffs office.

Oh, goody. I have to answer questions and show them exactly where I found it.
Right close to where I found it there a little old fashion concrete and a large rock 'thingy' embedded in the ground. Obviously man-made. We had thought of digging it up and out. I felt like it was a marker for a pet grave. So, I planted a holly bush right next to it and saved it.
The Sheriff noted it in his report.
I'm thinking, they're gonna want to dig it up and leave a big hole in my yard. God, I hope not.
The deputies search around and nothing else is found. They tell me to keep my eyes open for anything and save it. Okay.

Later that night, not being able to sleep, I'm downstairs reading. I hear jingling. My little dog comes down stairs and goes to the French doors and looks out and growls. I believe she needs to go out to pee. The growling is odd, though.

I get up to let her out. She won't go outside.
Okay, this is weird. I walk out on the deck and call her. She comes out and growls more, looking out at the yard. I look where she looking.
What the crap? I see a misty white 'cloud' or something. Hanging right over the old original/capped well. This is very close to the kids sandbox. And the grave marker thing.
I rubbed my eyes and look again. My dog is growling in a continuous loop. I call her to me. The 'cloud' dissipates. And. It's gone.

I'm not telling this to anyone. In fact this is the very first time I've ever typed it.

Now, you may ascertain I was 'seeing' things. I convinced myself to 'see' ghostly apparitions. Well, yeah. Thats one explanation.

Later that week I convinced Mr.Wrekker I need a metal detector. This was a gambling establishment. He says they were gambling with pennies. I'll not get rich metal detecting. I don't care, I want one anyway.

I know the first place I'm gonna 'detect' in.

All for now.....
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Old 05-17-2020, 08:07 PM
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I'd say this was a terrible tease, but what it is is an effective tease. I will wait patiently for the next chapter.
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Old 05-17-2020, 10:13 PM
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To quote Tom Lehrer: "More, more, I'm still not satisfied."
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Old 05-17-2020, 10:36 PM
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I get my metal detector. It's not a really nice one. Middle of the road basic model.
I immediately start finding coins all around the old well. As Mr.Wrekker said it was mostly pennies.
I found a very damaged silver dollar. Lots of nails. A few buttons, one CSA uniform button. Digging around I find lots of ceramic and stoneware fragments.
I decide I'm in a trash deposit place. There's pieces of a old rusty barrel that just flummoxed my metal detecting. Most likely burning barrels.

I continue to see the whitish mist, in the cooler months. It has really has no explanation. I still never told anyone. I didn't want the children afraid.
I had Mr.Wrekker move the sand box. I began worrying about the old well and them playing so close to it.
In my searching around I found buckets of bones. Never any that made me think human.

In the warmer months out around the old well I got odors. Mostly a rotten egg smell. This bothered me. I did tell Mr.Wrekker about that. He wasn't convinced I was smelling it as much as I did.
So I shut up about it and kept searching and digging.


Later...
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Old 05-17-2020, 11:42 PM
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Keep in mind it has been at least 80years since Frenchy was romping in these parts.
And his Mom's head was never found. According to rumor.
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Old 05-18-2020, 03:14 PM
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Haint blue, you should have this painted on door and window frames, porch ceilings too. Otherwise you have the welcome mat out for any and all haints.
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Old 05-18-2020, 05:46 PM
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I know about 'haint blue' paint. My porch ceiling is painted blue.
No mirrors in the front room.
I burn sage regular like.

I would have lots of garlic but the deer ate it all. Damned Italian deer!!

()
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Old 05-18-2020, 05:57 PM
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I know about 'haint blue' paint. My porch ceiling is painted blue.
No mirrors in the front room.
I burn sage regular like.

I would have lots of garlic but the deer ate it all. Damned Italian deer!!

()
I remember the first time we rolled past Gilroy California - it was about 730 in the morning, and the sun was warming up the ground and it smelled all garlicy ... I had the worst craving for pizza!


Isn't the American indiginous 'sage' for smudging not the same as culinary sage? Does culinary sage scare off spirits as well as sagebrush?
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Old 05-18-2020, 07:22 PM
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I order sage brush that's tied up in neat little bundles. You light it and it smokes like crazy.
My understanding it you need to walk counter clockwise from corner to corner in each room.
The old part of my house (the original cabin) needs it at least 4 times a year.

I've never sprinkled sage, the spice around. I do have sage incense I burn occasionally.
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Old 05-18-2020, 07:54 PM
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Back to my tale:

We had a root grow into a pipe that carried grey water out to the perc field. Mr.Wrekker was out of state so I had to call Mr. Otis an old plumber. He dug around and finally got to the right spot and decided he would need a ditch-witch and would come back the next day. We walk up the yard close to the old well. And he smelled the rotten egg smell. He says 'Oh, Ms. Wrek that's not a water well, it may be an old septic tank or a natural gas well."
Oh, really. Well I'll be danged.

