Lore - Legends 72: The Hills

Episode Date: February 2, 2026

Appalachia might be a vast and varied terrain, but one thing about it is incredibly consistent: the presence of dark legends, hidden in the shadows. Narrated and produced by Aaron Mahnke, with writing by Nick Tecosky and research by Jamie Vargas. ————————— PRE-ORDER EXHUMED TODAY: aaronmahnke.com/exhumed ————————— Lore Resources:  Get Ad-Free Lore: lorepodcast.com/support Episode Music: lorepodcast.com/music  Episode Sources: lorepodcast.com/sources  Official Lore Merchandise: lorepodcast.com/shop ————————— Sponsors: BetterHelp: Lore is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at BetterHelp.com/LORE, and get on your way to being your best self. 1-800-Flowers: To get your Double Blooms offer, buy one dozen to get a total of two dozen roses FREE, at 1800Flowers.com/LORE. Mint Mobile: For a limited time, wireless plans from Mint Mobile are $15 a month when you purchase a 3-month plan with UNLIMITED talk, text and data at MintMobile.com/lore. ————————— To report a concern regarding a radio-style, non-Aaron ad in this episode, reach out to ads @ lorepodcast.com with the name of the company or organization so we can look into it. To advertise on this podcast please email: [e-mail]. Or go to: https://advertising.libsyn.com/lore ————————— ©2026 Aaron Mahnke. All rights reserved.

The Appalachian Mountains run deep with lore. At around 480 million years of age, they are among the oldest ranges in the world. At their peak, some scientists believed that they were taller even than the Himalayan Mountains. And thanks to continental drift, these mountains have cousins in both the Scottish Highlands and Morocco. This range, once jagged and towering, now rolls gently, worn down by millions of years, and stretches from Newfoundland and Labrador in Canada all the way down to the northern parts of Georgia and Alabama in the south. The region, known as Appalachia, runs from southern New York State into Alabama.

And it's into this region that early white settlers brought their religion and many superstitions, immigrating them into the isolated wilderness where they grew and shifted over generations. The struggle of farming in the rocky soil, as well as the later battles of the Civil War, war ravaged the land and took many young men with it. The poverty that ensued helped to further shape those superstitions, superstitions that added to the strange mystique of the place, with dense

old-growth forests and winding roads through mountains that only slowly reveal themselves to the weary traveler. Honestly, you could lose yourself in there, and many, it turns out, actually have. You see, folklore in Appalachia serves as a sort of cultural compass, taking the region's very histories, hardships, and natural wonders to create a shared narrative that both comforts and warns its listeners. Together, the legends pass down give voice to the mountains, making them active participants in the storytelling, preserving the memories of those who live and die in Appalachia, and ensuring that they remain living, breathing tales whispered around campfires for generations to come.

I'm Aaron Manky, and this is lore legends. They've been there for hundreds of years. Across the hills and hollows, there have been stories of the moon-eyed people in the caves of the Appalachian region. They've been described as short, bearded, and flat-faced, and look either Cherokee or European, depending on who the storyteller is. They are said to have large blue eyes that are poorly equipped to see in bright sunlight, and, so they only come out at night by the light of the moon. They seem to share personality traits with the elves and gnomes of European lore. They can be hospitable, kind, even, but once crossed, mocked or betrayed, they became

particularly vengeful, and they'd been there for centuries. The first published appearance of the moon-eyed people was in a book called A New Voyage and Description of the Isthmus of America by Welsh explorer Lionel Woffer, who described them as, and I quote, milk white, lighter than the color of Europeans, with a fine, short, milk white down, all over their bodies, and crescent-shaped eyes,

which allowed them to see by moonlight. These early accounts also expressed a sort of disdain or discomfort from other tribes toward the strange moon-eyed people, with some reports of the Cherokee, waging war against them before the arrival of European settlers to the Americas, which eventually ended with a treaty,

banishing the moon-eyed people from the region. And this curious story was given an interesting twist when John Severe, the first governor of Tennessee, wrote about a conversation he'd had with Cherokee Chief Augusta in a letter from 1810. The letter recounts a similar tale of expulsion. This war between the Cherokee and the Moon-Eyed people began in South Carolina many years before, ending when the pale people suggested an end to fighting in exchange for a prisoner swap and an understanding that they would leave the area forever. And the twist? Well, Severe added an interesting detail to his retelling.

