According to Kathryn Tucker Windham, yelling "Rabbit, rabbit," at the top of your lungs, before your feet hit the floor on the first morning of every month will guarantee you have good luck all month long. To keep that luck going, eat the pointy end of a piece of pie last. Eating it first is a sure way to bring bad luck.
But to me, the best luck of all came just through knowing Kathryn Tucker Windham, the Alabama storyteller, writer, photographer and inspiration who died this past Sunday at the age of 93.
While she became famous for her ghost stories, including stories about Jeffrey, the ghost who lived with her in her Selma home, the stories I loved best were of her family and friends. I feel like I knew her aunt Bet, the local postmistress who tried to save a tree from demolition with a shotgun and a rocking chair. And her daddy who ran the local bank and told stories to Kathryn. And the carpenter who built the pine box she'll be buried in. She stored her mother's rose point crystal in it in the garage.
I hope that this past June 1, she shouted "Rabbit, rabbit," louder than ever, and is celebrating her good luck with the next great adventure.
One of the funnest days ever was a day spent in Selma in 2008 with Mrs. Windham. I blogged about it then if you'd like to read more: here, here and here.