What's Your Local Urban Legend / Folklore / Myth?

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Anonymous

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#31
The Lambton Worm

I've never seen The Lair of the White Worm. I thought the video cover told me all I needed to know by stating 'from the creator of Dracula'. I guessed the target audience to be those who didn't know Bram Stoker by name. But I could be wrong - it could be a wonderful piece of cinematographic history :)

I don't think it has anything to do with the Lambton Worm thought. Isn't it about some worm woman who seduces then eats men or something?
 

JamesWhitehead

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#32
I think Stoker was just the starting point for one of Ken Russell's
fantasies in that movie. Probably some phallic overtones there?

Worm seems to be from the Anglo Saxon Wyrm, meaning worm
or Snake. The Germans have Wurm, a word applied to the dragon
Fafner in Wagner's Siegfried. The rustic clown who supplies
Cleopatra with the asp in Antony & Cleopatra, wishes her much
joy of the worm.

Associations with water suggest further meaning of lake serpent?
 

carole

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#33
Re: wurms/worms

Originally posted by blac100
on behalf of me and my mate dave barker, has anybody any info on wurms of which a few appear in folklore of durham and northumberland most notably the lambton worm
cheers
[/QUOTE
I think there's also the Sockburn worm on the river tees, but I can't remember any details.

Didn't someone once suggest that some of these worms might be a distant memory of the times when the norsemen invaded (the dragons on the prows of their boats evolved into fearsome worms/dragons)

Carole
 

DerekH16

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#34
I seem to recall seeing that worm & dragon were synonymous at one time - but as usual, can't remember where. :(

Somehow, St. George and the Worm doesn't have the same ring to it ......


(And Lair of the White Worm - there's the scene where Ms Donohoe (the evil one) is dressed in a 'scaly' trouser suit, and does an OTT 'sexy walk' across screen - I almost wet myself (laughing)):D
 
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Anonymous

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#36
In the city near where I live, there is a taxi service who's phone number is 666666. It went bust 'cos no-one would dial the number and nobody trusted the firm with that number!
 
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Anonymous

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#37
I tried that 666 phone call once.

What a waste of time.

I got a message that said "We're sorry, that number is no longer in service. If you would like to speak to the operator in Hell, press 666 once more".
 
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Anonymous

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#39
Like Foofighter, there was a rumour going around my secondary school about "Killer Clowns". These clowns supposedly abducted kids and carved smiles all over their bodies before disposing of the corpse. As a result, I've never quite trusted clowns since ;)

ShaRen
 
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Anonymous

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#40
In Market Place in the centre of Bury there is a big bronze statue of one of the town's most famous sons, Sir Robert Peel, founder of the modern police force.
The story goes that after the unveiling in the middle of the 19th century, someone pointed out to the sculptor that the buttons on Peel's waistcoat were done up the female way.
Apparently the poor bloke was mortified and committed suicide.
I suppose it's possible that this may not be an urban myth at all and in fact did happen. Peel's waistcoat certainly is buttoned up the wrong way...
 

JamesWhitehead

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#41
Must check out Peel's buttons next time I'm up for my black
puddings.

Probably the sculptor died peacefully in his bed along with all
the architects who are said to have topped themselves when
their buildings were built back to front. It is a classic myth variant.

I heard it about the Palace Hotel in Southport as a sprog and
recently read the same story about a mansion in Ottawa.

Seems to suggest a kind of dotty professional pride linked
with a very visible social shame. Maybe there is some more
arcane association between buildings and deaths, as in the
Masonic legend of Hiram?

But I'll eat my own waistcoat buttons, if you find evidence of a
sculptor who died of shame. I even suspect that the notion of a
male and female way to do up buttons postdates Sir Robert. :p
 
A

Anonymous

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#42
the wet hitch hiker

Although I would have literally millions of these myths legends being Irish I will settle on this on as it is local and interesting. A friend of mine a number of years back owned a moterbike which he was riding just outside Drogheda. His bikes headlight caught the image of a young woman, half dressed. As he was worried about her condition and the fact their were no houses for miles he pulled over to give her a lift. Her clothes were ragged and soaking wet. She accepted and he drove on. After a short time he drove into a village where he intended to ask her where she was going. He pulled over and as he raised his hands to release her grip around his chest all he could feel was the wet of his own jacket. The grip released. He turned on the bike to look at her only to see his wet seat. he entered a pub to get a drink and told the story and was comforted by a man who said this is a common occurrence. He said a girl was killed at that point some years back and had on certain evenings been trying to return to her home.
 
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Anonymous

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#43
Cromwell's Faustian Deal over Worcester.

