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IEARN Learning Circle Project Folktales from Clifton Hills School, Chattanooga
Mrs. Field’s fourth grade students conducted the research for this project. They used the following website as their resource. A variety of folktales and tales by subject are provided from this site.http://www.americanfolklore.net/
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Yellowhammer Retold by S. E. Schlosser
“Once long ago, Sam, a young slave from Alabama, was sent to the market in Georgia with his master's cattle. After delivering the cattle to market, Sam was given some free time as a reward for good service. Sam decided to explore the city.
Sam went walking along the streets, admiring the fine residences of the Georgia folk. He was passing a particularly fine-looking mansion when he heard something give a scream. Sam was startled. He looked around for the screamer. There, up in a tree, he saw a parrot.
"Hush," Sam told the parrot.
Well, that parrot didn't hush. Instead, he started cussin' and ragin' something fierce. Sam didn't like having a bird swear at him. He picked up a stick and tossed it at the parrot. A houseman was nearby. He saw Sam throw the stick at the bird and yelled out: "Don't kill that bird. It's valuable."
"Valuable?" Sam said. "Don't talk crazy! We got millions of them yellowhammers in Alabama. And ours got more manners!"
Well, the story of Sam and the parrot spread like wildfire around Georgia. Ever since, folks in Georgia have been calling Alabama the Yellowhammer State.”
I like this folktale because it was new to me and it represented the state bird of Alabama. I did not know that this type of folktale was available. I like the fact that it talks about history. Mrs. Hockert
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Domineke liked the folktale retold by S.E. Schlosser called Paul Bunyan’s Kitchen
“One winter, Paul Bunyan came to log along the Little Gimlet in Oregon. Ask any old timer who was logging that winter, and they'll tell you I ain't lying when I say his kitchen covered about ten miles of territory.
That stove, now, she were a grand one. An acre long, taller than a scrub pine, and when she was warm, she melted the snow for about twenty miles around. The men logging in the vicinity never had to put on their jackets 'til about noon on a day when Paul Bunyan wanted flapjacks.
It was quite a site to see, that cooks of Paul Bunyan's making flapjacks. Cookie would send four of the boys up with a side of hog tied to each of their snowshoes, and they'd skate around up there keeping the griddle greased while Cookie and seven other men flipped flapjacks for Paul Bunyan. Took them about an hour to make enough flapjacks to fill him up. The rest of us had to wait our turn.
The table we had set up for the camp was about ten miles long. We rigged elevators to the table to bring the vittles to each end, and some of the younger lads in the camp rode bicycles down the path at the center, carrying cakes and such wherever they were called for.
We had one mishap that winter. Babe the Blue Ox accidentally knocked a bag of dried peas off the countertop when he swished his tail. Well, them peas flew so far and so fast out of the kitchen that they knocked over a dozen loggers coming home for lunch, clipped the tops off of several pine trees, and landed in the hot spring. We had pea soup to eat for the rest of the season, which was okay by me, but them boys whose Mama's insisted they bath more than once a year were pretty sore at losing their swimming hole.” He liked it because it was about giants.
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Zachary liked Johnny Appleseed. This is an American favorite and is studied in school in the fall. He liked it because he has known it for a long time. He really liked this story. He thinks it is the best folktale ever told. He likes it because it is a good tale. Johnny also selected this tale because his name is the same one as for the tale.
Johnny Appleseed retold by S. E. Schlosser
“Johnny Appleseed was a hermit and a wanderer who was welcomed wherever he went in the Ohio territory. Everyone loved him, in spite of his unkempt appearance. He always carried a sack full of apple seeds to plant, and walked barefoot all year round. He knew the frontier woods better than anyone. Even the Indians respected Johnny Appleseed for his courage.
When the War of 1812 began, many Indians allied themselves with the British, seeking to revenge injustices done to their people by the settlers. They attacked up and down the Ohio territory, but they left Johnny Appleseed alone. Taking advantage of his position, Johnny Appleseed became the Paul Revere of the Ohio territory, warning settlers of danger.
On one occasion, Johnny Appleseed learned that a band of Indians had laid siege on the town of Mansfield, Ohio. Johnny Appleseed ran twenty-six miles through the forest to Mt. Vernon to obtain help for the settlers. As he ran, he tried to warn other settlers along the path of the danger by blowing on an old powder horn. Aid reached the town within a day, and the settlers were spared, thanks to the bravery of Johnny Appleseed.”
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Allison is very fond of John Henry. She likes it because it is a great tale. John Henry is a famous folktale. Allison hopes you like this story. Derrick also chose this folktale. He hopes you like it too. This tale is a favorite! Casei and Tymeshia also selected this tale. Tymeshia likes to read this tale to her brother.
John Henry retold by S. E. Schlosser
“Now John Henry was a mighty man, yes sir. He was born a slave in the 1840's but was freed after the war. He went to work as a steel-driver for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad, don't ya know. And John Henry was the strongest, the most powerful man working the rails.
John Henry, he would spend his day's drilling holes by hitting thick steel spikes into rocks with his faithful shaker crouching close to the hole, turning the drill after each mighty blow. There was no one who could match him, though many tried.
