Some of the most superstitious people in America reside in the Ozark Mountains. One doesn’t have to spend much time in the region before hearing an “old wives’ tale” or some other local folk story. I once worked with a woman who started many conversations with, “The old people say . . .” Now I wish I’d logged some of her stories.
I lived in Los Angeles until age 9, but my brothers and I spent many summers in the backwoods hills of Missouri. At the end of my fourth-grade year, our family moved to Arkansas. Nearly 50 years have passed since that summer, but I’m still sometimes considered an outsider.
Ozark locals, often referred to as “Hillbillies,” are wary of outsiders. Yes, they’re some of the most hospitable people in the country, but they are known for being standoffish to those who aren’t one of their own.
For instance, I lived in Tennessee for a time. A good friend of mine was from Minnesota. She’d heard Arkansas had some beautiful camping areas and planned a weekend getaway. I cautioned her that some of the Old Timers didn’t take lightly to “Yankees” coming around and suggested she borrow my car since it had Tennessee plates.
She scoffed at my advice. “You can’t be serious.”
When she returned, she shared what happened when she stopped to ask directions. (This was in the days long before cell phones and Google Maps, not that either of those work even today in some areas of the Ozarks.)
After spending some time attempting to locate her desired camping area, my friend resigned to the fact she was lost. She saw a run-down store. An old man sat outside on a bench leaned against the storefront, whitling. She described him as a stereotypical hillbilly – overalls and all. (I figure he was probably sporting a John Deere cap and gnawing on a wad of Levi Garrett, too.)
My friend told the man where she wanted to go. She asked if he knew of the place and could he please give her directions.
“He never looked up, but he mumbled a long list of turns and landmarks,” she told me.
Returning to her car, she wrote down his instructions so she wouldn’t forget and followed them precisely. Well over an hour later, she found herself back in front of the same store with the same old man. She jumped out of the car and ran toward him, furious at his prank of sending her in a (rather large) circle.
At that point he looked her in the eye. “Okay, Miss Yankee,” he said. “Now that I know you can follow directions, I’ll tell you how to get where you want to go.”
Yeah, that’s how it is sometimes in the Ozarks. A land rich in natural resources, history, superstitions, and suspicions. I hope you enjoy spending some time in the culture of the Ozark Mountains when my Work in Progress, Forgotten Treasure: Book One of the Ozark Treasures Series, is finished.
I’ll be sharing a bit more about the Ozarks, their scenery, culture, history, superstitions, folk lore, and treasures on this blog while I’m writing this book. Be sure to sign up to receive free email updates about future blog posts so you don’t miss anything. You can find a subscription form in the lower right area of this site.
Candace West Posey says
My people come from the Ozarks. I went to a family reunion up there, and some of my relatives were complaining about all the “furiners” moving into the area. They were talking about people from other parts of the state!
Linda Fulkerson says
LOL!