There's a wonderful story told in Worcester concerning the end of the civil war. My father - a taxi driver - fascinates his customers with his local knowledge, and I reproduce here one of his very best stories...

"It was the evening of September 2nd, 1651 - and looking towards Perry Wood from the city of Worcester it was possible to see the flickering campfires of Oliver Cromwell's army camped just outside the city at Red Hill. In the midst of the wood the General and the most high ranking of his officers had been discussing possible tactics to be used in the planned battle the next day.

The men were in sombre mood and all had agreed they had a very difficult if not impossible task to take such a well defended city.

Whilst all were pondering on their seemingly inevitable defeat, a dark cloaked figure appeared from the shadows and took Cromwell aside. Cromwell's colleagues, although at first alarmed to think a stranger had entered the camp unseen by the sentries , were soon put at ease when it became apparent that the General obviously knew the intruder.

The two men were speaking in low murmers at first and as the officers curiosity was aroused they tried to listen, but although unable to hear the conversation, they did realise an argument took place. As the quarrel became more heated Cromwell was clearly heard to say;

'I must have ten!'
'No.', hissed the other man, "We agreed five.'

After several minutes the tempers seemed to cool and the man said;

'Very well, seven. I`ll hold you to it.'

Then, almost as he came, the stranger seemed to melt into the
night again. Returning to his friends, Cromwell seemed to give an almost confident smile as he bad them goodnight.

The next morning is recorded in history; Cromwell`s troops over-ran Fort Royal and broke through the Sidbury gate.

Strangely, exactly seven years to the day after winning the battle of Worcester on Sept 3rd 1651 Cromwell died - Sept 3rd 1658...

After the battle roundhead troops ransacked the city, burning pillaging and destroying the city walls. A party of Cromwells cavalry were having fun dessicrating the Cathedral and one trooper was enjoying galloping his horse up and down the isle when suddenly, a large chunk of masonry fell from the roof and killed him.

Act of God or hoofbeats upon an ancient floor?"
 

rossba1

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#44
This sounds very much like a twilight zone story i have the screenplay for at home in a compendium. Might be called "an occurrence at owl creek" or summat. In it the story takes place during the american civil war. A group of confederates meet a wily stranger who offers them an easy end to the war through invoking the devil to beat the yankees. In the story the confederates want nothing to do with it being good christian boys, and kill the magi after refusing his deal. Of course that pisses somebody off who wants revenge, and the rest is history.
 
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Anonymous

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#45
I originally hail from Cornwall.. but am occaisionally to be found in the South East - here's one I heard recently from a friend about the Bluewater shopping centre in Kent (quite surprising as Bluewater has only been open a couple or three years at the most).

It also bears striking similarities to the 'Woman driving alone at night picks up lonely old lady at bus stop.... etc. etc.' story that we were all discussing elsewhere on this message board a while ago.... anyway enough of my babbling and on with the story :

This was supposed to have happened to the wife of one of my friend's boyfriends work mates (suitably removed for an urban legend !? dont you think ??)...

The woman is walking out to one of the carparks at the shopping centre on a dark and wet night when she is approached by a limping man who says that he has lost his car and his ankle hurts too much for him to keep walking about looking for it - he asks if she would drive him to his car instead.

The woman feels sorry for him and agrees, but after a few minutes of driving around she starts to regret her decision and with thoughts of ' he could be a maniac or worse' persuades him to get out of the car to see if her lights are working (or something similar)..... and hastily drives away leaving the man behind.

When she arrives home the woman tells her husband about the man and he tells her she has been really silly as there have been other reports of a man trying to talk his way into women's cars at Bluewater.... At this point she remembers that the man left his shopping bag in the car, and when they both go to look it is found to contain lengths of rope and a big knife...


Well there you have it, and my friend swears it really happened !!


Haarp
 

DerekH16

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#46
Of course it happened!!!!!

Don't they all?

(BTW, although I'm a Scot, my mother's family are Cornish, and they're really weird buggers.....)

