observes.

However, as the narrative progresses, his tone begins to shift. While a sense of bitterness has always threaded through Night Terrors, in "Footprints in the Snow," this bitterness starts to eclipse his humor. His imagery becomes vivid and expressive: "I could taste the anger in my mouth, metallic and bitter." By the time we reach "Digger's Goodbye," he is engulfed by his own fury, his tone transformed into that of a man whose wrath has drowned his better judgment and obscured the line between right and wrong.

The Anger of Digger

Digger's fury towards the affluent simmers intensely beneath the surface. In "Footprints in the Snow," his gaze lingers on a leisurely couple, snagging on "the man's gleaming gold watch and his four hundred dollar Italian shoes." His life has been a series of solitary retreats into cemetery supervision, an escape repeatedly interrupted by the wealthy, who often ousted him from his sanctuary. Whether it was developers bulldozing his workplace or demanding he desecrate the earth with a backhoe, their disregard infuriated him. From his earliest days of grave digging to his return to Garrison, New York, he has regarded his craft as an art form—each cemetery, grave, coffin, and corpse deserving the reverence only hand-dug graves can offer. For him, it's a labor of devotion, one the rich seem all too ready to dismiss.

Bitterness in Garrison

Garrison holds a particular sting for Digger. It was here that he discovered his passion for grave digging and caring for cemetery grounds, yet it was also the stage for a father's cruel mockery. The father belittled him with shameful names, only to squander his son's earnings in a drunken rage, turning violent. Fleeing from such torment, Digger carved out a life of relentless toil. Yet, age finds him back in the city that symbolizes his disgrace, a return that fuels his bitterness and intensifies his resentment toward the path his life has taken.

Digger's Struggles

"Footprints in the Snow" and "Digger's Good-bye" do not delve into the intricate recesses of his psyche. Instead, they sketch his sorrows and grievances with broad, bold strokes: a child of abuse, an adult misunderstood, overshadowed by a society morphing in disconcerting ways, and perpetually at the mercy of faceless wealth. The narratives offer a sliver of social critique, more apparent to those familiar with Murphy’s histories, such as Across America on an Emigrant Train and The Great Fire. These works highlight the struggles and societal contributions of the working class, casting a sympathetic eye on their subjugation by the affluent and powerful. Within this context, Digger emerges as a figure shaped by Murphy’s historical exploration, yet unique in his ability to unleash his fury through supernatural means. Much like the werewolves of medieval Europe—misunderstood individuals, consumed by the might and fearsome allure of the wolf—Digger is this era’s counterpart. His lifetime of victimhood is inverted; now, in his werewolf form, he hunts the rich who once preyed upon him.

Murphy's tales are a reflection of his literary passions, capturing the essence of what thrilled him as a young reader. His short stories, in particular, delve into the realm of horror fiction. In his anthology, Night Terrors, the narratives range from the straightforward "Just Say Yes," a tale of a girl grappling with the seductive choice to become a vampire, to the intricate "The Cat's-Eye" (elaborated in another entry). The stories are woven together by Digger's narratives, shared as eerie accounts he encountered while toiling in graveyards. The collection begins with "Digger's Promise," where Digger recounts his initiation into grave digging at the tender age of fourteen, sixty-three years prior, in the quiet town of Garrison, New York. He confides, "I will say that if you hang around cemeteries long enough you hear about a lot of strange things and some of them are worth repeating," inviting his audience to "call me Digger."

The Digger stories transcend their role as mere connectors, evolving into a novella with its distinct plot and characters, culminating in a chilling conclusion. The sequence's second tale, "Digger in Paradise," sketches his antisocial character; he quips, "I like nice and fuzzy about as much as I like a boil on the tip of my nose." As a grave digger, he earns more than his father, a fact that gnaws at his father's pride, leading to familial conflict and eventual abuse. Seeking solace, Digger abandons his hometown, discovering a picturesque cemetery to continue his work. Yet, "Paradise Lost" shatters this idyll when the cemetery falls into the hands of developers eager to erect homes rather than honor graves. It is here that Digger encounters Alan A. Crinslow, also known as Alan Allan, echoing through "Footprints in the Snow" and "Digger's Good-bye."

He was short and hunched over, leaning on a crutch because his right leg was missing. He had the whitest hair I'd ever seen, not much, but white, and the darkest, most leathery skin you can imagine. You could tell that he'd spent most of his life outdoors doing hard labor.

The sight of Alan Allan's missing leg ignites Digger’s imagination, leading him to conjure the vision of the three-legged wolf as Alan Allan.

"Don't fool yourself, son," he [Alan Allan] said by way of greeting. "You'll be dead and dust long before this old dog is gone."

Of course, I liked him right away.

This remark, laden with irony, foreshadows events in "Footprints in the Snow" and "Digger's Goodbye," while shedding light on Digger's complex nature. Though largely antisocial, Digger prefers the silent company of the deceased, who do not chatter endlessly. However, in "Paradise Lost," his character deepens, revealing a fondness for fellow misanthropes.

As time marches on, Digger's eccentricities amplify. In "The Worst Day of My Life," he muses, "Something about standing six feet in a hole that will be somebody's home for all time... made me feel good. Like I was making something that would last for eternity." This sentiment fuels his disdain for mechanical diggers, which disrupt his intimate connection with the graves he crafts. By the story's conclusion, Digger finds himself mired in misery, convinced he is enduring his bleakest day. He decides to open a note given to him by Alan Allan, advising him only to read it on his darkest day. The note foretells Digger's eventual journey to Florida, urging him to seek out Miriam. This prophecy becomes a catalyst, drawing him into a web of "dark and dangerous forces."

After drifting through various jobs, Digger succumbs to Alan Allan's prophecy and ventures to Florida. In "Deep into It," he encounters Miriam Bunnell, an eccentric steward of vast swathes of swampland, including the Miriam Bunnell Cemetery: "She was a big woman, over six feet four inches tall, and she loved to talk." She affectionately dubs her cemetery "The Yard." Yet, the place unsettles Digger, as its swampy terrain thwarts his preferred method of burial. Water seeps into shallow holes, and by nightfall, coffin-sized concrete cases vanish into the wet earth. Following the funeral, the deceased is placed atop the grave, with a concrete lid as cover, only to disappear by dawn. "The Yard" is perhaps the eeriest of all Digger’s workplaces, but he stubbornly maintains the routines he established in his youth, including nocturnal patrols. Miriam warns him of lurking dangers in the shadowy Slough. The subsequent tale, "Something Always Happens," underscores the perils of the Okaloacoochee Slough, recounting the grim fate of three boys ensnared by cannibals. With these ominous events looming, Digger concludes his adventures by confronting the sinister forces in "Footprints in the Snow" and "Digger's Good-bye."

Murphy, Jim. Something about the Author. Volume 77. Edited by Kevin Hile and Diane Telgen. Detroit: Gale, 1994. An insightful overview of Murphy's illustrious career, enriched with captivating photographs and a compelling interview.

Shook, Bruce Anne. Analytical perspective on Night Terrors. Published in School Library Journal (September 1993): 252. This critique of Night Terrors highlights "Footprints in the Snow" and "Digger's Good-bye," and Shook bestows high accolades upon the work.

Zvirin, Stephanie. Critique of Night Terrors. Featured in Booklist (October 1, 1993): 332. A laudatory review.