This story comes from my personal collection of recordings of stories from my family. Wilma, the storyteller, is my paternal grandmother who grew up in the rural Ozarks just north of the town of Ozark, AR. Other speakers on the recording are my grandfather Fred, and my mother, Valerie. A transcription is below.
Wilma: I was born in Oklahoma, and we moved to Arkansas when I was six years old. Moved up on a mountain, I think it’s north of Ozark.
Fred: Yeah north of Ozark.
Wilma: It’s about twelve miles up there I guess, on an old road, but anyway a lot of my mother’s family lived up in there, her grandma and grandpa lived up there. But anyway, there was four girls, and I had, I was the only one had red hair of the family.
Fred: Your dad, he was not really red haired but…
Wilma: Yeah well but of the kids I mean, anyway we moved up there in a little, it was just a two log, two room log cabin, and it was open range, we had never been around any place like that. Someone said that these ol’ bulls came down through there all the time and someone had told my older sister that anything red, you know made em mad and theys get after it. So one day there we heard one bellering up through there and comin’ down towards the house and she took, they used, for milk cans they used these lard cans and they was red, well we had some red buckets hung up on the wall and so she took all those down and put em under the bed, and made me get under…(laughing) because I had red hair.
Valerie: How long did you have to stay there?
Wilma: I don’t remember.
Valerie: So was you under the bed a lot? Or just…
Wilma: That one time, I guess they told her after that well hey you don’t have to do that.