Sixty-five years is a long time for an incident to be buried so deep inside you, that, not once was it allowed to surface!

But, the other night it crept back into my dreams and grabbed me! Once again, I stood there wearing that white dress! Once again terror gripped me and a feeling of impending doom settled in my innermost being ; I was shaking as tho I was chilled to the bone. I awoke with tears in my eyes and sleep did not return for quite some time.

One summer day in 1937 Mama said we were going to visit a neighbor. This was always a treat for we didn't see other people often. Mr. & Mrs. Bryant lived a mile away and this was a long hike through the woods for my 5-year old legs.

When we arrived, Mrs. Bryant welcomed us with syrup teacakes and cool water fresh from their spring. I amused myself on the back porch with several playful kittens until Mama called to say it was time to leave. Good-byes were said and we set out for home. On the way, Mama said there was a pretty dress for me in the bag which she carried. I was thrilled and asked the color of the dress. Mama said it was white and would be so pretty for me to wear to Sunday school. I could hardly wait to get home and try the dress on.

All too soon, this happened! A strange looking and peculiar smelling dress was slipped over my head and encased my body. Even at 5 years old, I knew the dress wasn't new; this was o.k. as I'd never owned a brand new dress; hand-me-downs were fine! Still, there was something about this situation I did not like; and soon the awful truth came out.

"Mama, it smells funny," I complained. "I'll hem it up and wash it. You will look just like a little angel in Sunday school," Mama replied. I did not want to look like an angel; I just wanted that white dress off and out of sight.

"Mama, why did Mrs. Bryant have this dress? She doesn't have a little girl," I continued. Mama paused before answering me. Then came the terrible, stark naked truth. Mrs. Bryant had a little girl and there was an accident when the child was about six. The family was crossing the Sabine River at the Old Salem Ferry. The river was up and swift; the ferry was small and quite primitive. The child stumbled backwards and slipped into the water. Her body was recovered three days later. Mrs. Bryant had kept the white dress packed away in mothballs in her trunk for twenty-five years.

My ears began ringing; I felt dizzy and my eyes were swimming in tears.

I felt chilled from head to toe. This was the beginning of the battle of wills; Mama's against mine! Mama won for a while. I received a sermonette; Mama was the preacher! Several attempts were made to explain my feelings but to no avail! It did not matter to me that Mrs. Bryant had kept her little dead girl's dress for twenty-five years; simply waiting for the right little girl to come along who needed a dress. For once, I did not, could not appreciate hand-me-downs. All that mattered to me was the fact that Sunday morning was approaching and I would be decked out in a dead child's white dress.

I began having horrible dreams in which I was on the ferry watching the little Bryant girl slowly stumble backwards and the dark ugly waters of the Sabine swallow her completely. The white dress would then flutter just above my head , settling on my face. I would wake myself up, clawing to get free of the dress.

I prayed to be sick Sunday morning but no such luck. One last attempt was made to explain my feelings to Mama. At the thought of being dressed in that dress, my entire body felt encased in a horrible, chilling, trembling feeling of weakness which lingered for sometime. Mama gave me that hard, piercing gaze that spoke volumes. "Not another word about this, little lady, or I'll get a peach tree switch," she warned. I knew she had won.

Daddy asked if I were sick; Mama answered for me. She told him I was pouting because I did not want to go to Sunday School. She did not tell him the real reason and I couldn't bring myself to tell either.

The bad dreams had become a nightly occurrence when things took an unexpected turn in my favor. Daddy came to my rescue and he didn't even know it! He traded Mr. Davis a pig for a billy goat. The goat had a little harness and a wagon which he pulled. That goat smelled terrible but what fun my brothers and I had; riding in that little red wagon pulled by Old Dan Tucker, the goat. Mama did not seem to pleased with Daddy's trading and said instead of fresh pork that fall, she guessed we'd have barbequed goat.

The second day after Dan Tucker arrived, things took a turn in my favor, which I'm sure saved my sanity. Mama had hung the washing on the line to dry and the white dress was swaying in the breeze. I looked and fancied I saw the dead girl edging closer to claim her dress. I closed my eyes, then heard a ripping, tearing sound. I peaked through one half-opened eye to see if she had gotten her dress. I almost squealed with delight! The boys had accidentally let Old Dan Tucker loose and he was making a meal of the white dress. Quickly and quietly, I knew to make tracks far from the crime scene. God had answered my prayers! I no longer owned a white dress! The awful weight was lifted and I felt like shouting! No more bad dreams disturbed my sleep and the incident stayed buried deep inside for 65 years. I think perhaps writing this story will put my ghost to rest; once and for all!