Boogers and Boo-Daddies by Staff of John F. Blair Publisher

Author:Staff of John F. Blair, Publisher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Folklore/Ghosts
Publisher: Blair
Published: 2004-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Ghost Who Cried for Help

from Haints, Witches, and Boogers: Tales from Upper East Tennessee

by Charles Edwin Price

Boys the world over love to take dares—that’s an undeniable fact. A night spent in a haunted house, or any other location supposedly infested by a ghost, is the kind of dare that no self-respecting young man can resist, especially when pressed by his peers. A favorite spot for this kind of sport in upper East Tennessee is a copse of a half-dozen elm and oak trees near Piney Flats, located about halfway between Johnson City and Bristol. There, the horrible apparition of a wounded Union soldier once pleaded piteously for help, his red eyes glowing with the fires of hell.

The legend of the ghost who cried for help had its beginnings in September 1863. Union troops under the command of General Ambrose Burnside set upon a force of Confederates assembled in Washington County. After a skirmish, Union troops retired, thinking they had soundly whipped the Confederates. A portion of the Union force was left to guard an important bridge across Little Limestone Creek, while the remaining soldiers returned to Greeneville by train.

The Confederates were not beaten quite so easily. Their ranks swelled by reinforcements from Jonesborough, they attacked the Yankees at the bridge. For a time, a Confederate victory seemed imminent. But Union troops increased their fire, aided by twelve-pound Napoleon smooth-bore cannons, and the Southerners were forced to retreat to the Greene County line.

Two weeks later, Confederate forces again engaged Union troops in and around Jonesborough, the county seat of Washington County. A running battle ensued that extended from Jonesborough northward through Johnson’s Depot (later Johnson City) and on toward Bluff City. Scattered groups of men on both sides stalked each other, blazing away from behind trees, rock outcroppings, and riverbanks. Confederate sharpshooters, most of whom had gained their skills by hunting game in the woods back home, shot down Union soldiers like so many rabbits.

In a little grove of trees near Piney Flats, the story goes, three Union soldiers were ambushed by Confederates. When the smoke cleared, two soldiers lay dead and a third was gravely wounded. The sharpshooters moved on to other prey, leaving the wounded man to suffer all night, calling out piteously for someone to come help him. The sniper’s minie ball had smashed through his right leg, severing an artery. The man ripped his shirt and applied a makeshift tourniquet, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop. No one answered his calls for help, and by morning he was dead.

Several days later, the three bodies were discovered by neighborhood boys, who ran home to tell their parents of the grisly find. The dead soldiers were given a decent Christian burial, and the incident was soon forgotten.

A year later, a traveling sutler was passing the grove when he heard someone crying out for help. Not knowing about the ambush and the wounded soldier, he walked over to the trees to see if he could help. No one was there, but the sutler could still hear the voice, loud and clear in the twilight.

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