(I mean the entire race, not just the family ..... although, come to think of it.... )
 
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Anonymous

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#47
druggie urban lore

the surburb I grew up in follows the old old story of once having been a 'nice neighbourhood' in decline after various shifts in hte local demographic. By hte time I was a teenager, the area was fairly well known as a drug haunt - to the point where if you stood on the corner in the main drag long enough it was inevitable that you'd be asked "you chasin'?"
I remember hearing a story from some mates who were users for a while about the "old man", our own urban legend.
The story goes that an old man (read conservative ex army type, probably) got so sick of the addicts who ruined his neighbourhood that he started selling bad stuff (variations: new and improved omo, weed killer, rat poison etc) to the local users. Apparently he'd turn up on hte streets late at night, a one man vigilante force, and offer the late night users a hit of some cheap stuff his nephew (or son or grandson or neighbour) got.
A twist that I heard recently from a mate who works with users is that the police found out about him and instead of arresting him are collaborating and even supplying him. I don't know whether this is a purely local tale or whether it is a drug culture specific nasty, but its interesting.
:eek: :eek:
 

drjbrennan

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#48
Excellent story, and reminds me of the American survivalist writer Kurt Saxon who advocated intercepting drug shipments as they come into America and lacing them with a poison such as Ricin.
The population of drug users would be decimated with very little effort on the part of the authorities. The morality of this action I will not debate, but if a TRUE war on drugs was waged, this would be a very efficient tactic.
 

liveinabin

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#49
DanJW said:
Well, Brighton has a few ghosts, but I'll have to look up the stories later. Supposedly the Racetrack near me is on the site of an ancient stone circle, and we've had a few spates of the AIDS infected-neadles-in-nightclub-ques kind of rumours. Plud we have more than our fair share of fortune-tellers and stuff. I'll have a dig around and see what floats to the surface.

I once heard tell of an affordable flat in Kemptown!!!!

Sorry Brighton thing;)

At my school it was said that if you looked into a mirror and read out the lords prayer backward then the devil would appear. You'd think he'd have better things to do.
 

escargot

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#50
Here's a South Cheshire, UK, story- take from it what you will.

My Ma says her friend heard the following conversation on the bus-

'So how's your Linda then?'
'Well, she's just got engaged!'
'How lovely! Did he give her a nice ring?'
'Yes- he gave her eighteen rings!'
'Eighteen! How could he afford that? What does he do for a living?'
'He's an undertaker............'


As for 666 telephone numbers, in my town we have a long-established and flourishing taxi firm with number 01270 666666, try it!!!
 
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Anonymous

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#51
Local legends..

Phantom hitchhikers..although the famous Blue Bell Hill ghost(s) seems to have been wrongly perceived thanks to all the other urban legends regarding hikers etc.
In Kent we had the 'Welcome to the Aids Club' legend, as well as bodies entombed within motorway bridges, killer giant squirrels in school toilets (!), also kids were told about looking into a mirror with a candle in the dark and saying the Lord's Prayer backwards...if this took place then the Devil would appear on your shoulder forever. Better than havinga chip I guess!!!
 
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Anonymous

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#52
From where I come from there are tales about a nearby church not actually in our town but down the coast. Its called Skidbrook church. Its disused and there are stories about satanists doing rituals there. There was a story in the paper about a film crew who went there and things were floating from the altar and things being thrown at them. Also there a story about strange hooven footprints in the snow in the graveyard that disappeared once they reached the boundary.
 

marion

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#53
Well , I live in Glastonbury , Jesus came here , King Arthur came here , every bloody body came here and there is still no let up ,
Marion
 

rynner2

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#54
Marion said:
Well , I live in Glastonbury , Jesus came here , King Arthur came here , every bloody body came here and there is still no let up ,
Marion
There's a well known legend about Joseph of Aramathea at Glastonbury, and his staff which grew into a tree that flowers at Christmas, but I've never heard of JC being there except on this MB.

Any details, references?

JC was supposed to have been in Place, in Cornwall. That was mentioned in a small book by David Mudd, but I'd also like to know his source.
 

FelixAntonius

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#55
Look rynner, I suppose marion can give a better account tham I can!

BUT! The story is that JC came to Gastonbury, on a trading trip with J of A. Landed at Brean Down, South of Weston-Supra-Mare & legged over the Quantoc's to Glastonbury where he built a wattle & daube chapel. Later, after the crucifiction J of A returned etc. etc.

The supposed chapel, burnt down about 1100 to 1200, after which, with pigrimage rates falling, the monks found the bones of Arthur & his Misses.

The site of the old chapel was dug out as a crypt, in the middle ages so, no archeology remains
 
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Anonymous

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#56
Marion said:
Well , I live in Glastonbury , Jesus came here , King Arthur came here , every bloody body came here and there is still no let up ,
Marion
I haven't been...
 
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Anonymous

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#57
Probably the most famous story in my area is that of Fishers Ghost.

Fred Fisher left home on June 17,1826 and was never seen again-alive that is.His spectoral visage was seen sitting on a bridge poinying to a paddock where his body was later found.Many many people have seen poor old Fred sitting on the bridge.The creek flowing beneath it is now called Fishers Creek,and the paddock is now Fishers reserve.There is even an annual festival held in Freds Honour.
 
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