His grandfather called these moon-eyed people Welsh. According to him, they had crossed the ocean and had landed at the mouth of the Alabama River before being driven to its headwaters. In addition to this, a Frenchman that Severe met had lived with the Cherokee for a time, and he'd been high up the Missouri River and had met and traded with this Welsh tribe for several months.

They were indeed very pale, he said, and spoke with a Welsh dialect, and even had scraps from old books still among them, from the old country. All of these stories of a strange tribe of Welsh predating the Cherokee in the mountains are interesting. But is there anything, any tangible evidence that they did in fact exist? Well, that all depends on who you ask. For instance, a man named Felix Axley was out working in his yard when he discovered something buried in the dirt. It was a statue, measuring about three feet tall, made of talc and soapstone. It depicted two entwined figures with oval heads and large crescent-shaped eyes. It is said to represent the moon-eyed people and resides now at the Cherokee County Historical Museum.

And an 1882 article from an indigenous paper called the Cherokee Phoenix claims to have a written account of three burial grounds near the small Tennessee town of Sparta, which contained the remains of what appeared to be very small. people, the longest, only 19 inches long, with adult teeth in their jaws. They were reportedly buried in stone coffins, although it's hard to verify this, as no one seems to know what became of the remains. And then there are the odd archaeological remains on top of Fort Mountain in Chatsworth, Georgia, which are somewhere between 500 and 1,500 years in age. They include a stone wall, which is two feet tall and almost 900 feet long, with a width of 12 feet, suggesting that it was once a much taller structure.

It stretches between peaks and seems to include what was once a gate leading to a natural spring, as well as two watchtowers. The truly strange part about this, though, it seems to have been built in a style reminiscent of European castles or forts. None of these really get to the real question, though. Who were, or are, the moon-eyed people? Well, some theories propose that they are native to the Americas, possibly an offshoot of the Kuna, a legendary tribe of albinos in what is now Panama,

or perhaps the Adina culture, a pre-Columbian tribe known for mound building. But the most prevalent and also most fanciful theory is that they are descendants of the fabled 12th century Welsh Prince Madag, who apparently sailed to North America in 1170 AD, with a squadron of ships, allegedly landing in Mobile Bay in Alabama. He then traveled home to bring more people back to settlement. the land, but was never heard from again. This theory is based on a Welsh poem from the 15th century, in which a splendid Maddogg set sail from Wales for adventure.

Now, this poem didn't specifically say that he sailed for North America. That detail was popularized as legend in a later history of Wales, which detailed Maddox trip back and forth across the ocean in 1170. In Tidal Royal, written by John D. for Elizabeth I, the first, the story is repeated again. Later versions would expand on this legend, with Maddoch and his followers marrying into the indigenous population. Supporters of this theory cite the legend appearing on both sides of the Atlantic, as well as the Fort Mountain ruins, as support. They further point to a 1799 discovery of a mass grave of six skeletons, allegedly wearing brass armor with a Welsh coat of

arms, and some Native Americans speaking a Welsh-like tongue. Historians, as you'd imagine, have opinions on this theory. For instance, it lacks all tangible evidence. Fort Mountain's mysterious structure contains no trace of Welsh weaponry, believing the forts to be a religious structure for indigenous tribes. The mass grave that was mentioned by earlier settlers is unverifiable, apparently washed away by the river. And John Dee's title royale? Well, the claims that it made conveniently added support to a guy named Sir Humphrey Gilbert, who wanted to colonize North America, but felt that he needed to have the right to do so. A fake story of prior Welsh settlement would have been enough in the age of exploration. But of course, that hasn't stopped the legend from persisting. And that right

