Truth and Folklore: The Mailbox House of Professor Perrow

The Myth

The folktale goes like this:

There's a haunted house in the south of Gilmer County where the owner used to pick up and send his mail. All the kids in Gilmer called it the Elf House. The builder was a lawyer from New York or the Midwest. He retired and moved to North Georgia and built the Elf House so his rejected manuscripts would have a place to land because they wouldn't fit in a regular mailbox. It was said he only lived there for ten years in a small house with few conveniences. He was reclusive, had no friends, and wanted nothing to do with church. The old man had a very large, mean-spirited black dog that matched his disposition.

One day the mailman noticed the reclusive man's mail stopped being collected and he contacted the authorities. The man and his dog were gone. Years later, teens from Gilmer County visited the house and although the old man was gone they were startled by the sound of a large hound. The teens ran and climbed a tree. Although the dog could be heard menacingly beneath them, it was not visible. This tale is known as the Phantom Dog of the Elf House.

This story is obviously based on Professor Eber Carle Perrow's mailbox house in North Pickens County. It is close enough to the Gilmer County line to perhaps confuse it with someone who has never had access to Google or a map. The fact the house was used for mail retrieval and correspondence is the only accurate part of the tale.

Professor Perrow moved to Pickens in 1919 and lived nearly there for fifty years, not ten. He was a retired English Professor, not an attorney. He retired from Louisville, Kentucky, not New York or Chicago. He didn't have failed manuscripts, but had works published on Folksongs and Last Wills and Testaments. He wasn't reclusive and frequently walked to Jasper from his home near Ball Creek. Not only did he not dislike church, he frequently taught Sunday School in several churches in Pickens County. He could even read the bible in its original languages.

Don't get me wrong, folklore and urban legends are supposed to carry a grain of truth with them. Perhaps the moral of this fable is don't trespass on someone's property unless you want to get hurt. But I believe the inspiration of the story is the interesting construction style of Perrow's mailbox house. I'm not sure why they equated it with elven construction, it certainly wasn't small, nor did it resemble anything in the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Maybe someone once caught a look at the thin professor and his long white haired beard and wizened face and thought of Gandalf. But this is conjecture at best and could be my mind attempting to retroactively explain a relationship where there is none.

The Real Story

There is an actual inspiration for Perrow's mailbox house and its origin came from his own words. Perrow graduated from Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts. There is an old powder house, also located in Cambridge: A gristmill built in 1704 that later served as an ammunitions storage room shortly before the start of the Revolutionary War.

In Perrow's own words:

"I modeled it after the old powder house at Cambridge, Mass., where Americans stored ammunition before the battles of Concord and Lexington."

Old powder house located near Cambridge, Massachusetts

Perrow's mailbox house today.

Perrow built his mailbox house around 1960. It featured a domed cement roof, a working fireplace, chimney, bench and a built-in mailbox. There was even a sundial beside it at one time to tell if the postal carrier, Norman Low, was on time.

The Low Family Connection

Earlier today, I ran into longtime Pickens County resident Donnie Low. I remembered that nearly five decades earlier Donnie visited Perrow's mailbox house and took this iconic photo. It is still Donnie's favorite photo of him ever taken.

Donnie Low perched atop Professor Perrow's mailbox.

When I mentioned it was likely his relative Norman Low from Talking Rock who years before delivered mail to Perrow's mailbox house, he was stunned. It's a small world after all.

Fact or Fiction?

In my opinion, the facts behind the mailbox house of Perrow are far more interesting than the fictional tripe made up by local trespassers and hooligans. On Facebook, several residents of Gilmer reminisced of days heading out to Perrow's property, mistakenly believing it to be in their county, partying, messing around, and avoiding being allegedly shot at by a woman who lived in a nearby silo house just up the road.

One would think the legend of the elf house and menacing hound would have served to ward off any adventures onto the property. In actuality, the scary stories inspired their curiosity even further, tempting them closer to the potential dangers the property held. Therein lies the conceit. If you don't want to draw attention to something, don't concoct elaborate lies to ward off the commoner - flies to the flame.