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Happy October!
Especially around Halloween, folklore seems to become more popular and tales that hint of gruesome details are told and retold.
Such is the fate of the origin of Babyhead Cemetery in the Texas Hill Country. Now admittedly when you put those two words together a gruesome backstory seems to be guaranteed. I’ll let you decide.
The cemetery is about ten miles north of Llano, in an area where the town of Babyhead once stood, by a mountain of the same name. In the mid-1800s it was a respectable size settlement, with a school, post office, courthouse and a few businesses. It eventually faded away and became a ghost town, with the remaining few citizens being absorbed into the city of Llano.
All that’s left of the community is a cemetery. Babyhead Cemetery. A place visited by more ghost enthusiasts than historians.
The Story
Local tradition shared that the town got its name in the 1850s, when a small child was kidnapped and killed by Indians trying to discourage settlers. Most versions include the grisly detail that the child’s head was left on a stake at the base of the mountain as a warning. Legend has it that the town was named in her memory.
The cemetery today has a few dozen well-kept but weathered graves that date from the early 2000s back to the oldest – that of a child named Jodie May McNeely who died on New Year’s Day in 1884.
Now we all know the old game of “telephone” or “post office” where one person says something, the next repeats it but a few facts change and so on. That’s how most local legends take shape.
Young Jodie’s grave is the one many visitors associate with the grim story, and that’s where they leave remembrances…dolls, toys, cards, candy…all for the child who they associate with the tale of another child who lost her life much too soon.
But at least Jodie is being visited.
A Texas State Historical marker was placed at edge of the cemetery in 1991 that shares a brief version on the story.
Another Option
Unless it was a community of ghouls, it would be very strange indeed to name your town, post office and even your children’s school Babyhead if the event truly occurred.
There is a large creek that runs past the former townsite. Remember that a moving body of water is referred to as a “head.” Unusually, this site also has a smaller creek that runs toward it nearby, right where Babyhead Road is today.o m
Hmmmm…..so if the major water was referred to as the Head, perhaps the settlers referred to the smaller creek as the Baby Head. Seems to make sense to me.
But legends and offerings persist, and really…who knows? You’ll have to decide for yourself.
Would you visit a cemetery named Babyhead?
For my 11th birthday, my parents took a group of my friends and I to see a new movie: “The Legend of Boggy Creek- A True Story.”
If you need a good giggle, click here to see the original movie trailer.
It was a new scary movie (called a docu-drama) about a monster that lived in the swamps of Arkansas. (I know, I know…”swamps in Arkansas?”) Basically portrayed as a Bigfoot-like creature, this guy attacked and killed people. I remember not being very scared (even back then it took quite a bit to scare me), but my friends screamed and clutched each other through the entire thing. I don’t remember if I noticed that it was painfully obvious that this “Bigfoot” was a guy in an ape suit, complete with cutout eyes.
But as bad as it was, the movie holds a fun spot in my memories because, hey…it was my birthday.
Just a few months ago I was speaking at a paranormal convention in Jefferson (about Victorian funeral customs). One of the gentlemen who had a booth in the vendor hall carried just about everything Bigfoot-themed you could think of: dolls, bumper stickers, books, key chains and more. I resisted as long as I could, but I finally politely asked him what connection Bigfoot had with East Texas.
He looked at me as if I had lost my mind, and then asked if I had ever heard of a movie called “Legend of Boggy Creek.”
I smiled and replied that, well yes as a matter of fact I remembered that movie.
That’s when he told me that although the movie was set in Arkansas, those events actually happened in East Texas, where Bigfoot has been seen for years.
A couple of other attendees gathered to tell me that OF COURSE it was about East Texas, and the movie had even been filmed there.
Well, huh. Who knew?
I thanked them for the information, and sat myself down for a visit with Mr. Google. But all I really had to do was walk across the street from the convention area to see a bronze statue of Bigfoot.
The next day, I drove to Uncertain, which is appropriately named for anything spooky, and recognized the same type of swampy, cypress-filled waterways and run-down wooden shacks that appeared in the movie.
I didn’t get to meet Bigfoot, but maybe he rests during the day. Wherever he was, I found Uncertain to be a magical place, and can’t wait to visit again to go kayaking or on an airboat ride. It’s an ecological wonderland. But I’ll have to remember to keep an eye out for the Big Guy in the treeline.
Who wants to join me?
