The Legend of Reuben Banner

“Granny” stood not even five feet tall. A petite woman with a twinkle in her eyes and Cherokee in her blood, our great-grandmother could make the hair on the back of a grown man’s neck prickle when she told a scary story.

Us young’uns heard this one many times growing up.

And Granny told it for the truth …

Away up near the mouth of the holler where she grew up, lived a man named Reuben Banner.

Now, Reuben and his wife, Betsy, made a peculiar pair. He was a harsh, stingy man and known to drink and gamble. People said crotchety “Ol Reuben’s” meanness made him look years older than he was. And he never had a nice word to say about — or to — anyone.

But he reserved his most hateful words for the church. Anytime Betsy asked him to go to meetin’, which she always did, he’d blast the preacher, the buildin’ and the “hypocrites” in it — and said countless times that “even the devil hisself couldn’t get Reuben Banner to church!”

Betsy was as different from her man as night is from day. Kind and pious, she helped anyone who needed it. She never said a mean word about nobody and raised their five children with hard work, love and religion. Took the kids to church ever’ time the doors was open.

One September, folks was enjoyin’ a dog-days summer when a travelin’ minister on a chestnut mare rode up and down the holler, invitin’ families to a week-long revival meetin’ at the church. It was to start that Sunday evenin’, and most said they’d be there.

Come Sunday mornin’, Betsy and the children headed to church as they normally did. And after, they trekked on home, enjoyed a big lunch and some porch sittin’. Directly, they began gettin’ ready for evenin’ meetin’ — everyone except Reuben. He didn’t go to regular meetin’ and he was NOT a-goin’ to revival! He spat out the words they’d heard many times before: “Even the devil hisself couldn’t get Reuben Banner to church!”

And that’s what Ol’ Reuben said ever’ evenin’ from Monday plumb through to Friday.

Late Saturday afternoon, clouds rolled in and it looked like a storm was a-brewin’. In her kind way, Betsy once again asked her husband if he’d come on to revival. By then, it was a-sprinklin’ rain, and Reuben berated her for plannin’ to walk to church with the young’uns in a storm. And he put more force than usual behind his declaration that “even the devil hisself couldn’t get Reuben Banner to church!!”

He watched his wife and kids walk down the holler until they was out of sight. As the evenin’ shadows fell, Reuben went inside, took him a swigger of corn liquor and went to the bedroom, where he undressed and put on his long bed shirt. With it bein’ such a warm night, the fireplace in the big bedroom stayed empty, but Reuben did close the windows against the storm. Then, he promptly fell asleep, with nary a care in the world. 

Sometime after dark, Reuben sat straight up in the bed with a jerk. He didn’t know what woke him, but after a few loud booms, he reckoned it was just a clap of thunder. He laid back, pulled the thin sheet up over him and closed his eyes.

In a few minutes, he noticed a growing chill in the room. The storm was dyin’ down, but the wind was still strong. He thought he heard it whistling through the trees in the pasture.

As Reuben lay there a-listenin’, his ears caught a new, shrill sound above the howling wind. Like a scream. Not quite human but not like any animal or bird he’d ever heard.

Was it comin’ from out in the field, past the old apple tree? At first, he couldn’t make out any words. But as he strained his ears, his blood ran cold. That scream was callin’ a name … HIS name. Faintly and slowly, but clearly: “Roo-ben! Roo-ben Banner!”

Reuben’s mind set to work tryin’ to figure out if this was real, imagined or a dream. He pinched hisself under the covers to make sure he was awake. That’s when he heard his name again, closer this time. “Roo-ben! Roo-ben Banner!”

His eyes wide and his heart pounding, Reuben reached for the quilt at the foot of the bed, pulling it and the sheet up to his chin. Still as a church mouse, he listened. That last time, his name seemed to come from the barn just beyond the fence.

Was his mind a-playin’ tricks on him? He’d never been one to believe in haints or banshees or the like. But on this night, all alone in the dark room, Reuben wasn’t so sure.  Just then, he heard heavy thuds on the porch and his name, comin’ clearer, stronger and closer. Yes, he was definitely awake, and something was a-callin’ to him. “Roo-ben! Roo-ben Banner!”

Diving completely under the quilt, Reuben scarcely dared to breathe. His stomach knotted as the heavy thuds traveled up the outside of the house and onto the roof. Then, all was eerily quiet for a moment. No thuds, no wind, no rain, no thunder. Until a deep and booming shout called down the chimney: “Roo-ben! Roooo-ben Banner!!”

Well, Ol’ Reuben didn’t wait for that thing to jump down the chimney and git him. He leaped from the bed, tore open the door and went a-screamin’ down the road, barefooted and terrified.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, straight for the church. Just as the preacher was givin’ the invitation, Reuben burst through the doors and didn’t stop until he collapsed at the altar. Folks said his face was as white as his night shirt. And his hair, that had been black as tar earlier that day, had turned snow white, too. When he caught his breath, he told the preacher he wanted to pray and be saved. And right then and there, Reuben Banner changed his ways.

From that night on, he was a faithful church member — there with Betsy ever’ time the church doors was open. And the holler folks said Reuben became the kindest, most hospitable man they’d ever seen or heard tell of. When he died at a good old age, people came from far and wide to pay their respects, and all spoke highly of him. There was nary a hint of the mean-spirited “Ol Reuben.”

And though he told the story — of what happened to him that stormy night — many times over, no one knows to this day what it was a-callin’ his name. Granny said maybe the old devil hisself had gotten tired of Reuben’s threats. Or maybe the Holy Ghost scared some sense into him.

But ever after, the people in them parts told the story of “Roo-ben! “Roo-ben Banner!”