there is one of the dangers of folklore. Sometimes it offers us a seemingly fun and entertaining story. While at its core, it is slowly rewriting our perception of history, giving birth to literal monsters. A monster stalks the land in southern Appalachia. The Nantahela Mountains contain a hint in its name. In Cherokee, Nantahela means land of the midday sun, and the region is filled with deep ravines and dense subtropical forests, a place of dark passes and deep hollows, where the sun is only a sporadic visitor. The shadow lands are the hunting grounds of a creature known as spearfinger, a legendary monster of Cherokee folklore. It was said that you could feel her coming long before she showed herself, first as a deep rumble in the earth, then as a sudden cold,

your skin crawling without reason. She could shift shapes, taking the shape of any forest creature her whim chose, a powerful bear, or the smallest of birds. It was in her natural form, though, that she was most terrifying. She was said to be a haggard elderly crone, with John. to skin so dense that it was impenetrable to axes or arrows. And in her wake followed a horrid stench, and the flies that it attracted crawled all over the surface of her body. But it was her finger that truly struck fear into the hearts of those unlucky enough to meet her.

It was a single finger on her right hand, long, bony, and twisted, which she would use to slice her victims open and cut out their livers. She had a sort of supernatural power over the stone of the mountain, that surrounded her, lifting boulders as if they weighed nothing at all, using them to build, even changing herself into them to avoid detection. She would use her shapeshifting abilities to attract her prey as well, frequently assuming the form of a kindly old woman, beckoning the children outpicking strawberries or gathering wood, offering to braid the girl's hair, which she would do gently lulling them to sleep before using her finger to split them open. Sometimes she would

even take the form of the victim that she had killed so that she could easily slip into their house and feast on their remaining family once they had all gone to sleep that night. She seemed to be a master butcher. She was so swift and her finger so sharp that she could stab a child without even being noticed, leaving no wound, causing no pain after the liver was taken. The child would go about their business until they would grow weak and die. And if the legends are true, she was a prolific killer. So prolific in fact that the Cherokee summoned a meeting of the Great Council together to decide what to do about the problem of Spearfinger.

They came from all over the region to attend, and after spirited debate, it was decided that they would set up a pitfall to trap her once and for all. A pitfall was a preferred method for catching large, dangerous game. The plan was simple, dig a deep pit on the trail, and then cover it up with branches, dirt, and brush, so that it looked as if the ground had never been disturbed. Then they would kindle a large brush fire, reminiscent of those that they would set to burn leaves and gather chestnuts in the autumn. Spearfinger enjoyed these chestnut hunts

because the children of the village would often attend, making for easy pickings. The hunters knew that she wouldn't be able to resist, and they lay in wait for the smoke to draw her in. But the only person who appeared was a frail old woman. At first the more rash of the young hunters wanted to shoot on, sight, but as she got closer, they recognized her from the village. So after some hushed debate, they let her pass, because if she were from the village, she would know about the pitfall and

avoid it. But she walked right into the trap, and right there before the eyes of all the hunters, she revealed herself, the great and terrible ogress of the nantahela, covered in yellow, rocky skin, stabbing her sharp finger at anyone who dared to get too close. They had caught her. Now all they had to do was kill her. This, however, proved tricky. At first, the hunters tried to shoot her with arrows. A titmouse in the trees called out to them to aim for her heart, but the arrows bounced off of her dense hide. This bird was a well-known liar, so the hunters split his tongue and sent him on his way. And then a chickadee flew down and landed on her long finger. Try as she might, she could not shake the tiny

bird off. The chickadee, by the way, was known to tell the truth. Understanding the chickadee perfectly, the men turned their arrows on Spearfinger's hand. When an arrow struck the palm, she let out a piercing scream as an incredible amount of blood poured from the wound and the chickadee flew off job done. You see, many demons or witches of the mountains knew their hearts to be vulnerable, and so they would hide them in other places of their body

