A close relative revealed to me that back in 1946, his great-grandfather took him and his brother for a walk down into an empty ravine. As they were walking, his grandfather began relating the story of a “sissified squatter” that used to have a small shack down on the ranch land they were walking on. He told them how nobody liked “sissy–boys” in those parts; He emphasized how that guy was just asking for trouble for acting like a girl.
The grandfather stopped the boys at one point on their hike, and pointed down into the mouth of a dark cave. There, he revealed some bones and a bleached-white human skull. “That’s where that sissy-boy rests today,” the grandfather told the horrified kids. “Let that be a lesson to you, Boys.”
The three of them walked home in silence, and the boys had nightmares with skeletons haunting their dreams for years thereafter.
If that relative was being truthful, then I’m so ashamed that I am related to that awful man.
Answer by Wendi Tibbets