Ol’ BrownSeated between two mountain ridges, in a valley where a large muddy river rushes through, sits a tiny little town called Coon’s Paw. Coon’s Paw can be found way down in Kentucky and it is but a throw back from the eastern hollow coal-mining towns that dominate the eastern quarter of the state. This seemingly insignificant town, even by eastern Kentucky standards, is situated just east of east; no pun intended. Composed chiefly of farms spread out along the valley, this humble hamlet sits nestled between river and hill. Most of these farms crawl up the sides of hills that eventually taper into mountains. Also, it isn’t too uncommon to spot a herd of cows grazing lopsided, as it would seem, on the side of some steep, grassy slope. There can be seen fields of corn, tobacco or even a mixture of beans, squashes and the like clinging to the side of a hill like a precariously positioned climber clinging for dear life to the ground. However, the most agreeable locations for a plot of land are down near the river, where most of the more affluent farms are standing. But as it would seem, these are most coveted, and few and far between.

Although it is a rural town, not all of Coon’s Paw is farmland. Near the river, in the center of town, a healthy number of shops and craftsmen find their home in the cluster of row houses and factories. One such building houses the Coon’s Paw sawmill. Everyday, a dozen, or so men can be seen with long, poker-ended sticks, fishing out logs from the river. The mill employs loggers up river, who cut down trees, toss them in the stream to be picked up by the mill workers. They can be heard cussing and cutting up, with their tattered shirts rolled up to their biceps, laughing as they manipulate the elongated logs that look like over-sized cigars floating in the river. Along with the mill, there is a feed store, where all of the local farmers buy their necessaries, and about a half dozen other types of stores, where dry goods or anything else that the townspeople may need can be purchased. Overall, Coon’s Paw is peaceful town, barring the occasional brawl that may erupt over at Ester’s Bar on the edge of downtown. As well, the gossipy women and crotchety old men who stir up trouble from time to time can make the community unsettling. But, for the most part, Coon’s Paw is found to be a good place of log-splitters and cake bakers; good men and women of spit and soil (as some may say).

Aside from the fact that Coon’s Paw is a most uneventful place, where nothing out of the ordinary happens, there was a time when something out of the ordinary occurred there every day. At one time, the town’s people had accepted it, though they kept their distance from that place. What it was that both fascinated and terrified the inhabitants of Coon’s Paw was a regular bout of tremors that shot down from a mountain just outside the city. About the same time each day, a thunderous pounding would be heard coming from Coal Mountain (a hill just outside the city), almost as if lightening were striking it’s crest over and over again. And at night, some said that a low-tenor wheezing noise, accompanied by a chilly breeze, would sweep down from the mountain’s peak. The problem was that no one had ever investigated these strange sounds. Most people in Coon’s Paw were reluctant to do so, to say the least. This was because, according to legend, on top of Coal Mountain sat an over-sized man, a giant, who was referred to as Ol’ Brown. As the story went, Ol’ Brown lived on top of Coal Mountain, tending to his farm, feeding his exceptionally large cattle, that grazed in fields on its peak. They say he never ventured down off that mountain ever; and he was the cause of the daily ruckus. Now, the reason why this was never disputed was that Coal Mountain, for one, is the highest hill in the region. And for another thing, clouds obscure its pinnacle. Even on the clearest day, one couldn’t see the top of the hill. It was almost as if the clouds were created by the warm ground meeting the cool air. Regardless what the reason was for the interminable presence of the clouds, no one knew what sat up there, and no one was ever brave enough to find out.

Others in the community explained the phenomena of Coal Mountain by rational, scientific means. While it is true that Kentuckians love to believe anything superstitious, it isn’t true that they are dumb. The idea of a giant living for so many years on top a mountain was incredulous to say the least to even the least of those with any mental capacity. Some said that the tremors might have been produced by some underground volcanic activity, which had never surfaced. Others characterized the height of Coal Mountain as a sort of tower, which, when introduced to gusts of wind (that were predictably perennial) would sway in the wind, consequently resulting in the mountain ‘groaning’ as its rock and dirt would grind against its base. All manner of explanation circulated that was thought to bring resolve and comfort to the over anxious town’s people of Coon’s Paw.

Well, it happened that on one day, the superstitious citizens were right. Indeed, a giant of a man truly did occupy the plateau crest of Coal Mountain. Standing some thirty feet high, the tallest man in Coon’s Paw had managed to survive, as a recluse, atop his hilltop abode without fraternizing with the world below. With a thick, curly beard, cheeks as red as crabapples, arms the size of a trunk of some well-aged oak and legs that pounded the ground as he walked, Ol’ Brown had decided that it was time to visit Coon’s Paw. The fact of the matter was that Ol’ Brown, being a farmer, tended his crop of corn, and beans, and all sorts of squashes. Everyday, he would hoe his garden, tearing up the loose soil. These were the tremors that the citizens of Coon’s Paw heard daily. And it turned out that Ol’ Brown incessantly snored, explaining the nightly wheezing that many heard coming from the hill at night. However, for some reason, the crop of Ol’ Brown’s corn was not producing enough seed for the next year’s planting. Determined to find some more corn seed for his garden, Ol’ Brown decided to venture down the mountain to Coon’s Paw to purchase some seed.

