As children,
we were warned to never go past Granny Griffin’s rock for fear she would
capture us. The rocks were located just past Uncle Cec’s house on the point!
As an
out-the-banker, playing in the woods and on the wharfs was second nature.
However, passing Granny Griffin’s rocks was an exhilarating, anxious and
fearful venture. No kid would ever
attempt passage on their own!
Sometimes a
group of us would go out to the point together. We would throw rocks in the
woods and at the cliffs, howl and make fun of Griffin. The slightest sound
created a great fright. The adrenaline would kick in and we would take flight
back to the safety of Bank Road. Some of
us would be laughing, some crying.
Granny
presented a particular challenge to me.
I loved the outdoors; one of my favorite hideaways was a rocky outcrop
atop Hearn Cove. The boulders, cliffs and divergent paths resembled something from
a Western movie. This was the best spot around to play Cowboys & Indians. Convincing others to take the path past Granny’s
rock was not easy.
I convinced
myself, and my buddies, that she would not snatch us in broad daylight. Still, there were plenty of anxious moments
because the trail above her rock included a narrow ledge covered by trees. The
dense trees, curled at the tips by the wind, created the illusion of a dark
tunnel.
Even as a young teenager armed with my .22, the three or four minutes
in the tunnel leading to the Puffin Dirt always made me nervous. The .22 was
not for protection, I used it to shoot Ice birds and other targets. Guns went hand in hand with growing -up in an outport.
How about
you, any childhood stories of fairies or Granny Griffins to share?
Provincial
Folklorist Dale Jarvis’s latest Telegram Column
features a couple of great tales about fairies in Conception Bay and the
South Side Hills.
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