Thanks to Local History and Genealogy Specialist Zachary Harris for sharing these spooky local ghost stories with us!
Halloween is right around the corner and as I always do this time of year, I’ve been revisiting the large collection of local ghost stories and folklore housed in the Library’s Tennessee Room. This season, I’ve been particularly interested in two extraordinary tales—one from the Roan Highlands and the other from Elizabethton—that I found in The Granny Curse story collection.
The Greasy Witches of the Roan Highlands
The Roan Highlands are a vast stretch of mountains that runs along the East Tennessee/North Carolina border. They are a thru-way of the Appalachian Trail and highly regarded for their natural beauty. They’re also known for a few extraordinary legends. A few of the myriad tales surrounding the region include a ghostly or angelic (depending on who you ask) choir, mysterious lights, or the lovesick ghost of Dark Hollow Road. However, one of my favorites and one of the most outlandish is the story of the “Greasy Witches.”
The tale goes that a young drifter made his way into Jonesborough, Tennessee in the town’s early years during a particularly cold December. He racked up a significant debt to several parties and was aware of the harsh punishment handed to bankrupt debtors. He decided it was high time to move along. The drifter began a trek through the Roan Highlands, planning to cross over into North Carolina near Sunset Rock. Roan’s bald mountains were bitterly cold in December, and thinking himself near death from cold exposure, the drifter found himself at the door of a cabin by sheer luck. Two old women welcomed him in, feeding and providing him with a place to sleep. Thinking himself quite lucky, our protagonist decided to sleep away the cold December night.
The drifter awoke to his hosts coating themselves head-to-toe in lard, and upon chanting a magic spell, flying out through the little cabin’s chimney. The drifter decided to follow their example. Up the chimney he went, following the ladies over the bald mountains back into Jonesborough. There he found them ‘shopping,’ filling sacks to the brim with the general store’s food and whiskey. He had a particular liking for whiskey, especially free whiskey, and he awoke some time later beneath a large barrel of it.
The next morning, as you can imagine, the townsfolk were not happy with his thievery and the man’s punishment was arranged to be carried out quickly. As the tale goes, our protagonist was visited in his jail cell by the “Greasy Witches,” who struck a bargain in exchange for his freedom. Now, on cold winter nights, folks in small Tennessee towns say they occasionally wake up with lighter cupboards and empty bottles.
The Gap Creek Road Hitchhiker
Our second ghost story comes from the quiet backroads of Elizabethton. As the legend goes, the ghost of Abraham Lincoln hitchhikes Gap Creek Road’s curves and corners as it runs through Big Spring. At least that’s one interpretation. Others say there is a two-headed creature hoping to latch itself to the hood of your car. Is it really Lincoln’s ghost haunting an Elizabethton road? Or is it a two-headed beast of the night?
According to one story, it’s something else entirely. In the early 1920s, two brothers attended a local Fourth of July festival, driving their Model A down Gap Creek Road to reach the fairgrounds. One brother, who was particularly tall and handsome, thought he would impress festival-goers by dressing in luxurious presidential fashion, complete with a proper top hat rented from the local undertaker and his grandfather’s solid gold pocket watch. As you can imagine, he bore a striking resemblance to Abraham Lincoln.
Mr. Lincoln’s brother had offered to drive a woman he met at the fair home, so he told Lincoln to begin the walk home along Gap Creek Road and he would return to pick him up. On that lonely road, Lincoln met an ill fate. He was attacked by a thief demanding his expensive belongings. Lincoln refused and fled as fast as he could. During this pursuit, his brother drove by on Gap Creek. Lincoln’s brother assumed that the wild flailing and cries for help were a practical joke on his brother’s part, so he decided to simply keep driving. Lincoln never made it home.
Now, a century later, people say that late at night on Gap Creek Road’s lonely bends, a wild-eyed, well-dressed hitchhiker with a top hat desperately clings to passing cars in the hope of finally getting that lifesaving ride.
If you’re intrigued by these fantastical stories and want to explore more of our region’s strange and wonderful tales, stop by the Library’s Tennessee Room to browse our full collection of ghost stories.
More News
