Singleton tells of the mysterious comings, goings of the whippoorwill

Adult male Eastern whippoorwill.

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Time for storm of the whippoorwill is at hand” was originally published in the April 22, 1976 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

As the warm days of spring creep across the land and the trees burst forth with gay green coats, the time for the whippoorwill storm is at hand.

One night in the near future, when the spring lightning flashes and the soft wind sways the treetops, the little brown and white bird will arrive on the scene.

No one knows where these little birds come from.

An old Indian legend speaks of them riding the winds of the first spring storm. After this first storm, along about sundown on the following day, the sad, familiar cry rides the evening air.

Then throughout the spring and summer months, the call of the whippoorwill is heard across the countryside.

The whippoorwill’s cry has meant many things to many people throughout the years.

To some, the call of the whippoorwill means sadness; to others it’s a sound of solitude and restfulness. To the old settlers, it meant that all was well. When there is danger present, the whippoorwill ceases his calling, and remains quiet until the danger is past.

During the early Indian Wars, both sides used this little bird as a watchdog in the evening when the shadows lengthened and darkness crept across the land. Odd that a creature with the intelligence that a man possesses would stake his life on the alertness of a small, timid creature such as the whippoorwill.

A few minutes’ sleep

But many many times, a weary settler would settle back and catch a few minutes’ sleep so long as the call of the whippoorwill could be heard. The moment the call ceased, he would wake up and seek cover and defend his possessions.

Then one evening as the sulky days of August draw to a close, the wailing cry of the whippoorwill will be heard no more. He will have gone as suddenly as he came, one the winds of mystery, for another season.

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)