so they were harder to kill, and the chickadee had discovered that Spearfinger hit hers in the clenched fist of her right hand. As a side note, it's because of this story, that the chickadee is considered a sign of good luck in Appalachia, appearing over a person's door whenever they assured of a safe passage home. Flies, on the other hand, are decidedly not good luck. And thus, the tale of Spearfinger endures as a stark reminder

that the Appalachian wilderness is as much a realm of moral caution as it is physical danger. The Cherokee Council's clever use of observation, humility, and the truth-telling chickadee turned a seemingly invincible monster, into a defeated foe, teaching that no matter how big, dangerous, or all-powerful a monster might seem, truth will always win the day. It started, as these things often do, in New Jersey, on a chill October night in 1966. Two young boys were walking home in the streets of Elizabeth, just off the turnpike,

when they reached a corner and saw him, a tall, bald-headed man standing just behind a fence, He was tall, impossibly so, it seemed, and he had a sparkling green cover-all. When he turned to the boys, he looked to be missing ears and a nose. But he also had a grin on his face, a wide, terrifying grin. The boys ran, and when they looked back, they realized that he was following them. They made it home safe, but they weren't the only ones menaced that night. In fact, a middle-aged neighbor was also chased down the very same street. It was weeks later and a handful of...

states away that the strange, grinning man made his next appearance. Woodrow Daronberger was driving home from a business trip on a rainy night in November of 66. He was outside of Parkersville, West Virginia, on Interstate 77, when he saw something strange, an unidentified flying object, which came from behind and pulled in front of his car, quickly slowing so that Darenberger had to hit the brakes and finally bring his car to a halt. The vehicle was charged. gray, some sort of metal shaped like an old-fashioned kerosene lamp. When it stopped, the side opened and a man stepped out. He looked to be 35 or 40 years old by our standards and around six feet tall.

He had dark hair and wore strange clothing that seemed to glisten in the headlights. And he stood with his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face. He walked over to Derenberger's car and telepathically, apparently, asked him to lower the window, which he did. They then proceeded to have a 10-minute conversation on the side of the highway. After asking Darenberger for his name, the grinning man asked why he seemed so scared. He meant no harm, only happiness. He said his name was Indrid Cold, and that he was visiting Earth from the planet Lannulus, located in the galaxy of Gennemites. He seemed incredibly interested in Earth and asked Darenberger a number of questions, including what the lights were in the distance.

Darrenberger told him, That's the city of Parkersburg, to which Indrid Cold replied that we call such a place a gathering. Shortly he stopped asking questions and returned to his own craft, where he was helped aboard his hovering vehicle by another set of hands.

Before departing, he left an ominous message. We will be seeing you again. Derenberger, of course, went to the police to report what he had seen and told his story to the Parker'sburg and state police, as well as officials from the Wood County Airport and Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. He wasn't the only one to see cold that night.

Another man had been flagged down by the strange grinning man, and others claimed to see strange lights and, I quote, fluttering vehicles along the same stretch of road that night. Some even corroborated his story of being stopped and talked to by a man. And this was just the beginning. Now, around the same time, another family had been visited, the Lilly family, who lived, the nearby Point Pleasant West Virginia,

which had been something of a magnet for poltergeist-like activity. Cars near their house began to stall suddenly. Lights would fly over the house regularly, and kitchen cabinets would inexplicably slam in the night. Once, a door that had been both locked and chain

locked before bed was found wide open upon the family waking up the next morning. And in the midst of all of this, Linda Lilly, the 16-year-old daughter, had a terrifying visitor. Linda's mother, was in the night to a blood-curdling scream from her daughter's room. Mr. Lily was out working on the river that night, and so Mrs. Lily went herself to investigate. She found her daughter alone,

although the girl had awakened to a man in her room just moments before. She described him as large, broad, she noted. She couldn't quite make out his face, though, only that he was grinning widely as he came around the side of the bed to stand over her. She refused to sleep alone after that. There was another sighting in West Virginia that November. Two workmen were driving home from a job site and were passed outside Parkersburg when an elongated object appeared over the highway and quickly landed in front of them, forcing their car off the road. A normal-looking man stepped out of the craft and approached the workmen. He wore a grin and a black jacket and crossed his arms over his chest and asked the men who they were, where they were from,

and what time it was. When he returned to his dark cylinder, they watched gobsmacked as it rose into the sky and flew off. Now there are theories about Indrid Cold. The prevailing one, of course, is that Cold is an extraterrestrial. Another, though, is that he's a ghost of some sort. The Lily family's experience seems to support this. And some, of course, doubt that the grinning man ever existed at all.

