The Legend of Panthers Hollow

“Panters!," the old timer mimicked. He went on to explain, "Philip had that heavy, old-world German accent and didn't pronounce the ‘h’!”

All the old-timers gathered around the butcher fire had a hearty laugh at the thought.

He continued, “When Philip told us the story, all he could say was “Panters! There were three of them. Coal black. Black Panters in the woods!”

One of the other old-timers chimed in, “Black panthers! Of all the things he could come up with. There’s never been wild cats like panthers around here!”

Another round of laughter ensued, punctuated by swigs from the gallon jug of homemade elderberry wine they passed around.

I listened with fascination as the old-timers told the tale of ‘Panther’ Philip Wetzel.

The butcher fire was always a great place for stories. On butcher days, we were up by 4:00 in the morning. We worked hard all day in the cold, raw, winter weather. By mid-afternoon, the low fire around the liver sausage kettle provided a warm place to gather and exchange stories. As a six year old, I was always certain these stories, fortified by the wine, were 100% factual.

Panthers Hollow is one of the main tributary hollows that run north from the Monroe City Hollow. It is deep and narrow, bounded by Devil's Ridge to the east and Turkey Ridge to the west. Dense woods encroach from both sides. The forest provides a dark canopy over the creek at the hollow's floor. A gravel road, at that time only a trail, parallels the creek, providing the only access to several fields, pastures, and timber plots. In the 1800’s, the trail was the primary access route to the Foster family’s timber plot on Foster’s Ridge. Coopers by trade, the Fosters made flour barrels for the Monroe City Mill.

And deep in the hollow, more than a mile from Monroe City, was Philip Wetzel’s log cabin home.

Late one night in the early 1900’s, Philip was walking up the road, heading home from a dance in Monroe City. He would almost certainly have been fortified by liberal amounts of wine served at the dance hall.

”It was so dark you couldn't see the hand in front of your face!" he said, according to the legend. Though it was pitch dark, he looked over his shoulder and saw three pair of yellow eyes staring at him.

“Black Panters!!”

He began to walk quickly. But the faster he walked the faster the big cats followed. Phillip began to run but the panthers ran faster. They were closing in, certain to overtake and devour Philip. In desperation, Phillip dived into a ditch cut across the road.

“There were three of them. Coal black Panters.” Philip later recounted.

“They jumped right over me and kept on running!”

He had outfoxed them!! Philip dusted himself off and walked the rest of the way home without incident. We presume he slept well that night after such a harrowing experience.

The three panthers were never seen again. We are sure that to this day, the spirit of Panther Philip watches over the hollow, guarding against their return!