He sat tall in the saddle, extra tall.
Dressed in the darkest black, his chalky white and stone-like face
contrasted starkly with his very fine formal suit and high
silk hat. He sat straight as the sighing pines around him as
he rode slowly along on a large, sleek black horse. His
gaze was always forward. He never gave the slightest
indication that he saw or recognized anyone he met
in the road or trail, or who might stand by his wayside.
He always appeared on Easter Sunday. It might be at
daybreak, high noon, or at twilight, but for years, not an
Easter passed on Mt.Sherman but that someone reported
a sighting of the strange black rider. He followed no
certain pathway. He might be on the country road,
down a back lane or trail, or riding thru open fields or
in the deep woods.

His dress alone was enough to send shivers down brave spines.
As one lady put it, nothing outside the graveyard looked like that
in the area at the time, and not many in the graveyard were dressed
that way.

Once, a Methodist minister met the black-dressed rider on a lonely
back trail. Thinking he must have met another man of the cloth,
maybe even a bishop, he called heartily to him.
Almost instantly, both the sleek black horse and its equally
black-dressed rider rose straight upward into the air.
When about tree top high they suddenly disappeared. That
preacher quickly rode on, hoping to reach home before dark!
It was years and long after the black-dressed rider was no
longer seen at Mt.Sherman, before he told of his strange
experience.

Over the years it became more apparent that what at first
was thought to be an eccentric stranger passing thru the
country, was indeed something not of this world. Many folks
stayed in all day Easter Sundays hoping to avoid seeing the
ghosty rider. Others who scoffed at such fear, went along
trails and roads most of the day hoping (they said) to catch
a glimpse of the tall horseman. But it was noticed that
such persons usually went in groups of a half dozen or so.
But the phantom traveler never appeared to those who looked
for him. He was only seen by chance travelers who were
usually alone at the time of encounter.

But the "hant" served a useful purpose or two.
Half grown "youngins" were told that if they didn't behave,
the old black-dressed rider would get them. And young folks who
were overly concerned with courting often heard the
admonition,"Be shore and git in afore dark falls or the old
black-dressed rider may ketch ye along the road sommers,
even iffen hit ain't Easter Sunday".

On least on one occasion, Ab Phillips, a noted Methodist minister
of the area (great uncle of this writer), was mistaken
for the dreaded black-dressed horseman. He had preached
that Easter Sunday at Low Gap, but was to have dinner with
a family that lived near present Mt. Sherman school.

A neighbor lad of that family was strolling in the woods
that morning near their home and close by the country road.
At the sound of hoof beats, he looked up to see a straight-sitting
and black-clothed man, riding along on a sleek black horse.
That lad bolted thru the woods like a chased deer, raced across an
orchard and lunged wildly into the neighbor's yard.
Most of the family had gathered on the long, narrow, front porch to
await the arrival of the beloved old mountain preacher, and of
course, were in anxious anticipation of the chicken and dumplings
which simmered on the kitchen hearth.

Jumping onto that porch and dashing quickly on thru
the dog trot (open hallway) the terrified lad called out that the
"old black-dressed rider was jist ahind him." Well, that boy
soon had all that family "jist ahind" him as they all tore across
the backyard thru the garden, and into the thick bushes beyond
it.

When Uncle Ab Phillips arrived at the front gate, he was
greeted by a friendly dog and the tantalizing smell of hot
chicken and dumplings. But strangely enough, there did not
seem to be a soul around. Finally though the father of that family,
peered thru the brush, saw and recognized the expected
Sunday guest, and realized that the preacher had been mistaken
for the black-dressed rider. With red face he gathered and
led the family back to the house. He quickly, and somewhat
nervously explained that they had been inspecting a gooseberry
patch while they awaited the guest's arrival.
(That wasn't the first face-saving lie ever told and it surely
wasn't the last!)

The old minister seemed to enjoy that meal very much but
he couldn't help but notice that some of the children were a
bit nervous and kept looking down the trail which led from the
road up to the dwelling.

Over the years rumors arose as to the cause of the ghostly,
Easter appearances of the black-dressed rider. For one thing it
was observed that he always appeared within a short distance of
a certain farmstead in the area, and from whatever direction,
he was always headed toward that place.

A family from McMinn County,Tennessee had bought and moved onto that
farm at about the time of the first appearance of the ghostly
horseman. That family kept mostly to themselves, never socializing
with their mountain neighbors.
But a certain man in the neighborhood, who always went in
autumn to the Atkins bottoms in Pope County, Arkansas, to pick
cotton happened to strike up an acquaintance with the man, also
from McMinn County, Tennessee, who knew the new-comers on Mt.Sherman.

He told how the wife of that family was a daughter of a tenant
farmer who lived on the plantation of a very wealthy and aristocratic
citizen of Athens, Tennessee (county seat of McMinn,County).
That prominent land owner always dressed in the finest black and
daily rode his sleek black horse over his plantations while supervising
his sharecroppers.

In time his wife had sickened and died and he had hired a
daughter of one of his tenants as a nurse for her. The wife had
died soon after the girl was hired. Not long after that, the
wealthy widower professed his love for the hired girl and
sought to win her hand in marriage. But alas, she was
already engaged to her father's stepbrother. However the
bereaved but romantic widower, persisted in his efforts to
win the object of his devotion, much to the chagrin of her
fiance.

Finally, in an angry confrontation, the old gentleman was killed
by the engaged suitor. The murder had occurred on an Easter Sunday.
Soon after that, the young girl and her fugitive beau had fled from
the state.

It was that couple which later settled on Mt.Sherman, and
near whose farmstead the strange black-clothed rider always appeared.

That migrant cotton picker neighbor of the McMinn County couple soon
returned to Mt. Sherman but he kept his secret until long after the
young bride was dead, and her husband had moved on to an unknown
destination.

Sometime up toward the following spring after the return of
the migrant worker from Atkins, the young woman from McMinn
County, Tennessee sickened and died. A distant neighbor came
later to her wake(sitting up with the dead). As he tied his horse
to the fence near her cabin, another horseman drew up by his
side. As he looked to see who had arrived, his blood froze in
horror. Sitting tall and straight, and clearly visible in the bright
moonlight, was the dreaded black-clothed rider. It was his
only known night and non-Easter appearance. He looked long and intently
toward the dimly lighted cabin, then turned and rode
slowly away.

And back thru the stillness of that late winter night, came the sound
of bitter weeping. He was never seen on Mt.Sherman again.

ADDED NOTE: Dear reader, pity not the tall dark stranger
who, time and again, rode forth from his grave, seeking the
object of his affection.
Rather pity those, the living dead, who because of crushed hopes
and bitter disappointments, wander about over the trails and roadways
of life in despondency and despair.
They ever hope, but know there is no hope.
They ever seek, but never find.
The sun never rises to dispel their gloom, nor does warm spring
ever break to thaw the frozen crust of their embittered hearts.