Is The Legend of the red fern real?

“The Legend of the Sacred Red Fern,” from Where the Red Fern Grows

by Wilson Rawls

“I had heard the old Indian legend about the red fern. How a little Indian boy and girl were lost in a blizzard and had frozen to death. In the spring, when they were found, a beautiful red fern had grown up between their two bodies. The story went on to say that only an angel could plant the seeds of a red fern, and they never died; where one grew, that spot was sacred.”

I am an anesthesiologist.

For six years, I practiced aggressive resuscitation, striving toward a capable left biceps brachii and a worthy grip. Full Code was a given, and life prolongation was the ultimate aim. The hours could be long, the physiology complex, the pace frenetic. Always, the threat of death loomed. Avoidance of this threat was the first way in which I measured my success.

I have just completed a year-long fellowship in hospice and palliative medicine.

For the past twelve months, I have had to undergo a profound paradigm shift. The year began with the ringing of a Tibetan singing bowl, and a discussion of our feelings. I nearly left. I concentrated… hard… on not rolling my eyes. I questioned what I had just done by leaving my practice, and how I would ever survive such contrived melodrama.

Except that it wasn’t contrived. And it wasn’t melodramatic. It was life. And it was death. And it was the denial of my feelings surrounding these two entities that had filled me with the burnout and frustration that sent me in search of a different way of practicing medicine.

This year I have learned that death does not always equate to failure, and that letting go is not the same as giving up. In fact, when done well, in peace and in comfort, with dignity intact, dying can be the most freeing act of one’s life.

I saw what a life well-lived looks like, just as I saw ones filled with regret and sorrow. I cared for patients who left behind generations of legacy, just as I cared for ones whose legacy lives in the hearts of their parents and young siblings.

I realized that practicing good medicine isn’t just about physiology and pharmacology and avoiding perioperative complications, it is also about getting to know my patients’ thoughts, fears, faiths, and desires, and walking alongside them when they most need to be heard. It is about life. And it is about death. And everything that comes between.

So today, alongside my skills for providing aggressive resuscitation, I can provide aggressive symptom management. Accompanying my desire for a bionic left upper extremity, I strive for bionic ears to hear what is really being said, and a God-like soul to know how best to respond.

I tell my husband that I adore him. I listen to my child, even though he’s only two years old. I call my grandmothers. I plan more vacations. I apologize.

And I remember my patients. For they are the ones who have taught me these lessons. They are the ones who showed me how best to live. They are the ones whose stories I recall when I need patience and wisdom and humility.

Beside each one, a red fern grows.

Copyright © 2013, the American Society of Anesthesiologists, Inc. Lippincott Williams & Wilkins.

2013

Where the Red Fern Grows, Woodrow Wilson Rawls’s touching tale of a boy and his loyal hounds, has been captivating audiences since its publication in 1961. Even if you loved the book when you read it in school, you may not know about Rawls’ background and inspirations for this classic coming-of-age tale. 

“Woody” Rawls was born in Oklahoma’s Ozark Mountains in 1913. He was one of six children, and since there was no school in the area, most of the family’s education came from his mother. She taught the kids to read and write as best she could; the children would take turns reading aloud to the group from whatever books she could get. When a school finally did open nearby, Rawls and his siblings had to wade across a river to get to class, and it was only open during summer months. Rawls put in four years at this modest school and later spent a few months in high school before the Depression forced him to get a job.

As a young child, Rawls wasn’t too interested in reading; he referred to stories like “Little Red Riding Hood” and “Chicken Little” as “girl stories”—he just couldn’t identify or connect with the mostly female protagonists. But one day, his mother brought home a book that changed his life: Jack London’s Call of the Wild. The story of a man and his dog resonated with him, and he began to dream of writing a book like it someday. He eventually shared this dream with his father, who told him, “Son, a man can do anything he sets out to do, if he doesn’t give up.” 