With a lantern in one hand, his leather boots fitted to his table-sized feet, Ol’ Brown made his descent. Outside his farm, there was a thick forest of pine and maple. Although it was light outside, inside the woods it was dark. So, Ol’ Brown carefully crept into the woods with his lantern ahead of him, as the hill sloped downward. It was cloudy, as well, up there, obscuring his view to the point of veritable blindness. He hadn’t walked in the woods for a long time. Every once in a while he went hunting in there, but he hadn’t a need for that in a very long time. At first, Ol’ Brown felt for every step he made, placing his foot in front of him, to test the ground, to make sure there were no tripping vines or bores or pits, but the longer he walked in the woods, the less careful he became. Soon, he started stepping confidently through the forest, as if, he knew there was nothing there to trip him up. This proved to be his downfall, because, for one, he forgot that it got awfully cold in the forest at night, so that, in the morning snow and ice would sometimes linger there during the day. And for another, it just so happened that there was a patch of ice right in front of him that he couldn’t see. As soon as his foot met the ice, his legs swept out from underneath him and landed him on his back. Immediately, the bumbling giant slid down the mountain. "Crack!" "Snap!" "Thump!" Went the trees, as Ol’ Brown rolled over top them, uprooting and breaking them. He plummeted down the mountain like a child on a sled in winter, except it wasn’t winter, the ‘snow’ was dirt and trees, and his back was the sled. By the time Ol’ Brown made it down the mountain, he must have taken out a thousand trees in a tidy path from top to bottom. Once his rump found level ground, Ol’ Brown stood up, brushed himself off (while looking around to make sure no one saw his blunder) pulled out a few splinters the size of tree branches from his back, combed his hair with his long, callous fingers and headed for town.

On his way through the countryside leading to the center of Coon’s Paw, he passed many farms, where the people would look up in awe and stare. One lady passed out when she saw the gigantic Brown walk passed her house. One man just stood, frozen, in the path of Ol’ Brown. Fortunately, Brown saw the man and graciously stepped around him, leaving the man standing in shock. It took Ol’ Brown just a few minutes to make it to downtown, where a normal man walking would have taken a half an hour. "Boom!" "Boom!" The ground rumbled as Ol’ Brown strolled into town. The women who worked at the general store were glued to the window, looking up at the giant as he made his way through town. One of the dock workers at the sawmill spotted Ol’ Brown, hollered at the rest of his companions who promptly rushed outside and couldn’t believe their eyes. "It’s true!" One of the men said. "Them old wives’ tales was true. It’s Ol’ Brown."

The whole town soon exploded into an uproar. The mayor of Coon’s Paw dashed out of the city building to see the giant. "What’s the meaning of this?" The mayor asked one of the constables who, standing outside with the rest of the town gazing into the sky, was just as shocked as he was. Despite the gawking and blank stares of the citizens, Ol’ Brown thundered down the road undaunted. He was determined to buy some seed corn for his farm. Coming to the end of the dirt road that went straight through town, Ol’ Brown turned to his right and saw a sign which read, "Coon’s Paw Feed Store". He thought to himself, "this must be the place." Studying the building, it was apparent to Brown that there was no possible way he was going to fit inside the store. So, he crouched down like an old mountain lion, placed his head next to the door and tapped on it with his finger. A voice from inside responded in a grouchy manner, "Come in, the door’s open."

Ol’ Brown swung the door open with his finger and poked his head through the doorway. One of the clerks shrieked. The owner spun around and gasped at the giant’s head, which was protruding past the first row of shelved items. Ol’ Brown sneezed as a canister of pepper was tipped over and fell on the floor, scattering it like dust. Sniffling, Ol’ Brown spoke to the owner, "Excuse me sir, you wouldn’t happen to have any seed corn? I’ve run out." Quivering, the owner thought to himself. "OK, how much seed corn would this fellow need. Clearly, a lot. I’d better tell him that we’re out, or else, he’ll clear me out of all my stock." The owner spoke to the giant, explaining that he just sold the last sack of seed to someone, outright fibbing to Ol’ Brown. When he heard this, Ol’ Brown acquired a frown, shaking his head. He thanked the owner and the clerk for their time and plucked his head out of the tiny doorway. Wiping his nose with his sleeve, the disappointed giant stood up and walked back home.

With everyone still staring up at him, Ol’ Brown walked away from the feed store, down the street, past downtown and back up Coal Mountain. The mayor ran over to the feed store and questioned the owner, "Festus, what did that big ol’ feller want?" Pulling himself together, Festus told him, "He wanted some seed corn."

"Oh yeah, what did ya’ say?"

"I told him I was out. I didn’t want him to take everything I had. He probably wouldn’t have paid for it. All he had to do was take it."

The fact was that Ol’ Brown did have money, and he only wanted one sack, of which Festus, the store’s owner, had several. Ol’ Brown ascended back up the mountain, following the trail that he had made from his fall down. Once on top, he ventured through the woods and found his way back to his house. All that season, Ol’ Brown was forced to content himself on beans and squash. It is true that he missed his corn, but he made due. He lived a happy life, alone on the mountain. He may not have had any corn, but he had something old Festus, the storeowner lacked. A few years later, Festus had to give up his store to one of his employees, because he had borrowed so much money to pay for his debts (overspending on frivolous things, like booze and cockfights) that he needed the money from the store to pay them off. And, I suppose the reason why the folks in Coon’s Paw never hear Ol’ Brown anymore is because he’s just quieter nowadays, hoeing softer and getting more sleep. I guess if Brown could’ve waited a few more years to venture down to Coon’s Paw for his seed corn, he would have gotten him a sack or two. But oh well, that’s just the way it goes down in the mountains.