I’ll tell you about the time one Saturday night me and my buddies were running around in my truck and as we did on most Saturday nights looking for a little trouble to get into. You know, what 16 or 17-year old boys would do. But when you live in a town of 5,000 people and two stop lights, sometimes you got to look a little bit harder than most other people do.
So after drinking a handful a beers apiece, we thought we’d ride out in the country a bit to see what we could find. We ended up on old Greenville Road and it was a small two lane highway that connected Central City to Greenville. It wound its way through the countryside, in hills and hallows and curves–it seemed like it was a lot longer than the six miles that it was, especially compared with the four-lane bypass highway that went into multiple towns in about 5 minutes.
Well one of the highlights of old Greenville Road was a place we did not frequent often now as when we were younger. Our older siblings and friends had put the fear into us when it came to a place classed Bell Witch Cemetery. About now it had gotten to be about 11 or 12 o clock and we decided that at least one of use in the group had built up enough courage to turn in and ride up the hill to the cemetery. We crept our way up the little gravel road, winding through the trees about a mile. Finally, we broke through the opening and the woods to see the fence lined cemetery.
As you might guess, we were all getting a bit nervous, we were just 16 or 17-years old, and it was after midnight. So we had been teasing one another, trying to make the others scared or spooked. It didn’t help when we pulled inside the gate and turned our truck to the right to find a pick up truck facing us. We stopped abruptly and found ourselves nose to nose with another truck. Only then did we look up into the cabin to see two long haired gentlemen, resting their heads on the back on the seat, eyes closed.
Minutes (probably seconds) passed by and they slowly raised their heads forward, to cast their eyes upon the intruders—us. Only now did we realize they weren’t dead. We were scared out of our wits, but not so much that we were going to panic. We then began to tease each other as we found a way to back up and leave. It was only then as we started to leave, that we saw them raise their shotguns, and their doors began to open.
By now our fearful laughter had turned into terror filled screams. We now found ourselves faced with the possibility of murder by two long haired men in Bell Witch Cemetery. Needless to say the sight of the shotguns increased our desire to speed up the process. We started slinging gavel their direction pretty quickly. We turned around, started out the gate and with the four of us in the cab of that truck, I’m sure the two red necks with long hair and shot guns only saw one head, as the other 3 were down on the floor.
We zipped back to that two-lane country highway…ten minutes later we found ourselves in the parking lot of IGA telling everyone how sober we had become in a matter of minutes.
~ Jes Childress, Nashville, Tennessee