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Growing up in the Bluegrass state came with all manner of urban legends. From the legend of the Pope Lick monster, the tales of Waverly Hills Sanatorium, or the Hopkinsville Goblins, there was no shortage of horrors in the Commonwealth to frighten the youngins' minds. But there was always one that stuck with me as a kid, and I've never seen it talked about online: Dan the Devil's Man.
To be a kid in our town and not have been told the rhyme, whether by an adult around a campfire or a kid on the playground, was unlikely.
Dan, Dan, the Devil's Man
Churchwarden's smoke curls in his hand
Traded souls for fame and might
Now he screams in endless night
Tap-tap-tap, he's at your door
Red eyes gleam, he wants some more
Don't let Dan inside to play
Or he'll steal your soul away
Some adults shied away from or even shunned talk of Dan but not my grandfather — he told me and my sisters all about Dan. Like many urban legends, it held a facet of truth. In the early 1960s, Dan had been an average middle-class family man in town, working a 9 to 5, coming home to his wife and kids to smoke his pipe and pout about his life, rinse and repeat day after day. But Dan craved more from this world. No longer did he wish to drive his Plymouth Valiant Wagon that always seemed to have issues, or to eat meatloaf when he dreamt of steak and lobster, to not wear suits off the rack from JCPenny when he could have custom-made Italian garb.
The nicest thing Dan owned was a BBB Churchwarden, a pipe he cherished. He'd smoke long into the night, bowl after bowl, before letting it cool with his evening tea before polishing the bowl and cleaning the stem. It was one of these late nights that Dan's mind began to wander to the crossroads, to thoughts of deals with the Devil, to handshakes with the creatures of the night. What started with idle thoughts turned to reading about the dark arts and before long, obsession.
The basement was quickly sealed off from his family. He'd spend hours upon hours late into the night, bumping and scraping down there with the smoke from his pipe rising from down below. What exactly Dan did varies from storyteller to storyteller; some say he stole neighbors' pets; using them dead or alive for the rituals in the basement, he self-mutilated for his needs, and others say he attempted seances with darker forces that go bump in the night.
Nobody can say for certain what Dan's activities were except for the night of October 13, 1961. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed, the wind howled with heavy rain pelting the town. It was during the Devil's hour that Dan woke his family and took them to shelter in the basement. Safety was not on Dan's mind, however; as his family descended into the basement, he locked the door, and they were greeted with Dan's hammer before they could say more. A pentagram was drawn in the center of the basement with their blood and with candles at the star's points.
While Dan chanted his rites over the corpses of his family, somehow a candle fell over and gave way to flame. Dan was too entranced to notice at first, but soon a mighty fire did roar as if Hell had come knocking at Dan's door. The fire spread quickly, and the house was ablaze. Dan couldn't open the door all the way, and his screams were heard for miles around in the midst of the town's silence. They say his screams were dragged away by the howls of coyotes, but most say it was hellhounds that had come to drag him away.
When first responders arrived at Dan's home, it was too late. They combed the house for survivors; finding the locked basement door, and breaking it down, they found three corpses and nothing more. The house was charred and broken except for the floor where the pentagram did sit, unharmed, and the blood still wet. An all-points bulletin was quickly put out for Dan, and legends did spread, of a dark, charred man with glowing red eyes who smoked a pipe with jet-black finish as dark as coal, with a long stem that glowed like the embers of that fiery blaze.
The legends said that every year around Halloween, Dan the Devil's Man came to play. There were warning signs that Dan was coming, it was said. His glowing red eyes pierced the night as he watched from afar; the smell of his pipe, of sulfur and burning flesh, carried in black clouds of smoke in the wind. He would slink around to all the children left home on Halloween, tap-tap-tapping on their door. If they were foolish enough to open the door, they'd be greeted with nothing at first. But when they lay in their beds at night, as their eyes began to get heavy, they'd start to smell Dan's pipe and the creaking and cracking of his charred black skin as Dan began to close in to steal their souls.
They still talk about Dan in my hometown to this day, and in a way, Dan got the fame he so desperately wanted. I was reminded of this story when I saw the release of Peterson's Halloween pipes for 2024. Each pipe of this collection is rendered in a demi-Churchwarden style with black-and-red-swirled acrylic Fishtail stems like that of their famous Dracula series and Dan's charred skin. Each pipe is finished with a jet-black finish as dark as midnight. It was like they'd heard the tale of Dan's pipe themselves when they crafted it.
It seems they were kind enough to have gifted me one. Or at least, that's what I thought when I first saw it sitting on my desk. I don't remember ordering it. I don't remember anyone coming into my office. But there it is, gleaming with that jet-black finish, smoke curling from its bowl, though I haven't lit it.
As I type this, the scent of sulfur grows stronger, choking the air. The clacking of my keyboard is drowned out by a sickening crackle, like charred skin stretching and breaking. It's just my imagination, I tell myself. Just an old legend coming to life in my mind.
But then I hear it. Tap-tap-tap at my office door. Red eyes gleam through the crack in the door. The pipe on my desk pulses with hellish light.
Dan's come to play. And I fear he's not just after me. If you're reading this, be careful. Don't let him in. Don't let him steal your soul away.
For Dan the Devil's Man is real, and he's coming for us all.
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Comments
Dan might be the Devil’s man, but after reading this, I’m starting to think the Devil’s real power is getting us hooked on a good pipe... Who knew eternal damnation came with a fine blend and a comfy chair?
Hah great piece! I love that it gets pretty dark and then suddenly pivots to ad copy for Peterson. Feels a bit like some old radio show might have inserted a sponsor at the end of a story.Also, we knew Dan was on the road to perdition once he had forsaken the great Plymouth Valiant. :-D
Thanks for sharing this haunting piece of folklore, it really takes me back to those spooky campfire stories.
It'd be really cool to know how these urban legends influence the childhood experience and show the surrounding culture. I'd like to hear about this character as well, perhaps any stories associated with such encounters. Often the most fascinating will be that, more often than not, we're rediscovering forgotten lore, part of the tapestry of folklore for a region. Thanks again for sharing this slice of Kentucky spooky history!
That is an excellent yarn. I really enjoyed reading it.!