A Legend or a Tall Tale

The Dungarvon River 

Dungarvon Whooper

A New Brunswick Ghost Story from the Miramichi.

The Dungarvon River begins in Central Northeastern New Bronswick and is a small fast flowing river that travels almost 100 Km before entering into the main Southwest Miramichi via the Renous River. 

It was a cold winter and the snow was deep in the woods surrounding the logging camp near the Dungarvon River. But there was plenty of game to be found if you were a good hunter, so the men didn't go hungry. The camp cook was a jolly fellow, and quite rich for a logger. He kept his life savings in a money belt that he wore at all times.

Now an Irish lumberjack named Ryan coveted the cook's money and concocted a plan to get it. He was the best hunter in camp, and he promised to teach the cook his secrets. The two men set off one Sunday on a hunting trip. When they were deep in the woods, Ryan turned his rifle on the cook and shot him dead. Then he took the money belt off the body, hacked his way through the ice and snow, and buried it deep in the ground.

When he returned to camp alone, Ryan told his fellow loggers that they had been attacked by a bear. Ryan claimed to have been knocked out by a glancing blow, and said that when he came to, he found that the cook had been dragged away. Ryan told the lumberjacks that he had tried to track the bear, but a snowstorm had obliterated the tracks. Search parties were sent out, but they found no trace of the dead cook. Meanwhile, Ryan made himself scarce while the men were out searching, and no one ever found out where he went.

At sundown that night, the lumberjacks heard a terrible screaming coming from everywhere at once, and from nowhere. The men recognized the voice as that of the cook. They searched desperately for the man as the screams grew louder and louder, but there were no tracks in the snow save their own. After ten minutes, the screams stopped as abruptly as they started.

The men searched again in the morning for the cook, but could find no trace of him. At dusk that night, the screams began again. The men were terrified, and decided that it must be the ghost of the cook screaming in terror. By this time, they knew that Ryan was gone from the camp, and the lumberjacks began to question the Irishman's story of the bear attack.

At dusk every evening for several weeks, the ghost of the cook shrieked out his terror and rage over his murder. All action in the logging camp ceased at the first sound of the "Dungarvon Whooper," as the ghost came to be called, and no one dared move until the sound died away. At the first sign of spring, the logger's packed up camp and hurried away.

The ghost was not heard so frequently after the camp was disbanded, but local residents were still subjected every so often to the terrible screams of the Dungarvon Whooper. The ghost hung around the region for many years, and the residents finally called in a priest to lay the spirit to rest. The holy man prayed over the area and tried to exorcise the spirit with bell, book, and candle, but the ghost was too strong for him, and he left in defeat.

To this day, people living in the Miramichi country sometimes hear the eerie screaming of the Dungarvon Whooper when they walk outside at dusk.

This tale was passed along to us by Eric (Rick) Carr 

"This Is My Tall Tale"

by

Bonnie Anderson Cogswell 

The year was 1964, 1965 'ish. 

The time of year....summer. 

The time of day....mid afternoon. 

The day....probably a Saturday or Sunday.  Why, you may ask?...Because the older cast members aren't working.

The place.....our back door yard.  Yes, I said "dooryard".  This saying has to be a "Herring Choker's".   Definitely not a "Bluenoser" saying.

The Cast

Bonnie Cogswell

Blaine Cogswell

Jimmie Cogswell

Richard Simpson

Dougie Simpson

Joey Simpson  (maybe)

Bobby Dickinson (maybe)

Garry Dickinson (maybe)

The 'boys' had a habit of congregating at different places.  They would talk about their cars, their breakdowns, their racing up the by-pass.  You know....the regular stuff that guys in their late teens do.  Yes, they probably talked about 'girls' too. 

Well on this day they happened to gather in our yard.  The scene opens with all these spotlessly clean cars all parked in front of our big barn in the back door yard.  Their is also dad's trucks, a bulldozer and a loader vying for space in the yard.  One of dad's 3 ton trucks was parked closer to the house and just underneath the clothesline.  Parked behind this truck?....you guessed it; all those PURDY CARS.

Just so happens that mom and I were doing a wash this beautiful, sunny day.  No dryer back then; ONLY THE CLOTHESLINE. 

I dragged a huge clothes basket full of clothes out to the stoop to hang them out.  Looked and saw that the truck was in the way.  The obvious thing for me to do?.....holler over to the bunch of hoodlums standing around smoking their cigarettes and laughing.   Only being 13 or 14; I didn't have a driving license nor had ever driven a vehicle.  I hollered over and asked Jim or Blaine to move the truck.  "Yeah, in a minute", was the response.  I waited and waited and waited but, neither one made a move towards the truck.  I hollered over again.  "Yeah, yeah, yeah, in a sec" was the response. 

By this time little sister was growing impatient and thinking I should get the keys to the truck, start it up and move it myself.  The thought actually scared the daylights out of me but, at the same time...it would look good on them.   Again, I hollered over and said, "Blaine, Jim....move the truck or I will." 

It got their attention but, only long enough for the bunch of them to take in to laughing at the thought of me trying to drive this great big 3 ton truck. 