Although Rawls knew he wanted to be a writer from the time he was 9 or 10 years old, his unpolished command of spelling and punctuation doomed him in the eyes of prospective publishers. He wrote five manuscripts, including what would become Where the Red Fern Grows, but they were too rough to be published. Rawls later admitted, “The spelling was bad and I know absolutely no punctuation.”

Rawls eventually settled into life as a carpenter and moved to Idaho to work at a defense installation. While there, he met his wife, Sophie. Instead of admitting to Sophie that he secretly dreamed of becoming a writer, Rawls burned everything he had ever written just before they were married.

However, a few months later he confessed everything to Sophie, and she encouraged him to write again. In longhand, he replicated the story of a young boy and his hunting dogs.

All that was left of the original manuscript were charred remains, but Rawls knew the story by heart. With his wife's support, he quit his job in order to focus all of his time and energy on the rewrite. He wrote nonstop for three weeks and absolutely refused to let anyone, even Sophie, read it until it was finished.

He handed the manuscript over to Sophie and went to town for the day while she read. Rawls was sure Sophie would hate the novel. To his surprise, she called him and gushed, “Woody, this is marvelous. Come home and work on it some more and we'll send it to a publisher."

Since Sophie had formal education, she helped Rawls smooth out the spelling and grammar. She also suggested that he beef up the tale because she believed that it was “too short to be a novel but too long to be a short story.” Rawls set to work, and soon he had written his signature book—all 35,000 words in longhand! Sophie typed it up, and together they delved into the world of publishing.

Although the Post initially rejected Rawls’ story, it later accepted the work after the Ladies Home Journal sent it their way. (The Journal’s editorsfelt that it was not quite right for their magazine, but they liked it and wanted it to be seen.) In 1961 the tale was published as a three-part series titled The Hounds of Youth.

When Doubleday picked up the novel for publication as a book, it changed the title to Where the Red Fern Grows in an attempt to market the book to adult readers. Rawls said Doubleday “broke [his] heart,”­ because now his children’s coming-of-age story was not even reaching children. 

Before he settled down in Idaho, Rawls constantly wrote autobiographical fiction while traveling for work. He penned tales about the farms of the Ozark Mountains, stories that reminded him of stories from his youth. The first audience of these stories had been his own faithful boyhood companion, a bluetick coonhound.

Where the Red Fern Grows wasn’t an overnight success when Doubleday released it in 1961. Even several years after its publication, Rawls was still working as a carpenter, and by the mid-'60s the novel was scheduled to go out of print. Then Rawls got an invitation to speak at the Intermountain Conference on Children’s Literature in Salt Lake City. Again, Sophie saved the day. Rawls later said, “I had never spoken in public before. I woulda backed out if I could of, but my wife wouldn’t let me. I wondered what I had got myself into now.” 

Rawls must have wowed the assembled teachers. After they returned home to their schools, orders for the book began pouring in from around the country, and Where the Red Fern Grows was finally a hit. 

Rawls’s second novel, Summer of Monkeys, was published in 1976 and found even quicker success than Where the Red Fern Grows—perhaps due in part to his now reputable name.

Following the success of his books, Rawls received invitations to speak at schools across America, where he told the story of his life and offered writing advice to students. Visiting over 2000 schools before he passed away in 1984, Rawls always brought a powerful visual aid:

I always take my second original manuscript of Where the Red Fern Grows to show the youngsters. I want to stress to them how important it is to learn to spell, punctuate, and mainly how important it is for them to stay in school. They always look at the manuscript in disbelief.

Rawls encouraged students to begin writing and stressed that getting one’s ideas down on paper was the first and most important step. In a letter to aspiring writers, Rawls wrote, “Do a lot of reading … Read all the books you can find on creative writing … Do not wait to start writing. You are never too young to start.”

Is the Red Fern based on a true story?

Is there a legend about a red fern?

What is the Red Fern?

Is Where the Red Fern Grows historical fiction?