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From netcom.com!brianbet Thu Sep 8 00:12:40 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.folklore.ghost-stories:6819 Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories Path: netcom.com!brianbet From: brianbet@netcom.com (Brian Bethel) Subject: A local Tale o' Terror Message-ID:Organization: Netcom Online Communications Services (408-241-9760 login: guest) Date: Thu, 8 Sep 1994 03:59:55 GMT Lines: 235 Hey ho, fellow alt.folklore.ghost-story maniacs! Here's a tale to chill the blood and make you feel just a little less safe there in the dark -- or wherever you get your fright fix. This is the complete text of an article I wrote for the Stephenville Empire-Tribune (located in bee-you-tiful Stephenville, Texas). The story is one of the most popular legends hereabouts, and is reproduced in full for your reading pleasure. The article was written to fill a portion of our 250-page "Horizons" special section. The article itself appeared in a portion titled -- appropriately enough -- "Secrets." Enjoy. :) THE GHOST OF THE MCDOW HOLE By BRIAN BETHEL The Empire-Tribune We're going to take a trip. Not a long journey, but hopefully an interesting one. We're not going to any far-off place, really. In fact itŐs right here. Close at hand. You could even go there yourself. But somehow, this is ... safer. Turn down the lights. It'll help. Don't strain your eyes, though. Imagine stars. Cold, twinkling points of light overhead. Eternal. Blue-white. Imagine how cold they seem, thrust into an ebony sky. Feel the night air as it caresses your cheek. Now pan down. See the campfire? Nice and warm isn't it? A burning shield against the dark. Our little circle of protection against -- well, whatever's out there. Gather 'round. Plenty of room here. We're going to tell you a ghost story. Not scared, are you? Good. Let's begin. +++++++ The frontier cabin where she met her fate is long gone, but perhaps ... something of Jenny Papworth still remains at the old McDow Ghost Hole about two miles south of Harbin, Texas. She was a pretty girl, supposedly. No raving beauty to be sure, but the frontier life suited her well, and she was the sum total of Charlie Papworth's world. She and Charlie, along with her oldest son, Temple, had undertaken the difficult trek from Georgia to what would become Erath County in the 1870s. Charlie had made the journey earlier, and Jenny and her son followed shortly thereafter. They settled on a stretch of land near Green's Creek, next to a wide meadow and near the McDow watering hole. Their neighbors, the McDows and Keiths, came to help build their cabin, and at least for a time all was calm. Jenny had a another baby, and the four of them lived happily together. Then Charlie received a letter and had to go away. Both of his parents had died, and he had inherited much of their property, He decided the best thing for Jenny would be to have her stay with one of their two friendly neighbors during the evenings. He f elt she would be safe enough during the day, but he feared the growing outlaw bands to the east. Charlie thought his plan was foolproof. After all, the railroad was a growing thing, and enough track had been laid to make the journey back to Georgia much easier than their original overland trek. He'd be back before she even knew it. Thus, Jenny spent each day at the cabin, then she, the baby and Temple would spend the night at the Keith's or McDow's. This continued for several nights, until one evening -- when she did not show up at either home. Both families initially thought she had gone to stay with the other. But when morning came Jenny was nowhere to be found. Nowhere at all. The families frantically began a search. They went to the cabin and found it apparently deserted. Blood was on the floor. A thorough search found young Temple, weeping incoherently, under the rawhide bed in the room. The search spread out far and wide. Comanche Indians were accused, but the suspected tribe, which lived near the site of the present-day city of Coleman,Texas, was later found to be friendly. Many of the Indians knew Charlie and Jenny Papworth. They were upset to hear she had vanished. So, inevitably, suspicion fell on the man who insisted so strongly that the Comanches were to blame, a man suspected of outlaw dealings himself. Legend names him W. P. Brownlow. Charlie returned and Brownlow became a certain target. Faced with doom at the end of Papworth's rifle, he began what can only be called a smear campaign. Papworth and Jenny had prospered in the two years they had remained in the territory. How? Brownlow asserted it was because Charlie was a rustler. Surprisingly, some people began to believe him. The outcome was inevitable. After witnessing the abduction and death of his mother, Temple woke again to see a horde of masked men coming for his father. Along with six other men, he was hanged on a tree near the McDow Hole. Temple bravely climbed the tree and cut down the men. Six death had already claimed, but Charlie Papworth was miraculously alive. They rode off together, away from the horrors they had known. But Jenny, Charlie's beloved, remained. The first to see her were members of the Keith family. A drought had gripped the land, and the McDow was one of the last bastions of good water left in the area. Three nights Bill Keith and his 13-year-old son attempted to stay in the cabin, and three nights Jenny visited them, each apparition more horrible than the last. On the first night, someone was at the door. It was Jenny, holding her baby. As Keith and his son looked on in terror, she vanished without a sound. "A dream," Keith told himself the next morning. He was determined to stay. The next evening Jenny appeared again, gliding through the walls of the cabin. Still, Keith thought it was all only a dream. And then, on the third night, he knew the visions shared by him and his son had been no dream. She was there at the door again, so real he could have reached out and touched her. He asked if it was truly her, if she was really alive and had escaped from whatever fate had held her. She screamed. The terrible sound reverberated through the twilight, and then Jenny was gone. Only