The Crying Woman of Persimmon Valley - Eastern Kentucky

Deep in the heart of Eastern Kentucky lies a small, secluded valley. A quiet place tucked in the hills miles from any highway. The sides of this valley are lined with Persimmon trees, many planted long ago, that offer a mark of uniqueness to this valley on their own. During the late summer months past, as the pungent fruit began to ripen, people were once drawn from all over to pick the fruit. But, in many recent years, valleys like these have become more forgotten as people prefer not to stray too far from their electronic devices and wireless coverage. But some still do visit to find temporary refuge from all the noise of modern society. These adventurers make it a custom to visit during autumn to see the leaves of the persimmon trees turn bright yellow and red, making a beautiful mountain picture.

Some believe that not all is beautiful in Persimmon Valley though or, at least, not always cheery and serene. During the hours of some autumn evenings, during the twilight and unto darkness, one may just hear the spectral cries of a young woman coming from an indiscernible direction. In the past, many people have looked for her, thinking a young woman may have been in some trouble. They'd search, unable to pinpoint where her sparse cries were coming from and thus they were unable to find where she was. Many people have experienced that indiscernible cry, where the crying did seem to come from where ever they were not standing. One experience by a young man went as such, "I’d hear the sobbing of a young woman and it seemed to be coming from the upper end of the valley, but when I got to the upper end, it sounded as if it was coming from the lower end. I chased that sound all over that valley one night."

No one has ever seen the crying woman but many have heard her weeping. Sometimes the weeping can go on for hours here and there and other times only for a short interval. On some occasions, you can hear the weeping fade out as if it is slipping away into the ether. Many families have sought to purchase the property but when they find out about the dispirited sounds that emanate from the branches of the Persimmons and elsewhere within the haunted hollow, they change their minds.

One local legend tells the tale of a young couple that had moved into the region from northern Maine. They had just gotten married and were looking for a place to begin their life. When they rode by the valley, they both immediately fell in love with the hollow. That evening they camped under the branches of the largest Persimmon tree. Unknown to them, while they dreamt of their future home, they were spotted by a few Cherokee who had crept upon them. Before they could begin to fight, one of the Cherokee engaged with the young man then cut him down with stabs and slashes of their knife. Then they proceeded to scalp him. He fell to the ground, blood gushing from his head and multiple wounds. It is then said that they tied the young woman to the tree and left her there in those woods. She was helpless as she watched the last ounces of life drain from her husband. The Cherokee, who reacted out of frustration of encroachment on their lands, never came back to take her into captivity. Since this region of Kentucky, amongst the hills of the Appalachians, was sparsely populated the woman would have died from starvation before anyone found her.

It is told that the spirit of this young bride made its imprint and still roams the valley, crying for her husband as he had laid dying. Her tragedy marking itself upon the environment with every weight of her spiritual energy as she faded from starvation.

Today, a more established highway passes by the valley that lies amongst the forested roadsides. A highway on the path of what once was a dirt wagon trail. Its passengers, completely unaware of the history and everything else that they're passing through. Those persimmon trees still produce their fruits in the early fall. They become less noticed each year. Their leaves provide a beautiful sight for any motorists who stop to hike. And, in the still of the night, when all the cars have stopped making their way past the valley, one can hear the faint sobbing of that young woman, crying for her lost love.

Read a similar tale:
Legend of Murder Creek in Akron, New York - The Tragedy of Ah-weh-hah