Truth or Fiction in the Smokies

Celebrating the legends created by the people of the mountain

Not all legends are created equally. For instance, take Lucy of Roaring Fork. It’s the same old ghost yarn we’ve all heard a thousand times in a thousand places. A young man, alone at night finds a young woman in some level of distress. She is in need of a ride home. On the way, the young man becomes smitten, drops the girl off with plans to reunite with her in the coming days. When he comes back in the light of day, she’d nowhere to be found.

“But she’s been dead for years,” he’s told by her father/mother/sister/brother neighbor.

And then, spookiness ensues. But this – in my opinion – in not truly a mountain legend. Just a story that can be applied to any place or any time. A sad Twilight Zone knockoff that doesn’t have any real attachment to the region.

But what about the true stories of the mountains? Not true in the sense that they’re literally true, but true in the sense that they really originated in the mountains.

The Legend of the Secret Lake

The native peoples of the Smokies have fascinating folklore of the mountains in which they have lived for generations. One of those legends is of Atagahi, a hidden lake that can only be found by the pure of heart. The lake is supposedly hidden in the high mountains near what would now be the Tennessee-North Carolina State line. Like Indian Boundary Lake on the Cherohala Skyway but much harder to find. It cannot be seen unless the proper preparations are made. Fish and fowl in this paradise teeming with wildlife are not to be hunted or disturbed in any way. And only a select few are allowed to see the lake.

Those seeking Atagahi should fast and pray, heightening their spiritual development. A seeker can only be led there by the sound of the wings of the fowl and birds flying by. If someone finds the right spot but hasn’t followed the sound, they will find only a dry mudflat. And they will not be blessed with seeing the sacred waters. If you think about it, it’s a little like the corn in “Field of Dreams” – only the worthy can see the magic.

Spearfinger

This Cherokee legend is a little less pleasant than Atagahi. Spearfinger is a shape-shifting witch with a long obsidian knife in place of one of her fingers – hence the name. She roams the mountains, shrieking and cackling. She’s also developed a taste for human livers, especially those belonging to Cherokee Children.

It’s pretty easy to see the origins of this legend were likely to inspire kids to stay close to the village and not going and getting lost in the big forest. She frequently came to Chilhowee Mountain and walked down to the Little River in Walland in Blount County, seeking out her prey. Spearfinger was a creature of stealth. She could appear as an old lady, a child, a friend, or a wild animal to lure children away from the village. She’d sing her liver eating song as she moved through the mountains with her raven friend.

Spearfinger’s mortal enemy was Stone Man. Each time I think of Stone Man, I sing his name in my head to the tune of Soundgarden’s iconic Spoonman just as an FYI.

Though it doesn’t appear that Stone Man was much of a friend to the Cherokee, either. He also liked eating livers. His powers included the ability to move boulders and rock. However, it’s unclear if they extended to so far as Spearfinger’s rock skin.

The Feral People

There are some who believe – or at least try to capitalize on the idea that they believe – that the Smokies are inhabited by a group of subhuman feral people who abduct children and livestock. They also say the mountain people and the US government know about them but won’t talk about it.

Frankly, I think the idea the mountain people are partnering with the government on anything is more far-fetched than the idea of feral people. But let’s game this out by comparing a couple of headlines.

First, from the always reliable Daily Express US. “’Naked Cannibals’ Staking National Park After Dozens Vanish.” The accompanying picture is of Trenny Lynn Gibson who disappeared at the age of 16 while on a class field trip at Kuwohi.

The second – from the somewhat more reliable Knoxville News Sentinel, “How most Smoky Mountain hikers go missing and how they survived.” It includes the following line, right there in the lead “Since the park was established in 1934, there have been only five documented cases of people who went missing in the park and were never found.”

So, if there are feral cannibals eating people in the park, either we’re way under reporting missing people or they really have a knack for making a meal stretch out.

Are there feral people in the mountains? Of course not. The Smokies are big but it ain’t the Amazon, you know? A person can get lost in the forest, of course. But a sustainable population of feral cannibals – one that presumably isn’t operating with an excessive level of cunning – would leave signs and evidence.

Davy Crockett

Born in Greene County and raised as a mountain man, Crockett lived an extraordinary life. However, it grew bigger after his death to the point that the lines between the real man and the legends were blurred.

Crockett’s father, John, struggled financially and indentured the boy – all of 12 – to pay off debts. At that age, Davy worked as a cowboy on a 400-mile drive to the Natural Bridge in Virginia. Afterwards, his father tried to send him to school, but Crockett preferred working and joined another cattle drive.

Two years later, he returned to his father’s tavern in what would become Morristown and was again lent out to work off his father’s debt. He served in Andrew Jackson’s armies in both the Creek War and the War of 1812. But he was mostly a scout and worked to forage for food and hunt game for the soldiers.

He got into politics and by 1824 was elected to Congress. His opposition to fellow Tennessean and now President Jackson’s Indian Removal Act got him beat in the subsequent election. He re-won his seat two years later in 1833 but was defeated in 1835.

He published an autobiography and while promoting it gave the following quote:

“I told the people of my district that I would serve them as faithfully as I had done; but if not, they might go to hell, and I would go to Texas.”

Already incredibly famous, Crockett was a man of his word, leading a group to help in the Texas Revolution. On the way, he was given a hero’s welcome in Little Rock, Arkansas. He arrived in Nacogdoches, Texas in January of 1836 and died two months later at the Alama.

Crockett’s fame endured and was bolstered in the 1950s into a national obsession – roughly 120 years after his death. Movies, books, and songs commemorating the mountain man who “Kilt a bar” when he was only three.

Today, you can visit the Crockett Tavern in Morristown near the site where his father’s tavern was located. You can also see artifacts from his life at the Jefferson County Courthouse in Dandridge. The Davy Crockett Birthplace State Park in Limestone in Greene County, however, remains closed due to damage sustained during Hurricane Helene.

What is your favorite lore? Let us know in the comments!