2 Upright Stones On The Hillside

Today’s guestpost was written by Ed Ammons.

Two Upright Stones on the Hillside


Two Upright Stones on the Hillside written by Ed Ammons.

There are two upright stones up on the hillside above our home on Wiggins. Daddy told us to leave them alone. He said he thought they were graves and not to disturb them. I, being afraid of everything, had no problem with that. I wouldn’t even go near them unless I had somebody else with me.

Harold and cousin Crazy Joe weren’t so timid. As 10 or 12 year old boys will do they imagined that the markers were for an Indian burial ground or maybe a hidden treasure. They just had to find out. Me, I was sure they were graves and if they were disturbed, the souls of those interred there would haunt us the rest of our lives.

But out came the mattock and shovels and off they went while I stayed behind to pursue my own agenda, meanwhile ever conscious of the transgressions that were taking place up on the mountain. I could hear their muffled voices and the sounds of their tools striking the ground. This continued for what seemed to be hours with intermittent short breaks, then it stopped, dead silence!

I look up the hill and here they come. Not running but moving at a pretty good clip. And pale as a ghost, both of them. “What’s wrong? What did you find?” “Nothing. Just an old piece of wood.” “Where are the tools?” “We left them.” “Are you going back to get them? Daddy will git you if you leave them up there?” “I ain’t going back!” “I ain’t neither.”

Daddy took care of his tools and only let us use them if we treated them with the same respect. That left me to retrieve the tools or face Daddy’s wrath. So off up the mountain I go at a fairly good pace, but the farther I got, the slower I climbed. When I got in sight of the scene, I stopped. I could see a mound of dirt. A sense of dread settled over me. I wanted to turn and run, but I knew I had to get those tools. On I go. One short step at a time. Right up to that hole and the mound of dirt beside it. Something is telling me to grab those tools and run. Something else is telling me, you can’t go off and leave that grave open. The second voice won out.

I picked up one of the shovels and started to fill the hole without looking down inside it. More than half the mound was gone before I worked up the nerve to look where I was throwing the dirt. The more dirt I got in the hole the more the sense of dread was lifted. There was enough dirt to make a little mound on top. By the time I replaced the little stone I was feeling good about what I had done. I picked up the tools and started back down the hill. After just a few steps, I turned back toward the little mound and whispered, “It’s alright children, go back to sleep now.”

Harold might dispute my version of this story. Crazy Joe has a grave of his own now on another mountain top not too far away. Maybe he stops by to check on the children every now and then.


I hope you enjoyed Ed’s guestpost as much as I did!


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  • Reply
    November 2, 2013 at 12:15 pm

    I always enjoy Ed’s stories, but this one was more dramatic than some! Glad it had a peaceful ending 🙂

  • Reply
    November 2, 2013 at 11:51 am

    Your posts for November 1 and 2 did not come in on my email. I did find them through a web search. Maybe the ghosts of Halloween deleted me.

  • Reply
    November 1, 2013 at 9:03 am

    I always enjoy reading Ed’s stories; maybe they are only his version. Happy Halloween!

  • Reply
    Eva Nell Mull Wike, Ph.D.
    October 31, 2013 at 5:48 pm

    Ed, your details are clear and the result is so familiar to me. How many times has ‘the younger’ child been put through such scary trials? I was number seven from the top and I always got left behind when an older sister declared “A MAD DOG is coming!” Or it could have been a prisoner that had escaped down at Peachtree Prison. It didn’t take much to set off a panic in my mind
    Eva Nell

  • Reply
    Phil Dirt~Marsha Maleo~Hal O. Weiner
    October 31, 2013 at 3:09 pm

    Tip, This is for Ed and others..
    Boo n’ Scream
    Scaring Tricking Treating
    Arrive Witches, Jack-o-lanterns,
    Ghosts and Ghouls
    A sinqain poem for soul cake day!
    written and copyright by

  • Reply
    Ron Banks
    October 31, 2013 at 1:41 pm

    Good story Ed. Like you, I would never in a thousand years disturb what I thought to be a grave. Let the dead rest in peace for we shall all join them some day.

  • Reply
    Julie Hughes
    October 31, 2013 at 12:55 pm

    Loved it Ed. Thanks for the great “story”!! Happy Halloween to all.

  • Reply
    b. Ruth
    October 31, 2013 at 12:22 pm

    and Ed….great story!
    Do you think by leaving the tools they would trick you into going up there to the grave stones. Them knowing you didn’t like going by yourself. But your Daddy skeered you more than any old ghost. Plus you had the respect of his wishes….Where you older and sad but most parents will say “You were the oldest, you should’ve kept them outta trouble!” It happened to me a lot looking over the tangle my younger brothers could into…LOL
    You done good Ed!
    Loved this Spacial Ed Halloween Post!
    Thanks Tipper,
    PS..Batten down the hatches…The wind is goin’ to blow and the beautiful trees are going to throw all their leaves across the mountains and valleys….and my trees were just gettin’ so doggone purty! I still have that little Japanese Maple that holds it leaves to the very last, turning bright firey orange in November before dropping them!

  • Reply
    Ken Roper
    October 31, 2013 at 10:55 am

    I enjoyed this story on Halloween,
    and Ed-You’re a great storyteller.
    That was a good thing you did,
    covering up the graves. Young boys
    have some imagination and do many
    things they shouldn’t, growing up.
    What better mood could you ask for
    with the winds a blowin’ and rainy and leaves a fallin’? It’s Halloween!!!…Ken

  • Reply
    October 31, 2013 at 9:55 am

    A wonderful post for Halloween!

  • Reply
    October 31, 2013 at 9:12 am

    Great post, Ed. Wonder what the boys heard or saw that spooked them. That’s good enough for them! Maybe they didn’t dig into any more graves after that.

  • Reply
    October 31, 2013 at 7:59 am

    Excellent post Ed.

  • Reply
    Sheryl Paul
    October 31, 2013 at 7:36 am

    I did, Ed you are a great story teller. Love to have you around the campfire.

  • Reply
    Miss Cindy
    October 31, 2013 at 7:18 am

    A tale well told with suspense to the end and beyond!

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