 |
Storyteller's Cabin |
Now you might think this is the end of the story, but there's one more important part to tell. Bear with me, but we're now going to need to jump to modern times and a local man named Chuck Morse.
There are a few things about Chuck you should know. He did a couple tours of duty in Vietnam and came back with a disfigured right arm, thanks to an unfortunate napalm accident. He also brought back a few scars that didn't show, things he wouldn't talk about. But whatever happened to him, the promise he'd shown in school and the bright future all his teachers knew was coming his way vanished into thin air.
Since coming back to the States, he never could hold a job for more than a few months. So he tried one get-rich-quick scheme after another. He illegally planted potatoes on a neighbor's land to sell to the one of the large potato chip companies. He did some electrical repairs at another neighbor's house and nearly burned the place down, after lying that he was a certified electrician. When too much trouble followed him, he'd disappear and find work on the oil pipelines in places like Saudi Arabia or Alaska. He'd come home flush with cash, quickly blow it all, and would be right back at square one.
It was during one of these visits back home, while sitting at the bar at the local VFW, that his life changed forever. While nursing a beer, thinking about what scheme he could come up with next, Chuck didn't notice that an old World War 2 veteran had slid up beside him.
"Hey, Chuck," said the old timer. "Ever seen a piece o' gold like this?"
Chuck looked down at the old timer's hands, and his jaw dropped. The old man was holding one of the largest gold nuggets Chuck had ever seen. Must be worth thousands of dollars, he reckoned.
The old timer noticed Chuck's envious gaze and shoved the rock back in his pocket. Chuck gave a low whistle and said "Man! Where'd you get that?"
"My grandson found it up near Poole's Mill Bridge the other day when he went up there with his daddy," the old man answered. "Way I hear it, there's a lot more up there if you're willing to dig for it."
"What do you mean?" Chuck asked.
The old timer said a man named BJ Corliss who ran the Cherokee tourist museum out on Interstate 20 had told him about the gold. BJ regularly dug around Poole's Mill for arrowheads and other artifacts, and was shocked one day to dig up a nugget right near where the old millstone was buried up in the creek bank. BJ reasoned that Cherokee George Welch had buried a huge stash of gold that he'd panned from the river, hoping to return one day.
"Why doesn't that guy dig up the rest of it and put it in his museum?" Chuck asked.
"'Cause the county built that park up there, and the police keep a close eye on it during the daytime. And there ain't no way in hell he's gonna dig for it at night."
Chuck drained his beer and laughed. "You know, they got this new invention called a flashlight..."
"...It ain't that," answered the old timer. "He's scared of the Blue Girl."
Return to top
