I was not a witness to these events as they occurred during either the late 1930’s, or possibly early 40’s in rural Alabama. My great grandmother (GG) told this story and it has since been passed on to every generation.
GG and her mom, brothers and sisters lived in shot gun houses next to each other. Like a lot of blacks in that area, they were all working as farm hands/share croppers and housekeepers. It goes without saying that they were very poor. One of GG’s sisters suffered from a heart defect that she was never properly treated for. This sister was married with children. She lived next to GG.
One morning when her husband got up, the sister could not be woken. A doctor was called and she was believed to have passed away in her sleep. At that time, they held funerals in the home and prepared the body themselves.
GG’s sister was buried early the next morning. I know you’re wondering “how did they find out she was alive?”, I promise, I’m getting there.
The family returned home after the burial to have a repast. For those unfamiliar, it’s a celebration of the person that passed away with everyone bringing dishes of food and sharing memories.
Meanwhile a young white guy and some friends were out cruising for fresh graves. They had apparently been going out stealing all of those precious items people tend to bury with their loved ones.
They dug up my aunts grave. This part was told by the guy as my aunt did not remember. The guy was planning to remove her ring when he realized she was moving. At first he was afraid of her but realized she was actually alive. She was weak and had no idea where she was, but offered to give him her ring to take her home.
At this time, the repast is winding down to mostly family. They’re outside on the porch while the children ran around in the yard. A truck pulls up with young white guys on the back and inside the vehicle. Everyone becomes quiet and concerned.
The driver gets out and leans back in to lift out my aunt. The porch of adults started screaming and calling her a ghost. The man carrying her managed to calm everyone down and explain what happened. He left my aunt with our family and refused to accept the ring or any form of payment.
My aunt went on to have two more children. People in the town and some family members were still afraid of her. Even much later in time, (she actually made it to the 60s)my mother and the other kids would dare each other to go up on her porch. I never met her as she passed away a long time before my birth. I love this story because so many things had to go right and wrong for my aunt to have made it out alive.
Every time this story is told, a family member will chime in with something the narrator forgot, so excuse me as I’m sure I left something out. My GG passed in 06, but her stories and those from her mother (died at 113) will continue being passed to every generation. Hopefully I will get around to sharing more.