Well, the new railroad was moving along right quick, thanks in now little part to the mighty John Henry. But looming right smack in its path was a mighty enemy - the Big Bend Mountain. Now the big bosses at the C&O Railroad decided that they couldn't go around the mile and a quarter thick mountain. No sir, the men of the C&O were going to go through it - drilling right into the heart of the mountain.
A thousand men would lose their lives before the great enemy was conquered. It took three long years, and before it was done the ground outside the mountain was filled with makeshift, sandy graves. The new tunnels were filled with smoke and dust. Ya couldn't see no how and could hardly breathe. But John Henry, he worked tirelessly, drilling with a 14 pound hammer, and going 10 to 12 feet in one workday. No one else could match him.
Then one day a salesman came along to the camp. He had him a steam-powered drill. Claimed it could out-drill any man. Well, they set up a contest then and there between John Henry and that there drill. The foreman ran that newfangled steam-drill. John Henry, he just pulled out two 20 pound hammers, one in each hand. They drilled and drilled, dust rising everywhere. The men were howling and cheering. At the end of 35 minutes, John Henry had drilled - two seven foot holes - a total of fourteen feet, while the steam drill had only drilled one nine foot hole.
John Henry held up his hammers in triumph! The men shouted and cheered. The noise was so loud, it took a moment for the men to realize that John Henry was tottering. Exhausted, the mighty man crashed to the ground, the hammer's rolling from his grasp. The crowd went dead quiet as the foreman rushed to his side. But it was too late. A blood vessel had burst in his brain. The greatest driller in the O&R Railroad was dead.
Some folks say that John Henry's likeness is carved right into the rock inside the Big Bend Tunnel. And if you walk to the edge of the blackness of the tunnel, sometimes you can hear the sound of two 20- pound hammers drilling their way to victory over the machine. “
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Johnathan found this great folktale from South Carolina. He chose this one because it reminded him of the people who died in the war. He thought our friends in Ireland might like it.
Army of the Dead retold by S. E. Schlosser
“A laundress, newly moved to Charleston following the Civil War, found herself awakened at the stroke of twelve each night by the rumble of heavy wheels passing in the street. But she lived on a dead end street, and had no explanation for the noise. Her husband would not allow her to look out the window when she heard the sounds, telling her to leave well enough alone. Finally, she asked the woman who washed at the tub next to hers. The woman said: "What you are hearing is the Army of the Dead. They are Confederate soldiers who died in hospital without knowing that the war was over. Each night, they rise from their graves and go to reinforce Lee in Virginia to strengthen the weakened Southern forces."
The next night, the laundress slipped out of bed to watch the Army of the Dead pass. She stood spellbound by the window as a gray fog rolled passed. Within the fog, she could see the shapes of horses, and could hear gruff human voices and the rumble of canons being dragged through the street, followed by the sound of marching feet. Foot soldiers, horsemen, ambulances, wagons and canons passed before her eyes, all shrouded in gray. After what seemed like hours, she heard a far off bugle blast, and then silence.
When the laundress came out of her daze, she found one of her arms was paralyzed. She has never done a full -days washing since.”
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Darian liked two tales and thought our friends would enjoy them. This is a Louisiana ghost story.
The Cut-off retold by S. E. Schlosser
“The devil was in the Mississippi River that night. You could feel it with every eddy swirling against the helm of the boat. You could hear it in every jangle of the bell. You could see it in the dim light of the lantern as it tried to pierce the swirling fog. You could sense it in the sound of the chugging engine. The devil was in the river. It was a bad night to be out in a paddleboat. But he had sworn when he set out that nothing could make him turn back.
No other pilot dared brave the Mississippi that night. They were all huddled in the tavern, gossiping. After an evening of listening to their empty boasts, he had made one himself. He knew the Mississippi River so well that he could guide his paddleboat on his run even through the thickness of the night's fog. When the other pilots heard his boast, they laughed and told him he would be back before midnight. He had grown angry at their jeers, and had sworn in front of them all that he would not turn back this night for any reason, should the Devil bar the way!
The paddle wheeler was rocking oddly under the strange eddies of the river. But he knew every turn and guided her along despite the fog. He was almost to Raccourci when he saw shore where no shore had ever been before.
He turned the boat this way and that. It could not be! The river ran straight through on this branch. He had guided his paddleboat through this place a hundred times.
But the devil must have been listening at the tavern and had heard his boast, for the Mississippi had shifted! He swore every curse he knew, and kept searching for a way through. He had vowed to complete his run without turning back and he was determined to carry out his vow. He would never go back. Never! He would stay there until daybreak, and beyond if need be.
Suddenly, the paddleboat gave a massive jerk. The engine stalled. The boat shuddered and overturned. When the fog lifted the next day, they found his paddleboat sunk to the bottom with a gaping hole in its side, and the pilot drowned.
On foggy nights, you can still hear the ring of the bell, the sound of the engine and the curses of the ghost captain trying to complete his run.”
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Darian, Jarvis and Breuanna all liked this story about the White House because it is so scary.
