Mountain Ways with Jake Richards: Tales from a Conjure Man of Appalachia
Diving into the rich traditions of Appalachian folk magic brings us face-to-face with practices deeply rooted in community, faith, and necessity. In our conversation with Jake Richards, author and authentic conjureman from Appalachia, we explored the fascinating world of mountain folk traditions that have been misunderstood and often misrepresented in popular media.
Jake makes an important distinction between the terms commonly used in Appalachian spiritual practices. While many outsiders might lump everything under "witchcraft," the traditional distinctions are more nuanced. A witch was believed to draw power from the devil, a faith healer (sometimes called a "power doctor") drew authority from God, and a conjure man existed somewhere between—working for hire, with the ability to both heal and harm. This middle ground position gave conjurers a unique respect in mountain communities, as Jake explains, because "you never knew exactly how your standing was with him."
What makes Appalachian folk magic particularly fascinating is its practical, accessible nature. One traditional working setup requires only a Bible, a white taper candle, and occasionally a glass of water. The Bible, particularly the Book of Psalms, serves as what Jake describes as "a spell book" containing "curses, blessings, words of power for money, luck, health, for livestock." This interweaving of Christian scripture with folk practices reveals how mountain people adapted their spiritual traditions to suit their needs while maintaining their outward religious identity.
One of the most touching traditions discussed was Decoration Day—an Appalachian practice similar to Mexico's Day of the Dead. On a designated Sunday (typically in spring), communities would gather to clean cemetery grounds, decorate graves with flowers, and sometimes even conduct a second funeral service for all the deceased. The practice helped both the living and dead come to terms with grief and mourning. Traditional mountain graveyards weren't the manicured lawns we see today but swept dirt yards mirroring the homes of the living, with mounded graves heaped with earth and decorated with flowers—symbols of resurrection.
Throughout our conversation, Jake emphasized the importance of community service in Appalachian folk traditions. Unlike some modern magical practices that focus on personal gain, mountain conjure developed as a service to the community—whether stopping blood flow after an accident or bringing luck to a struggling family. As Jake beautifully put it, "When you truly go to lay hands on someone in faith or going in prayer to recommend them to the Spirit, whether it's for luck, love, money, whatever, you have to set yourself aside to let the power flow. It's kind of like what is needed is water, and you are just the pipe, you're not the water."
This perspective offers valuable wisdom for modern practitioners: authentic folk magic isn't about ego or personal power, but about becoming a conduit for something greater in service to others. In a magical community Jake describes as sometimes "toxic" due to selfishness and ego, this tradition of service presents a healing alternative—focusing on what we can give rather than what we can get.
