Stories, Gossip, and Tall Tales ~by Mark Blackwell
B
rown County has a tradition of oral culture otherwise known as stories, lies, gossip, and tall tales. Way before storytelling was documented by Frank Hohenberger’s famous photograph of the Liar’s Bench; storytelling was a way of disseminating the news and a means of entertainment. A good portion of Brown County conversations begin with, “Did I ever tell you about…” or “Didja hear about…” as in, “Didja hear about Cletus? He got bit by a rattler. It
54 Our Brown County March/April 2021
was pretty sad.” To which the soon-tobe recipient of the punchline would reply, “What happened? Did he die?” The bestower of the report then says, “No, Cletus survived but it killed the snake.” Not just current events and gossip was communicated orally, local history was, too. I guess you could say there are two histories of Brown County. You can find history in books like A History of the Counties of Morgan, Monroe and Brown, Indiana. Those accounts of the past tend to be kind of dry. The proper history books tell you about the first settlers and when Nashville (Jacksonburg) was first platted out. They tell about who the founding fathers were (they don’t get much into the founding mothers) and who was on the tax rolls. The history I like comes down through generations of storytellers. That’s where the legends of Booger Holler and Stone Head and stories about Bear Wallow come from. But it wasn’t just history and happenings that folks talked about—they talked about the weather, too. As I sit here writing this little essay, I am snowed-in from one of the bigger winter storms of recent memory. This is the kind of snow that gets so deep you don’t want to let your dog out to pee. He might sink in a drift and you run the risk of not finding him until spring, along with your lawn mower, leaf rake and snow shovel. I am reminded of a story I heard somewhere or another about a Brown County blizzard that happened way back in the dim mists of history. In fact, it
