Staubs and Ditchwater A Friendly and Useful Introduction to Hillfolks' Hoodoo

Written by H. Byron Ballard

review by Marcianne Miller

Byron Ballard is a local writer, former Rapid River Magazine contributor, theatre director, avid gardener, community activist, wife and mother, a teacher, a preacher, and a raconteur. She’s also a witch.

She’s no wallflower witch, hiding in her broom closet. Byron is a buzzing bee, constantly in service to friends and clients, handling a popular blog and a busy speaking schedule. She’s a long-time participant in the city’s interfaith coalitions and civil rights efforts. A visionary, she’s a moving force behind Mother Grove, the local goddess temple, now located in a few rooms downtown and heading toward a grand space in the future.

What kind of witch are you?” people ask. “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” “I’m an excellent witch,” she laughs.

In her just-published book, Staubs and Ditchwater: A Friendly and Useful Introduction to Hillfolks’ Hoodoo,Byron reveals why she’s both an excellent witch and a unique one. A Buncombe County native, Byron comes from a family of Appalachian witches, Methodist churchgoers from ancient British stock who were born with “gifts.” Her great grandmother was a healer, her grandmother saw prophetic dreams, and her mother recognized discarnate spirits, a gift Byron’s daughter has inherited. From her forebears and other “granny women,” Byron learned the skills of Appalachian folk magic, a kind of “kitchen witchery,” that uses down-home ingredients and materials.

She expanded her native knowledge by learning from other folk traditions, becoming what is called a “rootworker,” someone who practices “rootwork” or cross-cultural folk magic. Enthused by the early feminist movement, she became a Wiccan priestess. In time, she married folk magic with paganism to create an exciting new witchcraft hybrid.

Her magical skillset became eclectic and wide-ranging. She would put salt, grits, vervain, and corn liquor into her basket to bring to neighbors who feared there were spirits in their house. Fresh from her garden, or dried and compounded on the old Welsh dresser workbench on her porch, she would make a concoction to help a friend recover from a summer cold. Byron rejects the honorific “wise woman,” in favor of simply being an “urban cove woman.”

Several years ago, I pleaded with Byron to teach others her knowledge of Appalachian magic. She almost chewed my head off. Wasn’t it enough, she complained, that “outsiders” had already taken the land’s music, dug out its coal, and ruined its hilltops with their fancy mansions? Couldn’t the mountain people keep this one aspect of their tradition to themselves? She didn’t exactly say, “Yankee Girl, go home,” but she came close.

Flash forward. It seems I wasn’t the only person who begged Byron to share her knowledge. And the passage of time had emphasized the harsh reality of the mountains’ changing demographics – young people were leaving the area without learning its traditions. Byron’s choice was difficult – should she hold onto the secrets of her native witchcraft tradition and risk letting it die out, or share it with outsiders?

She started teaching private workshops on Hillfolks’ Hoodoo – folk magic from the hills. The classes covered such topics as magic tools, working with your allies (such as ancestors and land spirits), and divination and omen-reading (my favorite). She offered many “receipts” (formulas or recipes) both from Appalachia and “borried” (borrowed) from other folk traditions, such as citrusy Florida water. She also included clever ideas of her own, such as an Energy Filter made of salt, black rocks, and a pie tin that clears out negative flow in a house. The response to the workshops was so positive that Byron decided the time was right for a book – thus Staubs and Ditchwater.

By the way, staubs are short, stout pieces of wood, often driven into the ground. They can be used as property markers, or to “drive in” intentions. Ditchwater is standing water, water that has lost its ability to flow. It’s particularly potent in many workings (don’t drink it!), such as anointings or in jar talismans.

Bottomline: This slim book, part memoir, part hoodoo primer, is not only lovely to read, but packed with hard-to find information for the beginning rootworker. Highly recommended. Available at local bookstores and author’s website.

Staubs and Ditchwater: A Friendly and Useful Introduction to Hillfolks’ Hoodoo; written by H. Byron Ballard; Silver Rings Press (2012); 122 pp.; paper $19.95