Sunbonnet Soliloquy

By Jewell Ellen Smith

Stars on Alabama (November 13, 1833)

One of my Enterprise friends, Mabel S. Patton, is much interested in Alabama folklore. She says that Alabamians who like to tell old time tales and legends often begin their stories with a reference to “the night the stars fell.”

These story-tellers are inclined to divide local history into two segments: before the stars fell and after the stars fell. That would make November 13, 1833, the dividing line, Mrs. Patton explains.

Not long ago Mrs. Patton lent me a paper she had prepared, titled “Alabama Folklore,” and in it she, too, begins with a description of that famous night the stars fell on Alabama. She says, in part:

“The event itself was never forgotten by those who witnessed it nor by the generations of listeners who heard first-hand accounts of a November sky bright with blazing, darting meteors.

“Thousands of Alabamians, thinking the end of the world was at hand when they saw the heavenly spectacle, fell to their knees to plead for mercy and forgiveness. Others promised eternal renunciation of sin if they were spared.

“...Now, even the spiny starfish that wash ashore on Alabama’s sand beaches are reminders of the stars that plummeted from the heavens. Some people, the poetic types, say the starfish are those very stars themselves that fell into the sea and were changed into living creatures.”

There is a true story of how a star -- or a fragment of one -- fell on Alabama around high noon on Nov. 30, 1954 and hit a woman named Mrs. Hewlett Hodges of Sylacauga. She became known as “the only human being ever struck by a heavenly body.”

Mabel Patton tells that star story this way:

“Mrs. Hodges had stretched out on her couch to take a nap after her midday dinner. All of a sudden, she heard an awful noise, and something hit her left arm and hip. She opened her eyes and saw a good size hole in the ceiling and in the roof above the couch. Lying beside her on the couch was a big black rock.

“There was enough of an explosion associated with the event to alert the police. They arrived at the scene, saw what had happened but were uncertain as to what action they should take.

“Somebody remembered the old saying about ‘treat for shock and send for doc.’ So they did. By the time the doctor got there, neighbors, curiosity seekers, various government officials and such had arrived.

“One official described the rock as having an irregular shape, weighing nine pounds, and being about six inches in diameter. The inside was a metallic, granular, gray substance, and the outside was coated with a smooth substance like black satin.

“When Mr. Hodges arrived from work, later in the evening, saw the hole in the roof and was told the story, he wanted to see the rock. Well, it was gone. A helicopter had flown in from Maxwell Air Force Base and picked up the rock.

“This upset Mr. Hodges. ... He hired a lawyer. The lawyer traced the rock to Washington, D. C. ... It was returned to Talladega County and after Mr. Hodges took a good look, he placed it in a vault...

“A real court battle shaped up. (This, between the owner of the house in which the Hodges family lived, and Mr. and Mrs. Hodges. The landlady contended that since she owned the house, anything that fell through the roof belonged to her. Mrs. Hodges was sure that since the star rock hit her, it belonged to her.)

“...The case dragged on until the landlady agreed Mrs. Hodges could have the rock if they would give her $500.00 when they sold it.

“The meteorite is now on display at the Museum of Natural History at the University of Alabama. Mrs. Hodges gave it to the museum in March, 1956.

“Before she gave it away, she said, ‘I wish it had fallen a mile down the road and not hit me or anybody.’ And they say she said that a hundred times or more.”

Published May 1981. Click your browser’s ‘Back’ key to return.