Local legend whispers of a ghostly hermit, a spectral figure who continues to guard the cave he once called home, even from beyond the grave. But this isn’t just any restless spirit.
There are hints that the ghost may have been more than a mere recluse; he may have once been an important figure within Melungeon mythology, a mysterious and often misunderstood community.
The tale centers around the ghost of Old Man Joe, a cranky and reclusive hermit said to have lived in the cave, often depicted as violent and irritable in his old age. According to legend,
his spirit still haunts the cave, aggressively rushing at trespassers with a chilling cry, "Get out of my cave!" Locals say his ghost is far from friendly, and the mere sight of him is enough
to send shivers down the spine of anyone who dares approach the cave.
An intriguing twist to this tale comes from an old article in The Greeneville Sun dated July 28, 1956. The story recounts a local legend that dates back many years, in which an old
man ventured into the cave to “fiddle the Devil a tune.” It was rumored that the cave itself hid rich veins of gold deep inside, but the treasure could only be accessed with the aid of an
infernal being. The hermit, seeking to strike a deal with the Devil himself, was never seen again.
This story has sparked the idea that Old Man Joe’s ghost might be tied to another figure in Melungeon folklore, the enigmatic “Fool Killer.”
The legend of Fool Killer, a fearsome and enigmatic figure, was first popularized in the 1840s and 1850s by political cartoonist and editor Charles Napoleon Bonaparte Evans of The Milton
Chronicle in North Carolina. Evans created a version of Fool Killer named Jesse Holmes, a roving avenger who haunted the Appalachian regions of North Carolina, Virginia, Kentucky, and West
Virginia. With a club that doubled as a walking stick, Holmes would hunt down those he deemed “fools” and punish them with brutal efficiency. His weapon of choice, a Bowie knife, was used
not only for killing but also for marking his victims, carving the words “Fool Killer” into their flesh as a grim signature of his deeds.
Initially, Fool Killer’s targets were Confederate sympathizers and individuals who mistreated enslaved people, but as the country descended into the chaos of the Civil War, the character faded
from public view between 1861 and 1870. When he reappeared in the years following the war, his vendetta turned to the Ku Klux Klan, those who mistreated Black families, and men who abused their
wives. His bloodlust seemed boundless, and his role as an enforcer of justice in an unjust world only grew more pronounced.
However, the origin of Fool Killer’s legend runs even deeper. Many believe that the character was inspired by a figure within Melungeon culture, a unique and often misunderstood community
with ties only to the Appalachian region. In these tales, Fool Killer was the son of the Devil, known to the Melungeons as “Old Horny.” Fool Killer’s story begins with a childhood spent
under his father’s watchful eye, before he eventually set out to confront him. Following a trail that led him to a blacksmith shop in eastern Tennessee, Fool Killer, concealing his true
identity, ordered a large iron staff, promising to pay with gold, a treasure that Old Horny himself had heard the Melungeons hid in the mountains. When the staff was finished, Fool Killer
turned on his father, beating him “back to Hell.”
After his victory, Fool Killer topped his staff with a gold skull and retreated to a cave, where he would live between his acts of vengeance. He became a mythic figure, both feared and
revered, whose wrath was unleashed on those who dared to cross the Melungeon people. Fool Killer would strike down anyone searching for the legendary gold caches of the Melungeons, government
agents who sought to shut down their secretive gold refineries, and law enforcement officers trying to dismantle the illicit moonshine stills operating during Prohibition.
But Fool Killer’s wrath wasn’t limited to outsiders. In his subculture, he was said to hold power over men whose wives had strayed. According to legend, Fool Killer would appear to a
man who had just learned of his wife’s infidelity, waving his staff to summon a curse. Small horns would begin to grow from the man’s head, and the only way to rid himself of the horns was to
kill the man his wife had been with. If the man failed in his quest for vengeance, Fool Killer would punish him further, shooting him, cutting off the horns, and keeping them as trophies in his
cave.
As the years passed, Fool Killer’s legend continued to evolve. During the Great Depression, his wrath turned toward anyone who threatened the insular Melungeon subculture. Teachers,
outsiders, and even radio entertainers who ventured too close to the mountains found themselves in danger. Fool Killer was no longer just a figure of revenge. He had become a protector of
a way of life, a symbol of justice for the marginalized community.
By the time the legend began to fade, Fool Killer had transformed into a mysterious and intimidating figure, often described as a man dressed in black, carrying guns, knives, and his infamous
staff. He was said to ride a black horse or travel in a horse-drawn carriage, his presence as haunting as the myths that surrounded him. Though his story has now faded into obscurity, the
figure of Fool Killer remains a part of Appalachian folklore, a powerful and enigmatic symbol of justice, revenge, and the defense of subcultural heritage.
The legend of Old Man Joe, the mysterious figure who called a cave his home, is a tale that has shifted and evolved over the years, growing more enigmatic with each retelling. Some believe
the story of Old Man Joe may have originated from an even older legend, that of Ephraim “Eph” Davis, a so-called "wildman" who lived in a cave on the borders of Greene County, Tennessee, and Madison
County, North Carolina, as well as Fool Killer. According to an article in The Greeneville Sun on October 2, 1943, Water Fork, Davis and Jennings Creek Residents, written by D. D.
Alexander, Eph’s story had already become legendary by the time the article was published. Known to locals as the "wildman of Bald Mountains," Eph Davis became a near-mythical figure, his life
and home intertwined with the landscape itself.
Eph Davis lived in a cave, later dubbed "Eph's Den," at the head of a creek that would bear his name, Davis Creek. The cave, situated on the state line and on the trail leading to Round
Knob, was a place of solitude. Eph, described by locals as resembling "Father Time" with long, flowing hair and a thick beard, was rarely seen by anyone, which only fueled the rumors
surrounding him. His appearance, like his way of life, was said to be as wild and untamed as the mountains themselves.
Interestingly, Eph's tale may have also contributed to another, even more intriguing legend, the story of a lost treasure hidden deep in the mountains. The Greeneville Sun article
also recounts the tale of Enoch and Bill Hopkins, blacksmiths from nearby Camp Creek who were accused of counterfeiting silver coins. According to folklore, the Hopkins brothers discovered an
old silver mine in the Bald Mountains. The mine, they believed, contained rich veins of silver ore, and rumors quickly spread that Enoch had found a hidden treasure deep in the cliffs of the
region.
It was said that after Enoch passed away in his 90s, a mysterious treasure was hidden in a cliff near his home, sealed away by a chiseled marking. Legends grew that if you struck the cliff
with a hammer, the sound of silver ringing would echo back, indicating the treasure’s presence. Buck Moncier, a man obsessed with the tale, reportedly spent his entire life searching for the
elusive silver hoard, though it was never found.
The folklore surrounding Eph Davis, the lost silver mine, and Old Man Joe all became intertwined over time. As the legend of Old Man Joe evolved, elements of Eph’s story, the treasure hunt,
and the wild, untamed landscape all fed into the myth. The idea of a man living in seclusion, guarding secrets buried deep in the land, merged seamlessly with the story of a wild hermit
protecting hidden treasure. Whether the gold veins said to be buried in the depths of Cedar Creek Cave were ever truly there, or if the treasure was simply a figment of a wandering imagination,
it became part of the fabric of the region’s lore.
Today, the legend of Old Man Joe lives on, a tale that has blended the real, the imagined, and the supernatural into a captivating story of a wild man, a hidden treasure, and a cave that once held
the secrets of both. As each new generation hears the tale, the line between truth and myth continues to blur, ensuring that Old Man Joe remains an enigmatic figure in local folklore for years
to come.