And although over time Woodrow Derenberger quit speaking of him, Indured Cold did not exactly go away. The Abalachian region of Eastern America is a vast expanse of possibility. There's just so much space and so many shadows that it's hard not to imagine what could be living there, lurking, haunting, and maybe even flying. Some of those fears, of course, have drifted into the past, becoming fun legends that are easy to dismiss as nothing but stories. The others, though, are harder to wave away.

You see, Indrid Cold kept his promise to Woodrow Darylberger. He came back to see him again. According to Darenberger, this extraterrestrial visitor didn't stop at one visit either, but showed up on the doorstep over and over, for dinner or just a cup of coffee, or to chat. There were other visitors like him, too, some even bringing their families by. And Derenberger wasn't always hosting. He claims to have been flown to their home planet three and a half, light years away. And the kicker, it only took an hour and a half to get there. Woodrow

Darenberger wrote a book about his experience titled Visitors from Lanyulas, where he has further expounded upon his relationship with Indrid Cold and his family. In the book, he claims that he and other Lanylusians live here on Earth, and Derenberger continued to make his trips far abroad, his family claiming that he disappeared for days or even months at a time. What finally closed their chapter on Indrid Cold was the public ridicule that Darymberger and his family faced in the wake of his claimed experiences. The prank calls and harassment led to depression and eventually divorce, with Darymberger moving away to escape at all. He never spoke to Indrid Cold again, although he never recanted his story either. And the strangest thing of all,

Indrid Cold never left West Virginia after that, haunting the hills ever since. And when he appears to people today, they say he does so with a smile. I hope today's hike into Appalachia gave you the thrill you were after. It's absolutely amazing how full of legends and creatures that vast expanse of mountainous wilderness truly is, and we barely scratched the surface today. Beyond that, the region is still generating new stories. In fact, my team and I have tracked down a newer one that still ticks all the boxes. Stick around through this brief sponsor break to hear all about it.

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for a live session based on over 1.7 million client reviews. Sign up and get 10% off at BetterHelp.com slash lore. That's BetterH-E-L-P.com slash lore. John was born at the tail end of 1865 in Tennessee. America's bloody civil war had ended mere months before. He spent his life in the Reconstruction South, and in 1888 married his second cousin, Julia Ann Griffith. They made their home in Claxton, just north of Oak Ridge,

and had four children, the last of which was named Ethel Perry. gold. Now, Ethel, at the age of mere two years old, contracted diphtheria, a disease that attacks the mucus membranes, which took her life. Following the death, Julia accused her husband of causing the girl's death. John had punished the toddler right before she had contracted the disease. Deep in grief, Julia took the surviving children and left him. They divorced in 1898. The court record stated that John Hendricks was an abuser and unfit to take care of the kids. Julia moved on to Arkansas where she remained. The loss of his family had a profound effect on John.

He said to have had a mental health crisis and even landed himself in an insane asylum in Anderson County, Tennessee later in the year. But he didn't stay there for long. John Hendricks escaped, digging out of the fence in 1901. And as he left, he shouted to the authorities that it was an evil place and that within the month, God would strike the building to burn it down. And he was right. Shortly thereafter, after the building was in fact struck by lightning and burned to the ground. Most rotored off as a wild coincidence, but John's future predictions would also have the strange habit of coming true.