This is oil well country. There are 100s of capped wells in the woods. They've not produced in years.
It was not good oil to begin with. When the wells were being tapped natural gas was considered a waste product. If the gas started coming up the well would be capped off and they would schooch over and drill a new one. Think small holes going as deep as the geological guys told them.
I think my white mist has just been explained. It was Swamp gas!
I want this old well or septic tank moved. Dug out. I want it gone.
It's just too close to my house for my comfort.

When Mr.Wrekker comes home I press him about it.
I can't live around stinky, eerie Swamp gas emanating from this long buried thing.
I insist. Mr.Wrekker is not happy, but he agrees.

Next chapter: "The old well is opened."
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Old 05-18-2020, 08:55 PM
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I do hope the house is at a higher elevation than this uncapped pipe. The idea that the babies' sandbox was practically on top of it is horrifying!

Natural gas is a big thing now. Don't be surprised if you have geologists swarming the area, looking for those pockets!

Do you own mineral rights to the land?

We won't even talk about fracking! acckkkk!


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Old 05-18-2020, 09:05 PM
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We do own the mineral rights.

A company came out and offered all kinda crap. We let them do their tests.

Alas, I will not be singing "Ol'Beck's a millionaire"

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Old 05-18-2020, 09:16 PM
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How do you get the Siamezers inside the hellmouth you call home?
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Old 05-18-2020, 09:43 PM
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The Siamese cats are surprisingly okay with it. The old part is eerie. I never go in there after dark. The cats like it.

Don't y'all all wanna come to a Dopefest here? We could make a pool and pay out to any one who can stay all night in the old part.
Sounds fun don't it?

'Hellmouth'--I like it. New name for Wrek Estates.
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Old 05-18-2020, 11:51 PM
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I'll be the first to sign up!

Mr VOW joined a prospecting club years ago. He's had several metal detectors through the ages, and they are good, dirty fun. A prospector with a metal detector has a knee guard on one knee, and a disreputable digging tool in the hand not holding the detector.

The gizmo beeps, the prospector takes a knee and digs. Coins are always good. Bullets make conversation pieces. Unfortunately, most beeps are for LEAVERITE, as in "leave 'er right there." Bobby pins, paperclips, guts to ballpoint pens, and the ever popular pull tab!


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Old 05-19-2020, 06:26 PM
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No "bobby-dazzlers'?

I'm thinking of digging out the old metal detector. The kids might like that.
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Old 05-19-2020, 06:45 PM
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Just tell them you are looking for "Pirate Buried Treasure!"


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Old 05-19-2020, 06:49 PM
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Do you still have the old dentures? Where does one keep decrepit dentures one has found in one's leaf pile?
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Old 05-19-2020, 06:56 PM
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Nellie, the Sheriff took them for evidence.
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Old 05-20-2020, 02:35 AM
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Mr.Wrekker decides the old well will be dispatched in the fall. He has access to heavy equipment(remember the fish farm debacle, he rented the equipment for that).
He wants to be done before deer season starts so he hops 'to' one cool fall day in early October.
He has a coupla guys lined up to help him.
I implore him not to disturb the stone pet grave marker and my holly bush. He makes no promises. I told him to at least give me a heads up, I'd like to try and save the holly and transplant it.

The back-hoe breaks the ground and a mere 5ft down he hits pipe. Lots of rusty pipe. Mostly corroded and falling in pieces. It was definatly oil well pipe. The smell from that open ground is awful.
I'm convinced we live in a place that should be designated a federally funded clean up site or at least condemned for human habitation. But, yet Ol'beck has built a stupid home here. Another example of my notorious bad luck.

After the first day of digging Mr.Wrekker says the holly bush needs to be transplanted the next morning. He has all the pipe dug out. He was gonna move over and see what's under that marker. I'm thinking best to get it all over in one dig. And my troubles will be over.

We have a mess of pipe and nasty dirt that has to disposed of. My plan to get this away from my house might have been a bit over-ambitious.
Might have been safer not to disturb my personal nuclear() waste dumping site.

More tomorrow....stay tuned.
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Last edited by Beckdawrek; 05-20-2020 at 02:35 AM.
  #35  
Old 05-20-2020, 03:06 PM
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Keep in mind, the old lady's head is still AWOL.

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Old 05-20-2020, 04:13 PM
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Am I going to need to sleep with a nightlight after the last chapter? I scare easily.
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Old 05-20-2020, 06:35 PM
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I'll give you a 'trigger warning' nellie.
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Old 05-21-2020, 02:46 AM
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****TRIGGER ALERT****

This is the part where you close your eyes and cover your ears, if you scare easily. Forewarned is Forearmed. I always say!




