As retold by Hannah From

I love fall! It’s by far my favorite time of year. Hot apple cider, warm sweaters, and stories remind me of this season.  This photograph is of the farm my family helped tend and where I spent the first years of my life and we told each other stories.  My dad used to tell me this story all the time growing up. He first heard it from a man named Bud Stanley from Wise County, Virginia.

So get your favorite sweater and a cup of your hot drink of preference and enjoy!

This is the story of Wicked John.

There once was a man who lived way up in the mountains who ran a blacksmith shop. He was said to be the best smithy who ever lived, but he was so mean that everyone took to calling him Wicked John.

He was so mean he made cats hiss and dogs cower by just walking by. It was said he could sour milk by just looking at it. If not for his temperament he would have been very popular, after all he was quite a looker!

Now, he was mean to just about everyone except for strangers. If any of his neighbors came to visit he would give them dirty dishwater to drink and send them away. But if a stranger came a-calling, looking for a meal or a place to stay, he would make sure they had a good rest and a full belly.

Well, one day a stranger dressed in rags came up the road and passed right in front of Wicked John’s house. Upon seeing him John invited him in and fed him cornbread and soup beans and for dessert, a beautiful buttermilk pie.

After they were done the stranger suddenly began to change. His posture straightened up and his rags turned to a bright white robe. He then turned to Wicked John and said, “Well, John, I figure you probably know who I am now.”

John hadn’t the slightest idea who this stranger was after all, his shadow hadn’t ever darkened any church door.

“I’m St. Peter, the guardian to the gate of heaven,” the stranger said, “and in return for your kind hospitality I’d like to give you three wishes.”

Now, Wicked John had to think about this for a moment since this wasn’t something that happened every day.

Finally, he turned to St. Peter and said, “Well, Peter you see that hammer over there in my workshop? There are boys who like to come down here and take it out to the field and see how many big rocks they can break with it. They leave it out there to rust and I have to go down there to find it. So I wish that anyone who touches my hammer will get stuck to it and have to hammer away until I say ‘Stop!’”

St. Peter looked at Wicked John and shook his head in a sad sort of way and then snapped his fingers.

Wicked John was getting a bit excited thinking about the possibilities. “For my next wish, you see that rocking chair on the porch? That’s my rocking chair and there are no count loafers who like to come down here and rock back and forth and back and forth and I don’t like it one bit. I wish to make it so if anyone but me sits in my chair they’ll get stuck and get rocked around like something crazy until I say ‘Stop!’”

St. Peter looked at Wicked John and shook his head in a sad sort of way and then snapped his fingers.

“Now,” said Wicked John, “you see that thorn bush over there out there in the yard? There are folks who like to come down here and take switches for their horses. I wish to make it so if anyone but me tries to break off a piece of that bush, the bush will grab a hold of them. The bush stick all of their thorns and prickly parts into them until I say ‘Stop!’”

St. Peter snapped his fingers and said, “May God be with you, John. I pray for your soul.” And then he disappeared.

St. Peter hadn’t been gone but five minutes when a baby devil came heading down the road toward Wicked John’s house.

Wicked John called out to the baby devil, “Well, howdy there.”

“Howdy, Wicked John,” said the baby devil. “My daddy says you’re a very bad man. You have to come with me now. It’s your time.”

“Well,” said Wicked John, “I have to finish up some work before I go anywhere and I could use your help. If you help me I’ll go with you.”

The little devil ran over to the hammer, giggled, and picked it up. The hammer started swinging around like something crazy and the little devil tried to put it down but he couldn’t let it go. He just kept swinging it and swinging it.

“Wicked John, help me! Help me!” cried out the little devil.

But Wicked John didn’t pay him any mind. He just went about his work.

A few hours go by and the baby devil says, “Wicked John, please let me go! I’ll go and tell my daddy that you aren’t coming! You’ll never see me here again!”

So, Wicked John says, “Stop!”

And the baby devil takes off arunning as fast as he could.

Well, a few hours later, down the road comes another little devil, this one was a bit taller, a bit older, probably a teenage devil.

Wicked John spied him coming and he called out to him, “Well, howdy there.”

“Howdy, Wicked John,” said the second little devil. “My daddy says you’re a very bad man. You have come with me. It’s your time.”

“Well,” said Wicked John, “I have to finish up some work first.”

“No,” said the second devil, “I’m not falling for that. I’m not doing any work for you!”

“Alright,” says Wicked John. “Then, why don’t you go over on the porch and sit down for a while? I’ll be done soon and then I’ll go along with you.”

The second little devil ran over to the rocking chair, giggled, and plopped down. The chair began to swing around, rocking back and forth like something crazy. The little devil tried to get up but realized he was stuck.

“Wicked John, help me! Help me!” cried out the little devil in the chair.

But Wicked John didn’t pay them any mind. He just smiled and went about his business.

A day goes by and the little devil cried out, “Wicked John, Wicked John! You let me go and I’ll tell my daddy that you aren’t coming! You’ll never see me again!”

“Stop!” said Wicked John, and the chair stopped rocking and the second little devil took off a running as fast as he could!

Well, a few hours later down the road comes the devil, Old Scratch himself.

Wicked John spied him coming and he called out, “Well, howdy Devil.”

“Howdy, Wicked John,” said the Devil. “I’ve come to get you. You have to come with me right now. I ain’t playing games.”

“Well,” says Wicked John, “I guess we’ll have to fight then. But not here in my shop, Let’s go outside.”

So they headed outside and Wicked John said, “Now, whatever you do, Devil, don’t break off a piece of that thorn bush and whip me with it. Anything but that!”

“Anything but that you say?” said the Devil with a smile.

He went right over to the thorn bush and broke off a switch, and that bush grabs him and puts all its thorns and prickly things into him.

“Wicked John, help me! Help me!” cried out the Devil. “Let me go!”

But Wicked John didn’t pay them any mind. He just smiled and went about his business.

Wicked John left the Devil out there for a whole week.

Finally, the Devil said, “John, you tell this thorn bush to let me go and me and my boys won’t bother you anymore!”

“Alright, Devil, you got yourself a deal!” says Wicked John and then he yells, “Stop!” and the thorn bush lets him go, and the Devil takes to running as fast as he can.

And none of them came to bother him anymore.

 

Many years went by and Wicked John got older and older. Finally, it was time for John to travel to the other side.

So he made his way up to Heaven, and there he met St. Peter at the gate.

“Well, Howdy there, Peter,” Wicked John called out. “Can you let me in?”

“Oh, John,” said St. Peter. “You’ve done so many bad things in your life. You’re not welcome here. You might want to try downstairs.”

So John headed down to Hell. The little devils were out by the gate playing with their chains and they saw Wick John coming. They ran inside to their daddy and said, “Hurry, hurry close the gates. Wicked John is coming! Don’t let him in!”

The Devil came and met Wicked John at the gate.

“Well, Howdy there, Devil,” Wicked John said. “Can you let me in?”

“Oh, John,” said the Devil. “You’re so wicked you can’t come in here.”

“Well, then what am I supposed to do?” cried out Wicked John. “Ain’t no place in heaven or in hell for me!”

The devil took his tongs and fished into the fire and pulled out one of his hottest flames.

“Here,” said the Devil, thrusting the flame towards Wicked John. “Take this and get out of here. Go take this flame and your hammer and raise a Hell of your own.”

 

You’re probably wondering where Wicked John went after that.

There are all sorts of speculations that folks have made, but I’ll tell you what my dad says.

When you see the moon and it’s a yellow or an orange color that’s just Wicked John trying to find place to make a Hell of his own.