He turned himself toward religion, praying devoutly, and during one of those prayers, he got an answer. It was a loud voice, and it told him to sleep on the ground for 40 days and 40 nights in exchange for knowledge about the future of Bear Creek Valley. And so he did, through near starvation and, freezing nights on the forest floor. As temperatures fell, he prayed for a sign, and after 40 nights had passed, he returned to the world, having received visions and revelations about the future. And so, John began to prophesy publicly about great changes approaching the valley, telling people

that one day it would be filled with great buildings and factories, which would help to win the greatest war America would fight, and that there would be a city on Black Oak Ridge, with a center of authority between the farms of severe Tadlock and Joe Piat. Big engines would dig deep into the earth, which would shake. He predicted railways would serve the great city, even pointing out specific places where everything would be built. His family also later claimed that he was able to predict the invention of air travel, and he made sure to tell everyone who would and would not be alive to see it. The prophecies were kept alive by word of mouth, although his prophecies were largely met with ridicule, with residents either fearing or reverexed.

veering him, although all seemed to agree that he was crazy. In 1908, John Hendricks married again this time to Martha Jane Winstead, who had seven children from a previous marriage, and together they had another, and then tragedy struck. John fell ill with tuberculosis. Fearing for their youngest son's life, Martha Jane forced John to move out to a small shack on the farm, where their oldest daughter, Perili, and her husband agreed to take care of him. As a token of their appreciation, John and Martha Jane deeded them half the farm, with the other half going to them when John died. John was not long for the world, dying later that year at the age of 49, and was buried on a hillside overlooking his orchard.

27 years later, and it looked as though John Hendricks' prophecies were very much coming true. In 1942, in the thick of the Second World War, the U.S. government launched the secret Manhattan Project, with the aim of building the world's first atomic bomb. There were three sites chosen for the project, Los Alamos, New Mexico, Hartford, Washington, and Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Why Oak Ridge? Well, for starters, it was secluded. The government needed cheap land far away from the coast, and they needed water and power, which would be provided by the nearby Tennessee Valley authorities Norris Dam and the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Line. So the government began the acquisition of land, filing a declaration of taking at the federal court in Knoxville.

Four thousand residents were evicted from their homes in this land grab, being allowed in some cases only two weeks to pack up and leave with very little offered in the way of assistance. One such eviction notice stated that, The War Department intends to take possession of your farm December 1st, 1942. It will be necessary for you to move, not later than that date. Your fullest cooperation will be a material aid to the war effort. Oh, and the recipient of that specific notice, John Hendricks' stepdaughter, Perra Lee.

Once all of the families were removed from their land, construction began in earnest to build the structures that would produce uranium 235, as well as all the buildings that would support the new city. And the center of all this, by the way, was built approximately between the farms of Tadlock and Piat, right where John Hendricks had predicted. And further, the rail line that was constructed, ran right where John said it would, making the place central to winning the greatest war mankind had fought so far. One detail he missed, though, the city on Black Oak Ridge was not in fact named Paradise. Today, many dismissed John Hendrix's legend as a bit of quirky folklore, created decades after the man's death that shouldn't be taken seriously. Regardless,

though, the story has made its way into the history of Oak Ridge, giving a city without a past, its own origin story. And in the process, supporting the sense of inevitability that came with America's atomic manifest destiny. This episode of lore legends was produced by me, Aaron Manke, with writing by Nick Tocoski and research by Jamie Vargas. Just a reminder, folks, I have a brand new history book coming out on August 4th of this year called Exhumed, which explores the roots of the New England vampire panic through the lens of centuries of folklore, medical advancements, and pseudoscience. It's available for pre-order right now, and if you pre-order the hardcover, my publisher has a cool web page setup to submit your receipt and get a free, gorgeous tote bag.

Head over to Aaron Mankey.com slash Exhumed to lock in your copy today. The link is in the description from this episode. Don't like hearing ads on lore. There is a paid version on Apple podcasts and Patreon that's 100% ad-free. Subscribers there also get weekly mini bonus episodes called Lorbites, and Patreon members get discounts on lore merch. Learn more over at lorepodcast.com slash support. Follow the show on YouTube threads, Blue Sky, and Instagram. Just search for lore podcast, all one word, and click that follow button.

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