That next day I was up and out early to save my Holly bush. I transplanted it into a half barrel. I thought it might live a long time in that barrel as it had a small root ball. (I was right, it still lives in the barrel)

Mr.Wrekker aimed underneath the stone/rock marker and pulled it up. A bunch of rooty/stringy matter came up with it. That thing had been in the ground a long time. Only 1/4 of it was above ground. It was about 4 feet long. Mainly heavy aggregated hand mixed concrete and one large natural stone. Someone intended this to stay in the ground.
Mr.W took another scoop and dropped in on the ground. He stopped the back hoe and got down to look in the hole so I went to poking around in the dirt he just dropped. I had my metal detector. It was bleeping like crazy. Lots of old rusty metal pieces.
Another burn barrel. What? Under the rock thingy? That doesn't make sense.

Mr.Wrekker calls us over and we look down in the hole. Holy crap it smelled awful. Lots of metal bits and wood pieces that looked burned black.

Oh, shit. We've uncovered what was probably the sight of a long ago Out-house .

We sent one of the guys for a bag of garden lime we had in the barn.
Mr.Wrekker thinks he's seen enough. He has several yards of dirt from his pond excavating. The lime goes in and it's filled in with new dirt. He even replaced the stone marker.
The old innards of the out-house was intriguing. I got a hoe and dug around in it. Knowing full well it was long ago poop matter.
There were several hard pieces I pulled over to the side.
Mr.W was rushing to get the stinky dirt away from there so I quit poking. He went to scooping it up into his trailer. I got my hard pieces over to where I could reach them with the water house.

I was spraying them with water and I could tell it was whitish in color. It was 3 pieces.

Oh, lord. It was bone. I stopped spraying. And waved at Mr.Wrekker and the guys to come see.

I guess you know what I found. Yep. Old Lady French's head in three pieces. We were standing there looking down on this poor woman's head. No teeth. I swear it looked like hair was still on it. We decided that might be some kinda of plant material, tho'.
I tried to be respectful and solemn. But, I had the giggles.
I don't know if I was so freaked out and the laughing was a relief valve? I just don't know.

Mr.Wrekker got the Sheriff out here.
I'm not laughing anymore. Had to answer a mountain of questions. It seems it's real serious business when you find a human skull in an old 'crapper' in your back yard.

The consensus was: Frenchy, the not so law abiding Son, found his dead Mothers head. To keep prying eyes away from his moonshining operation (and maybe to protect his imbecile Sister) he threw Ma down the hole in the out-house. Tore apart the wooden structure and threw it down as well and any thing else he could find.

Then he made his stone/concrete marker. A way to honor his Mother, I guess.

The same woman his Sister most likely killed. The same woman animals had dismembered and eaten.
The same woman who gave birth to these 2 lovely children.

We can only hope our own children honor us in such a way.

Head in the 'crapper'

THE END.
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Old 05-21-2020, 07:58 AM
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If not for the fact that it would have given everything away, "Head in the Crapper" would have been a great thread title.
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Old 05-21-2020, 08:00 AM
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He was a kind, considerate son. He put up a marker!

He should have written something on the marker, though.

"Here, I sit, brokenhearted..."


~VOW
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Old 05-21-2020, 09:02 AM
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"Gone but not forgotten"


I've used that phrase, occasionally, in the restroom.
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Old 05-21-2020, 09:32 AM
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Quote:
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He was a kind, considerate son. He put up a marker!

He should have written something on the marker, though.

"Here, I sit, brokenhearted..."


~VOW
"...Mom's head's in the crapper,
from her body it's parted."
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Old 05-21-2020, 10:36 AM
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Quote:
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"...Mom's head's in the crapper,
from her body it's parted."

The P in P-man stands for poet, right?


~VOW
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Old 05-21-2020, 10:53 AM
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The P in P-man stands for poet, right?


~VOW
It stands for whatever folks want it to stand for; that can change from day to day.
  #45  
Old 05-21-2020, 11:21 AM
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Here I sit, brokenhearted

...Moms head's in the crapper
From her body it's been parted

In fear the Law would map her,
I tore down the house of Privy
....
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Old 05-21-2020, 05:08 PM
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Here I sit, brokenhearted
Mom's head from her body is parted.
I put it down the crapper hole
God have mercy on her soul.

Will the law come after me?
Quick, tear down the old privy!
Never more will Mom be found
Til Beckdawrek's nosing around.


Great story, Beck! Creepy and poetically inspiring!

Last edited by gkster; 05-21-2020 at 05:10 PM.
  #47  
Old 05-21-2020, 05:35 PM
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Old 05-21-2020, 07:51 PM
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I hope you realize this means that you are never going to get me to step foot on your land. I don't have no truck with dead folk. Well, not the wet ones.
  #49  
Old 05-21-2020, 07:54 PM
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Oh, Dropzone, ol'Ma French is not there anymore. I promise.
The Sheriff took her head away.
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Old 05-21-2020, 09:17 PM
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Oh, Dropzone, ol'Ma French is not there anymore. I promise.
The Sheriff took her head away.
What did he do with it? That sounds like a great artifact for the county courthouse.
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