Cultural
Background Storyteller's Cabin
Suddenly a new voice shouted from behind the crowd: "Stop it!" The men turned to find Seaborn Goodall approaching them. Mr. Goodall was a teetotaler and a deeply religious man, but he was also a hard worker just like the other men, and had therefore earned their respect. "This preacher may have made you mad, but that doesn't mean you should break the law. Let him stay with my family tonight. I promise he'll be gone in the morning, and won't ever bother you again."
The drunken men looked at each other, then reluctantly shoved Lorenzo away toward Mr. Goodall. "You're a lucky man, Preacher," one of them said. "You best do as he says and be out of here come mornin'. Or there will be a hangin'."
So Lorenzo stayed that night with the Goodall family, relieved yet angry. In all his years of preaching, never had he visited a town that was so beyond hope, so trapped in its wicked ways. In his mind, the townsfolk of Jacksonboro were simply beyond redemption - except for the kind Mr. Goodall, of course.
The next morning, Lorenzo emerged from the Goodall home and prepared his horse for departure. The angry crowd from the previous night had returned to the Goodall home, watching Lorenzo with foggy, bloodshot eyes, making sure he was really leaving for good. Lorenzo climbed onto his horse and rode slowly to the edge of the town, the snickering crowd following closely behind him. When he reached the town limits he suddenly stopped, removed one of his shoes, and with dramatic flair shook the dust from the bottom.
"I came here to help save you from your sin," he cried out, "but you would not receive me. So I have no choice but to shake the dust of this wicked town off my feet. Your town is hereby cursed - it will wither and die from its wickedness. So sayeth the Lord."
He then pointed at the Goodall house and said, "But the Goodall house will remain. For they received me and heard my voice."
Waves of laughter erupted from the townspeople as Lorenzo galloped away. Then they turned and walked back to town. And as the months went by, the story of the crazy preacher always guaranteed a hearty round of laughs in the local taverns. But for the most part, his warning was forgotten.
That is, until a series of strange and destructive fires began plaguing the town. When the first home burned to the ground, everyone thought it was a freak accident, or a lightning strike. Or maybe some drunken fool who fell asleep smoking a cigarette. But then another home burned down, followed by another, then several more - all without explanation. The fires were followed by vicious storms that destroyed even more buildings.
And what nature didn't destroy, the local economy did. The lumber industry slowed down, and the men in town lost their jobs. Then the townspeople suddenly remembered the parting words of the crazy preacher. And whether it was from fear, or the lack of jobs, the remaining families began moving out one by one until the town of Jacksonboro died away.
You won't find Jacksonboro, Georgia on a map today. The county seat moved to Sylvania many years ago, and today there is not one marker indicating where Jacksonboro used to be. It's as if the town simply vanished off the face of the earth.
Except for one building, that is. On a dirt road where the town once stood, you'll find a lone, white clapboard house. There's nothing remarkable about it, until you find out that its previous owner was none other than Seaborn Goodall, the man whose kindness saved him from the curse of Lorenzo Dow.
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