The next story I'm going to share with you was told to me by Junior Scoutmaster Emma Jeanette Pierce.  I'm also going to confess I went a little overboard with the name of the story. I don't apologize for it at all though, mostly because it conjures up perfectly the vibe I want to capture with these stories.

The Ghostly Dancer at the Annual Cotillion Ball
Told By
Emma Jeanette Pierce

Each year at the end of the annual summer camp, my home camp, Camp Pocahontas sponsors a Cotillion Ball for all scouts sixteen to eighteen years old. For many it's a special, almost magical night where memories are made. I like to think it's all the magic of prom without the drama that follows. The crowning moment comes when one of the eighteen year old scouts is selected as “Camp Queen” and one of the sixteen or seventeen year olds is selected as “Camp Princess” our version of the traditional “Prom Queen” and “Prom Princess” Respectfully.

It also gives the scouts a chance to be social with the boys from across the lake. Now the story I'm going to tell you focuses on my own Cotillion Ball, one where I was crowned “Camp Princess”. Now, I remember that night. It was in the summer of two thousand twenty one. That summer we had all told five hundred scouts attending the camp. I had just turned sixteen before the start of camp and was doing my first tour as “Junior Leader”. And well it was rough.

I mean you take a sixteen year old girl and put her in charge of twelve girls who range in ages of six to twelve and see how long she can keep her sanity. The answer is not for long unless she has a good support network. She does learn respect for her mother.

Anyway I'd spent the morning leading up to the Cotillion getting the full treatment. The Scoutmaster at the time, a fearsome woman with steel gray hair and ice cold eyes had charted us a bus and had taken us nearby Meridian to get all dolled up. And I mean get dolled up, I mean we were put through the paces. Total wax jobs, our hair was washed, trimmed and deep conditioned, our nails were cut and polished, everything was just perfect. I left there feeling like a princess.

Anyway, the Cotillion was held at Elizabeth Josephine Hall. A large, spacious dance hall. Elizabeth Josephine Hall was the oldest building at Camp Pocahontas and was used only for special events. On this night the floor had been buffed and polished to a high gloss. Like you could see your reflection in grains of wood.

Anyway, returning to the story, I felt like a princess as I entered the crowded hall. That night there were around twenty scouts attending the Cotillion Ball and around twenty other scouts from across the lake. All the girls were dressed in formal, strapless prom dresses and the boys were all dressed in coats and ties. 

And well it did not take me long to get into the groove of things. I soon found myself moving my hips and feet to the beat. And well the music was heavy and loud and my pulse was racing. And soon the air became charged with what I can only call “Teen Spirit”. And then I spotted her. Standing to the side was a girl, a girl who looked to be around my age. She had curly blonde hair and wore this really puffy prom dress. She looked like something from a teen thriller from the eighties. Like she had just stepped off the cover of a R.L Stine novel or a Christopher Pike novel. 

“Hey!” I said as I walked up to the girl
The girl smiled and nodded at me.

“Love the dress.” I said smiling.

“Thanks! Love yours!” She said smiling.

“Oh! I'm Emma! I'm one of the Junior Leaders here!” I said, yes we kind of had to shout at each other because of the loud tempo of the music that filled the hall.

“Oh! Cool! I'm Hannah! Hannah Goodchild! I'm a Junior Leader too! Kind of hard to have a conversation with all the music playing!” The girl said, smiling sweetly. “What cabin are you in?”

Now, before I go on. I should tell you a little bit about Camp Pocahontas, the camp has thirty something cabins. And two barrack-like buildings. The oldest cabins, that to say the first ones built and thus located in the center of the camp are named are all named after characters from the classic Disney animation film “Bambie” there were five such cabins, their names were Bambi, Thumper, Flower, and Faline. I was in Faline that year and I knew every girl in that cabin.  This must be understood for the next part to make any sense.

“Oh I'm in Faline” I said smiling. “Kind of old and a bit musty, but I heard they're going to redo it soon.” I said, rolling my shoulders.

At that point Hannah blinked and blinked again as she peered toward me. The look she was giving me kind of made me wonder if I'd just sprouted a second head and that second head had just started barking in Latin.

“I'm in Faline..” She said blushing. “But I've never seen you around.. weird..” She paused. “Anyway I need to use the bathroom.. see you around Emma..” And that the last time I saw Hannah that night.

Now there is an old saying that goes like this, “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.” and well there was just something about Hannah that had really piqued my curiosity. And so I decided to do a little  detective work. 

Now with the advent of the internet and the rise of social media, any tech-savvy teenager with a nose for snooping can find a wealth of information if they just know a few facts about somebody including their first and last name. Plus, I had access to all the camp archives. 

And so I started to snoop. The first thing I did however was check the camp archives, which revealed that there had indeed been a girl scout by the name of Hannah Goodchild who had gone to camp here. She had gone to camp during summer of eighty three, she was sixteen at the time, and she had indeed been assigned to sleep at Faline.

Okay.. right now I was thinking that maybe Hannah had grown up, gotten married, had a daughter who she had also named Hannah and now Hannah was attending the camp. But I quickly dismissed that because I was in Faline, and I knew every scout that was in Faline and none of them were named Hanna Goodchild. So I kept digging.

So I kept digging. And then I found of all things  A obituary, well two, the first one was published in the Yazoo Herald and was hidden behind a paywall. But if I'd ponied up fifty cents I could view the page. Safe the say I ponied up the fifty cents. The second one was published in the annual yearbook that the staff of the camp put together. The first one simply gave her name, Hannah D. Goodchild,  age, sixteen, born in Flowood Women's Hospital. Was survived by her mother Brenda S. Goodchild and and her father Noah S. Goodchild of Yazoo City, Mississippi. Her grandmother and grandfather, Ruth S. Guilder and Robert D. Guilder of Benton, Mississippi and Cindy A Cutter and John D. Cutter of Sharbrough's Landing.

She was buried in Glenwood Cemetery and had been confirmed at St. George's Episcopal Church. She was a Girl Scout and a Sophomore at Manchester Academy. The cause of death was simply listed as peritonitis. 

And that was that. Make of this story what you will, I know it true, and I know that others have seen her. I think she remains earthbound because she passed away the morning of the ball. And well, she was going to be named “Princess” that night. 

The End.