The Witches of South Georgia!

The Witches of South Georgia - Post 10

Our Second Black Hat Society - 2009

It was around the first day of October, 2008 just days before my last outing with Mom when two older women from my street, mother and daughter, knocked on my door and handed me an invitation and said, “We sure hope you can come!” They were the same two who had extended an earlier invitation to their church, the Government Street Presbyterian. We went and loved it and still attend there. I was certain that this too, was a church event, until I looked at how it was addressed:  'To Witch Mary!'

Our first Black Hat Society:  2008

Curious, I opened it up and saw that I was invited to "The Annual gathering of the Black Hat Society." The date was set for around October 17, or so. The party was for Witches only, no Warlocks. It stated to bring some gruel or grog to share. My conservative Christian background of my early adult years told me to be weary. But this was the south, a place refined in manners and etiquette but political correctness took a back seat. In the churches I had attended, it would have been thought to be downright satanic to have a Witches party. Yet, as I walked out onto the porch, invitation in hand, I watched the two walking back to their separate houses on the same street. With the Live Oaks and Magnolia trees that draped the streets, I could envision that a Witches party would be quite appropriate here! A sense of novelty and well being washed over me as, once again I realized, I was home.

Black Hat Society 2012

I thought back to my childhood days when all I wanted was to be a witch, just like Samantha on  Bewitched. In our family devotion time one night, my dad read the scripture, “If you ask anything in my name, and say to this mountain move from here to there, it will be done.” As children, we were mesmerized and asked many questions. Dad was careful not to dash our faith while he tried to put the verse into perspective. He was quite dismayed, and perhaps a little frustrated when my sister Kare,12, and I, 9, with eyes lit up, began asking if that meant we could be witches. We could not rectify why, if we could move a whole mountain, we could not be little witches. Dad was not happy that the 15 minute study turned into two-hours as we argued and grilled him with questions, trying to prove how illogical it was that one could move a mountain but not be a witch.

So, here I was all these years later and finally I discovered that, I am a Witch after all! I had the documents in hand to prove it! A few weeks later, however, Mom took ill and ended up in the hospital for what we knew would be a losing battle, at least on this plane. I had forgotten that I was a Witch and about the annual gathering of the Black Hat Society. But after being in Panama City for nearly two weeks while Mom hung at deaths door and then stabilized, this was my first break back to Mobile when Les noticed the invitation on the refrigerator and encouraged me to go. 'How could I?' Mom was dying and I was going to a Witch party? Yet, something propelled me to go. Shanon wanted to come as well and, in all honesty, I wanted to bring her but wasn’t sure of the protocol. Therefore, I made sure she had a Witches hat and told her to be on standby.


I nervously walked down the street in my Witches’ hat, following fellow Witches, most of whom I hadn’t met yet, into the historical home. Coming up to the house, the sidewalks had lighted bags that caused a mist in the already foggy, warm night. There was a light, drizzly rain and the smell of sweet Ginger bushes scented the air. I had barely gotten past the hosts, Martha Tizzington (mother in her 80’s) and Blighe Jones ( daughter in her 50’s or early 60’s) – if those names aren’t southern than tell me what is! – when they asked where Shanon was and then told me to call her and get her down there! In about a minute, Shanon too, came through the door, as Witch Martha and Witch Blighe greeted her with open arms.

I had always hated Halloween until moving to the south. Although I still hadn’t experienced one in Mobile yet, the classy, Victorian, beautiful decorations that laced the town gave me a new love for this season and anticipation for the day. After the warm reception at the door, we were amazed at the beautiful spread of food that continued grow as more and more Witches arrived. Soon there were about 60 women of all ages wearing beautiful hats.


The food was spread through several rooms of this house that has many tales to tell of the previous lives who have once filled these walls. The back family room, with a wall of windows and French doors leading to a courtyard, hosted a table of grog, which included soft drinks, water, beer and nearly every kind of wine under the sun. There were more hors'duerves(sp?) than I had ever seen in one place, and a table of desserts that I’d only seen in the south. We grazed, and chatted, and drank, and grazed.

Shanon and I were like two children in Disneyland, as we marveled at how much fun women of all ages could have together and the deep south culture at even a Witches party. Being new to the area, most of the Witches had the faces of strangers, yet as we meandered through, Witch after Witch introduced themselves and proceeded to share their own historical stories of Mobile. We were amazed at how nearly everyone not only knew the history of their own families, but also the city and state and they loved to talk about it and tell stories.

I thought about Mom and how much she would have loved this party and would have loved being a Witch. Although Panama City is beautiful, it certainly is not the old south. Like Syracuse, many don’t know their own family histories, let alone that of their city or state. Mom loved the old south traditions. She loved to host dinners and parties. I wished, so much that she was at the Witches’ party too, yet, here we were, and there she was, dying.

That night, as Shanon and I walked home, we talked about Miss. Blighe and Miss. Martha. We made a pact that if they ever stop the tradition we will carry it on. I thought about how lucky they were to be Witches together at their age and remembered a promise I made to Shanon long ago, when she was afraid I would die; that we would be old ladies together. I fought back tears as I knew Mom and I never would be old together and I secretly wished that it was she and I who were hosting the Witches party. We would have been such cool old ladies! Now it is just Shanon and I, my daughter and fellow Witch. We walked hand in hand on the warm, balmy night in October, under the Live Oaks and the light of the full moon streaming through the trees, dreaming of the day when we will be old ladies together, steeped in tradition and hosting deep south parties; The two Witches of South Georgia.