Booger Hunting

Have you ever seen a booger?

No, I am not talking the dried mucus in your nose. Gross!

Let me clear. Where I come from, a Booger refers to ghosts, spirits, or spooks. Booger is where bogeyman comes from. Bogeymen are defined as an evil spirit used to frighten children. As a Native American person, it is not that simple. Boogers are not necessarily evil and were not used to frighten children. Some boogers were lessons. Some boogers are protectors. Some boogers are reminders of how to treat each other as human beings. One story my grandmother told was of a booger known as Raw Head Bloody Bones.

Long ago, there was a boy. He started his life as a respectable young boy. But as he grew, he chose not to fulfill his obligations to the tribe. In our traditional communities, every had a role. Every job, whether small or large, were for the support of the people. Everyone had a responsibility to take care of each other. Everyone included all people and animals. When the people planted, they planted two fields: One for the people, one for the animals. When the animals would come the field for the people, it was the job of the children to show the animals their field.

When it was the boy’s turn to watch the fields and help the animals find their field, he decided not to help. As he was walking through the corn field for the people, he saw a crow munching on an ear of corn. Instead of shooing the crow away, he picked up a rock and hurled it the crow. The rock hit the crow, square on the head and killed him dead. The boy, knowing he had done wrong, picked up the crow, ran out the cornfield and threw the dead crow into the field for the animals. He then, ran to his longhouse, and hid.

The crows found their kin and began mourning for him. They called out and cried out. The crows were so loud it hurt the ears of the people. The people went to see why the crows were crying and their found the crows mourning their loved one.

An elder spoke to the crows and said, “Brothers, why are you crying out so? Why do you mourn so loudly for your fallen relative?”

The crows replied, “Our little brother here, was murdered. One of your people killed him and threw his body here. We demand justice.”

The elder spoke, “Let us talk amongst ourselves. Let us see who is responsible and we will honor your call for justice.”

So, the people came together in the arbor and talked.

“Did someone kill Brother Crow? Please speak up and let us know.”

Everyone was silent.

“Who was in the field for animals today?”

Everyone was still silent.

“Speak up. We need to know.”

At last, the boy, spoke, “It was me. I killed the crow brother. I didn’t mean to, but he was eating in the field for the people. I threw a rock and killed him. I threw his body into the field for the animals so I wouldn’t get caught.”

The people talked amongst themselves about what was the right thing to do. The people invited the crows to the discussion.

The crows said, “We demand justice. Our brother is dead. He should not have died. We have always lived together in harmony. We can continue to live in harmony if you release the murderer to us.”

The people talked and decided that the only way to provide justice was to give the boy to the crows. So the boy said his good byes to his family and his people and when they night came, he left the village and walked out into the wilderness. As he walked, the crows began to circle around him.

As he continued to walk, each of the crows swooped and pecked his head. The crows pecked at his eyes, his arms and his legs They peck the flesh off his body and the hair off his head. They pecked at him until he was nothing but a raw head and blood bones. And that was what the people called him, Raw Head Blood Bones.

Raw Head Bloody Bones still walks in the woods of Eastern North Carolina. He lives the life of a booger and comes to children who are not being responsible and reminds them to listen to their elders and be respectful of all life. He is a lesson and reminder.

One day when I was little, my cousin and I were having a sleep over. We both were supposed to help our family the next day with the corn. Corn cutting was a major event and we had responsibilities. Instead of taking our responsibility seriously, we were in the bedroom, playing. It was well past midnight and we were mid giggle when we heard, tap, tap, tap on the window.

We both stopped and looked at the window. We heard it again, tap, tap, tap. We carefully walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. Standing there, looking back at us was a bloody, deformed face and a boney finger, which tapped at the window one more time. We screamed and jumped into our bed. We closed our eyes and tried to sleep, knowing that if we continued to not be responsible, Raw Head Bloody Bones would be back.

So, I say to you.

Make sure you are being responsible.

Make sure that you are doing what you are supposed to do for your family and your community. Otherwise, Raw Head Bloody Bones will visit you. And if you do not listen to his warning, he may take you with him and let the crows peck your head and pull the flesh from your body.

With that experience, it was college before I went booger hunting. I was with a larger group of other Native college kids and it was Halloween night and a full moon. I was very apprehensive as I had experience with boogers before. While some of the kids were excited, I was nervous. I was taught that you didn’t go out looking for boogers. If you did, you would find them. Boogers are not meant to be summoned as they come to be a warning. If you are seeing boogers, you are seeing a warning and there will be negative consequences. But, being the young, foolish person I was, I followed the group.

We gathered together and decided that the first place to explore would explore in our quest to find boogers was Gravity Hill. Gravity Hill is located near Laurinburg on Stewartsville Cemetery Road. The name and the location were very fitting. As our caravan of 7 cars came to the spot, we all pulled off on the side of the road. Thirty five college kids got out and circled around to hear the story.

Apparently, there was a mother with her three children driving down the road when the brakes went out on the car. Frantic, the mother tried everything she could to stop the car before it ran the stop sign but was unsuccessful. The car flew past the stop sign and was hit by a truck killing the family instantly. Now, to save others from the same fate, the mother and her children will push cars up the hill.

Our storyteller ended the story with and we have the baby powder to prove it. He held up a travel size of Johnson and Johnson baby powder. We collectively decided to hope in and on the largest truck we had. Twenty of us crammed next to each other with a few onlookers by the side of the road. Our story teller sprinkled baby powder on the hood and hopped in as well.

The truck pulled to the end of the road, put the truck in neutral, turned off the lights, and we waited. You could have heard a pin drop in the night as everyone held their breathe to see if the mother and her children would push us up the hill. Almost instantly the truck began going in reverse. Gasps, whispered shocked, Oh my gods, and one “Holy Shit” were spewing from the truck bed as the truck climbed further and further up the hill, eventually stopping almost 30 feet from where we began.

All of us waited patiently to for the truck to stop completely before climbing collectively over the sides of the truck bed to see if there were indeed hand prints. And there were some were larger than others but on the front of the truck you could see several prints all over the hood. As scary as that was, we tempted fate by trying the hill several more times before moving on the Stewartsville Cemetery, which is located on the road.

Nothing is more frightening than walking though a cemetery on a moonlight night, especially when it is Halloween. Our goal was to find the grave of the mother and her children and to be scared out of out wits. What I noticed, was not the graves, but the lights in the distance in the wood surrounding the cemetery.

My grandmother would talk about the lights in the woods that preceded the visit of a booger. And I was seeing it there. The lights were different colors and flickering in the distance. They were definitely not lightening bugs! the lights were the size of lanterns and flickered inconsistently.

I felt the need to move towards them as if they were calling me. I walked slowly in that direction and I heard my name. Not the name that my peers called me, but the name my grandmother called me. I stopped. I stood still. I knew we were not where we should be and that we should leave. Before I could tell my friends what was happening, the group decided to move on to the next place. I was so relieved and almost ran back to the car.

I don’t know if Raw Head Bloody Bones or another booger was coming to tell us to leave. I don’t know the lights I saw were a warning. I do know that I have not been back.

Have you ever had an experience with boogers? Shoot me an email and tell me your story.

Hope you have a happy and safe Halloween!