THAT'S ALL I NEEDED!!!  I dropped the clothespin bag, stomped down the stoop steps and over to the truck.  The boys, at this time, hadn't noticed me getting in.   The keys were in the ignition.  My mind is trying to remember what dad or the boys did before, during and after starting this thing.  Okay, put it in neutral.  To do that I had to first push in the clutch with my left foot but make sure I had my right foot on the brake.  Okay....I can do this.  I only weighed 98 lbs at the time but, I'm sure I had 200 lbs of pressure on those peddles.  I turned the key.  My heart almost jumped out of my chest; the truck started.  Dear God keep me safe.  I grabbed the shift and grinded the motor into 1st; just like it showed on the shift knob.  TOO EASY!!  I looked into the rear view mirror.....the guys were still standing there but, their lower jaws were hanging open and their eyes were all as big as saucers.  I gave the truck some gas, let out the clutch.....IT STALLED!  Oh Dear Heavens.......I can't quit now.  Turned the key again and vroom.  Put it into gear and let up on the clutch.  THE TRUCK WAS MOVING BACKWARDS.  YEAH!!!!  I looked into the rear view mirror and all I could see was people running to their cars and spinning their tires to get the heck out of my way. 

Now, I only had to move the truck 5 or 6 feet and did just that but, those boys weren't taking any chances.  I can still see them all scattering.  Too funny. 

Admittedly, I have to thank Blaine and Jim.  The event of that day instilled in me a determination that I could do anything, if I put my mind to it.   It was also an eye-opener for my brothers.  DON'T PUSH LITTLE SISTER'S BUTTONS!!!

Exhibition Memories

  Every one of us has special memories of the Fredericton Exhibition. Depending on your likes or dislikes, memories will vary, and of course there will be those whose memory will be affected by different sights, smells and sounds of those days. The Merry-Go Round for example had a sound that no one could forget. Then there were the low moans and high pitched screams coming for the Haunted House. Who could forget some fellow within the gaming booths saying “Hey, hey, right this way, don't be shy, give it a try. Three for a quarter, nine for a dollar”. Do the math people, it was cheaper to spend four quarters individually, but who paid any attention, most of us spent the dollar anyway. Oh the hot dogs, cotton candy, and the taffy apples, were a must have at any exhibition, but it always had to be after a trip to the livestock barns before Mom or Dad would let us have any of the above. Whew, what were they thinking? 

  Yes friends we all have fond and not so fond memories of the old EX, but there is always one that sticks out no matter how many memories we have. Let me tell you of one that I shall never forget. To do this I’m going to set the stage so you will get a clear and vivid picture.

  Back in the early 60s, my dad owned a red 1959 GMC truck. A cap had been built on the back with a seat, minus seat belts of course, and it was common in those days to let people ride in the back. This particular cap over the box did not have a door or lift cover over the tail gate. You could see everything that was behind you and there was fresh air, thank God. That being said let's go back to the exhibition. 

  It was a nice day in September and as usual, Labor Day was the favorite of many to attend. It was just before school opening again, and what a great way to end the summer holidays. When we were much younger, Reece and I had to be led around, or dragged around by Mom and Dad. It was usually up to Mom to do this as Dad would be off in the livestock barns looking up old friends or trying to establish new ones. It wasn't until we were twelve or thirteen that we were allowed to wander about by ourselves. So, somewhere around that age, a couple of young pups were now able to go freely as long as we would meet Mom at a predetermined spot to check in every now and then. We did get on rides and by now we were able, and tall enough to participate in some of the available games. “Hey, hey, right this way, don't be shy, give it a try”. Temptation has spoken; you either listen up, step up, or loose a chance to win who knows what. Luck doesn't have much to do with winning anything at the exhibition, you either win or lose. I don't remember what game I chose to play but when all was said and done, I stood with one of the largest old stogies I have ever seen. Yes you heard me correctly, I had one big fat cigar in my hand for doing something, although I had my eye on a stuffed toy or something else, I wound up with this. Now most young boys would turn something like this over to an adult, or maybe their dad. Not me, I had other ideas. LOL… On the way home, after an exhausting day at the EX and while in the back of my dads truck, I took this cigar out and showed it to Reece. He being two years younger than me, thought I was completely nuts. 

  From Fredericton to Geary is approximately a half hour drive. That should give me plenty of time to light up, enjoy, or at least get a taste of what the adult world was all about. Now at that time there was no bypass in existence, you had to drive through Lincoln, and the neighboring communities to get home. I'm not sure if many of you remember the Irving Restaurant and Gas Bar in Lincoln, the one that had the big “EAT” sign with an arrow flashing on and off. That just happened to be Dads favorite place to stop, fuel up and if the mood was right, get something to eat. I hadn't counted on this stop that particular day, but it could have been the steady stream of smoke, that was drifting from the rear of the truck, that prompted him to pull over. TOO LATE, I knew I was caught and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. 

  Dad was a big man, but he was as gentle as a lamb. He didn't lose his cool much, so when he kind of rolled out of the drivers seat and headed to the back of the truck, I knew there was some hope for me. When he rounded the corner, I had my hand stuck out with this big old cigar in it, and I kindly offered it up to him. As he was reaching out for it he said” What's the matter young fella, to much for ya”? I’m not sure what color I was. There was some green from smoking, some red from embarrassment and fear, and there could have been some purple as well. All I knew at that point was that there would be no black and blue as the result of my experiment. You could have heard a pin drop and Reece’s mouth just hung open like that of a yawning Rhinoceros. Surprisingly enough, I don't think anything was ever mentioned to Mom. Whew, I had been spared. 

  Yes, we all have our memories of the old Fredericton EX and each of us has special memories. Not that anything would turn out differently but, I'd give anything to relive this one. I can't remember when I smoked my last cigar, but every time I do, I remember the Fredericton Exhibition.

Hope you have enjoyed this. It's not a tall tale, but it sure is a tall memory. 

Thanks, Geo Donovan  

September, 12^th, 2011