The White House Ghosts retold by S. E. Schlosser
“It is said that Lincoln's ghost haunts the White House. He appears in the room where the Lincoln bed is kept. Harry Truman once responded to a 3 o'clock knock on his door and found no one there. He attributed the knock to Lincoln.
Lincoln is said to return to the White House when the security of the country is at risk. He strides up and down the second floor hallway, raps at doors, and stands by certain windows with his hands clasped behind his back. One staff member claimed to have seen Lincoln sitting on his bed pulling on his boots.
A bodyguard to President Harrison was kept awake many nights trying to protect the president from mysterious footsteps he heard in the hall. He grew so tired and worried; he finally attended a séance to beg President Lincoln to stop so he could get enough sleep to properly protect the president!
Abigail Adam's ghost was seen drifting through the closed doors of the East Room to hang the laundry during the Taft administration.
A gardener claims to have spoken to the ghost of Dolly Madison, who reproved him for trying to remove the rose bushes she had planted over a hundred years ago.
In the 1930's Andrew Jackson's ghost could be heard laughing in the Rose room.
In 1952, extensive repairs were done to the second floor of the White House. Since then, the ghosts have not walked so actively.”
****************************************************************** Jonathan B. liked this folktale from Rhode Island about a ship called the Palatine. Ashley also liked this tale.
Palatine retold by S. E. Schlosser
“The Palatine gleamed in the sunlight as she set out with a full crew, a long list of passengers, and a hull full of merchandise for the American Colonies the winter of 1750-1751. Certainly, there was no indication that morning of the destiny fate had in store for her.
It was not until the first of the storms blew the ship off course that the passengers began to sense the trouble brewing under the surface between the captain and his crew. By the time the storms had ended, the captain was dead, murdered by his crew, and the passengers were prisoners. During the days which followed, the sailors forced the passengers to pay exorbitant prices for a bit of bread and some water to drink.
One morning, the passengers awoke to find that the crew had stolen all of their money and stores and had abandoned the ship. Terrified, they could do nothing but ride out the next series of storms sent by the devils which rule the Atlantic in winter.
The Palatine came to ruin just off of Block Island. The shore folk bravely faced the storm to rescue the starving passengers from the wreck. Then they set fire to the ship so that it would not endanger any passing ships. But as the ship burned, the shore folk heard a wild scream. A mad woman, confined on the ship during the voyage, had been left on board!
Every year since then, on the day of the tragedy, the Palatine reappears off the shore and is wrecked and burned before the eyes of any who watch for her.”
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Hoosiers retold by S. E. Schlosser
“There's an ongoing debate here in the great state of Indiana over the origins of the word "Hoosiers". My Granddad, he falls into the first camp, and me, I fall into the second.
My Granddad says Indiana folk are called Hoosiers because folks in Indiana are so curious they are always popping here and there, poking their heads into every door they see, and calling "Who's here?".
Me, I think we are called Hoosiers because of the hushers. That's what they used to call the town bully, because he could hush his opponent. Since we Indiana folk are so big and strong, we get called "hushers" or "hooshers" as our neighbors in Louisiana like to say.
I don't know if we will ever reconcile the two sides to each other. But anyhow, Indiana folk are called Hoosiers, right enough. And we're proud of it, too!”
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Mekal selected this story from Michigan and he thought it was a very interesting story.
Frozen Flames retold by S. E. Schlosser
“One winter, shortly after Paul Bunyan dug Lake Michigan as a drinking hole for his blue ox, Babe, he decided to camp out in the Upper Peninsula. It was so cold in that there logging camp that one evening, the temperature dropped to 68 degrees below zero. Each degree in the camp thermometer measured sixteen inches long and the flames in the lanterns froze solid. No one, not even Paul Bunyan, could blow them out.
The lumberjacks didn't want the bunkhouse lit at night, because they wouldn't get any sleep. So they put the lanterns way outside of camp where they wouldn't disturb anyone. But they forgot about the lanterns, so that when thaw came in the early spring, the lanterns flared up again and set all of northern Michigan on fire! They had to wake Paul Bunyan up so he could stamp out the fire with his boots.”
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Kerrion liked this folktale from Tennessee about Davy Crockett.
Frozen Dawn retold by S. E. Schlosser
“One winter, it was so cold that the dawn froze solid. The sun got caught between two ice blocks, and the earth iced up so much that it couldn't turn. The first rays of sunlight froze halfway over the mountain- tops. They looked like yellow icicles dripping towards the ground.
Now Davy Crockett was headed home after a successful night hunting when the dawn froze up so solid. Being a smart man, he knew he had to do something quick or the earth was a goner. He had a freshly killed bear on his back, so he whipped it off, climbed right up on those rays of sunlight and began beating the hot bear carcass against the ice blocks which were squashing the sun. Soon a gush of hot oil burst out of the bear and it melted the ice. Davy gave the sun a good hard kick to get it started, and the sun's heat unfroze the earth and started it spinning again. So Davy lit his pipe on the sun, shouldered the bear, slid himself down the sun rays before they melted and took a bit of sunrise home in his pocket.”
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