the night remained, cold and unforgiving. Thereafter, Keith avoided the Papworth cabin at all costs. After that, Jenny's shade was reported ranging all over the Erath County countryside. She would appear holding her baby on nearby railroad tracks. The engineer would hurriedly throw the brakes, bringing the thundering locomotive to a stop -- usually too late. Yet, when the panic-stricken crew would leap out to examine the tracks, there was never any trace of Jenny or her infant child. Tales of Jenny's hauntings continued. Many thought she was looking for her killer. Others said she wanted to lead someone to her bones. Perhaps, though, Jenny got her revenge on her murderer and her husband's would-be killer. Brownlow had moved far east along the county and lived a secluded existence. Word came that he was sick, that he had a disease no doctor could cure. On his deathbed, Brownlow is said to have confessed to the murder of Jenny Papworth. She had seen him talking to known cattle rustlers, and he had to kill her. Just before he confessed, Brownlow supposedly writhed under the influence of a terrible dream, screaming "Don't let her touch me!" and "The blood!" over and over again. After his confession, Brownlow gave up the ghost himself. Most believe it was also Brownlow who led the masked men who tried to hang Charlie Papworth. Brownlow wasn't the only casualty of Jenny's wrath, though. A Pennsylvanian coffin-maker had moved into the territory. He was supposedly a talented fiddle player, and his music could be heard easily. Then for several days his fiddle fell silent. Finally, neighbors came to visit the cabin. They found the coffin-maker on the floor, his face drawn into a rictus of fear and dread. The coffin-maker was suddenly in need of a coffin himself. Another time, a group of robbers visited the cabin. They suffered the same fate, their fright-contorted faces the only testament to whatever ghastly events had transpired. Far and wide, stories of Jenny spread. One legend says Green's Creek changed course and some human bones were found in an old well. Popular opinion holds that these were the mortal remains of Jenny and her baby, but the validity of the story is quest ionable. Even today, though, stories are still told about the McDow Hole Ghost. In fact, so many stories have been told the legend has even attracted "professionals." Mary Joe Clendenin, a local author, says her father, Joe Fitzgerald, told her the story of Jenny many years ago when she was a young girl. It is from her father's account that many of the "Jenny" stories spring. Among the many souls who have attempted to lay Jenny's spirit to rest included a traveling medium who came to the area in the 1950s, she said. The medium said he intended to free Jenny's wandering shade. Clendenin said she wasn't certain he did. "He stopped at our house to ask directions to the McDow Hole," she said. "He claimed he was planning to lay Jenny's spirit to rest. We never saw him after that, so I don't know if he was successful." Wes Miller of Morgan Mill said he had fished, swam and worked the land around the McDow Hole all of his life, ever since 1927. Often, his mules would become skittish around the watering hole, and he felt a presence around the hole itself. Once, when he was a young boy, he came there to swim one day. A chill suddenly filled the watering hole. Miller and several of his young companions built a fire, but it scattered and went out quickly. "What would cause a cold like that and a fire to go out so suddenly?" he asked. "I don't know. I've had a lot of time to think about that incident, though." Miller said he felt more-or-less accepted by whatever he felt at the watering hole. He said he sensed no real danger there, but he added he would still find it hard to spend the night there alone, even at 77 years of age. So, the question remains: Is Jenny still around? Did Clendenin's mysterious spiritualist release her soul? If those bleached bones really were hers, did she slowly weaken and fade? Or does some remnant of Jenny Papworth even now remain, lost and fated to haunt the darkness? Clendenin said she didn't know. "I certainly believe that she was real," Clendenin said. "I've never been fortunate enough to see a ghost, though. Something of Jenny may still remain, but I can't say." Miller agreed, saying where Jenny was couldn't be known. "Of Jenny's ghost, who can say?" he said. "Who knows what sort of place she is in here in our world -- or out of our world?" A worthy question. Where is Jenny Papworth? How long does she have to stay where she is? And is she alone there in the dark? +++++ A good story, eh? Thought you'd like it. Getting kind of cold out here, isn't it? The fire's just about out, I see. So, poor Jenny Papworth, out there all alone. Breaks your heart, huh? Before you go to bed tonight, just before you surrender to sleep, stop for a moment. Remember the stars we conjured up earlier, cold and icy, our small fire the only protection we have against the shadows. That fire really is getting dim, isn't it? Pretty soon there'll only be only coals left. Some chill coming on, eh? Anyway, just before you go to sleep, think about poor Jenny. Poor little lost Jenny and her babe out there alone in the dark. Where is she out there? She could be close to home. Well, there goes the fire. Best you were "heading that way." Thanks for listening. Pleasant dreams. The rest is silence. Portions of this article were compiled from Ghost Stories of Texas by Ed Syers, copyright 1981 Texian Press, and The Ghost of the McDow Hole by Mary Joe Clendenin, copyright 1979. Special thanks to Ms. Clendenin and Wes Miller for all of their help. ++++++ Hope you enjoyed it. Pleasant dreams. And don't worry -- as far as we know, Jenny's reach doesn't extend beyond Texas. At least, we hope it doesn't. ;) -- ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::"To see a world in a Grain of Sand :::: brianbet@netcom.com :: :: And Heaven in a Wild Flower, :::: S E E K E R * O F * W I S D O M :: :: Hold Infinity in the palm of your :::: S E A R C H E R * O F * T R U T H:: :: Hand, and eternity in an hour." ::::S P I N N E R * O F * S T O R I E S:: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::