| Original Message |
adam
Posted Feb 24, 2008 9:14 PM
Like any other town in America, There are numerous foot, traffic, and railroad bridges that criss-cross throughout town. But there is one bridge near the downtown area that sets it apart from the other countless, aged bridges here.
The bridge in particular is a simple traffic bridge that runs one way traffic out of downtown. It ends just passed "Pergatory Creek" and is neighbored by a line of railroad tracks. Pergatory Creek got it's name well over a hundred years ago, when the town was being settled into, and construction on the downtown buildings began. The creek has a notorious history of flooding when the rain becomes relentless. Especialy during the rainy season beginning from early spring into early fall.
Back to the baby...
The so-called "Crying baby", or "Devil's Baby" which it was sometimes called due to the creek's name. Is an age old story handed down through generations. I first became enterested in this particular haunting while I was with a group of friends and we were exchanging local ghost stories. When I brought up the story of the haunted bridge, and the crying baby, I was surprised to learn that no one had ever heard the story before. For the simple fact that a few of the people in the group had been younger folks, and weren't so informed on local paranormal phenomenon. Which told me that the stories of our town were fading away and forgotten by modernization and the need to be in style with todays fads. And just sitting around the campfire telling ghost stories was also becomming a thing of the past.
So I came here, on this site to share this story with you. You know who you are. You enjoy a good story that'll make you say "Hmmmmm.." Or one that'll raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and when you crawl into bed in your darkened room you get the uncanny feeling that you're not there alone, as if someone was with you. Then you hate yourself for reading all those neat, creepy stories that seem to go bump in the night...
The story is of a baby that was washed away during one of the many historical tragic floods in our town's history. It was late spring of 1883, the streets then were just mud paths that crissed-crossed the areas of downtown. The townspeople had just endured a seven month drought, and it had all come to an abrupt end just three days earlier with a violent downpour that seemed to have no end.
The names by now are all but lost in the town's historical records, and by father time itself.
A family of four, consisting of a man, a woman, and their two children, a small boy near the age of seven, and an infant girl. The family were in town making their monthly purchases and picking-up grains and feed for livestock. plus building materials for their small farm that was located several miles outside of town.
The family had found themselves taking refuge in a local hotel as it had been too wet and stormy for them to make their way back home. On this third day of the storm, the rain seemed to have trickled off a bit. and it was then that the family made the fateful decision that would forever change thier lives, and bring birth to a sad and tragic story that would seem to continue to no end.
They gathered what little possessions they had carried with them, and checked-out of the hotel telling the owner that they felt it was a good time to make their way back home before the rains returned. They made their way to the stable and livery where their horses and wagon were being sheltered from the storms.
At that very moment, unknown to everyone back in town, the creeks and rivers had crested beyond their point and had begun to overflow in an urruption of flashfloods.
The family were making their way feeling somewhat relieved to get out from being cooped-up in a hotel room for three days and were jubilant over the thought of getting back home unaware of the danger that they would soon face.
They had made their way just at the outskirts of what is today downtown, and had been looking for a shallow area in the creek for which to cross. they had begun to cross, and all seemed well enough when the wagon wheels begun to stick into the muddy bottom of the creek bed. Along with the wieght of the supplies they were hauling back, this had worsened the situation and they began to slowly sink deeper. The horses whinned and snorted as they pulled to clear out the stuck wagon. But all were were doomed from the time they left the motel.
The man jumped out and desperately tried to push the wagon as his wife tried taking control of rein and bridal.
The water began to swiftly rise, and the current grew more powerful knocking the man over as he desperatly tried to pull himself back up. The woman and children were screaming with fear and desperation. The water had risen well over the hieght of the wagon's seat. and the man begged for his wife and children to hold on as best they can. Local townspeople heard their cries, and came running with ropes and horses. But by then the waters had turned into a raging river of mud and debris.
Several men made attempts to throw out a rope for them to catch and after several failed attempts they finaly were succssesful. The man tied a rope around his young son, and wife as she clutched her infant daughter close to her bosom the townspeople pulled and tugged, struggling to free the stranded family out from the clutches
of the raging waters. As the men of the town did their best to assist, debris from a fallen tree had been washed just upstream from the couple and their children, and was making it's way to the stranded family.
Shouts of the townspeople, and the screams of the terrified family filled the air. And suddenly, without time to react, the woman turned around to find herself and her baby in the path of a large branch of an oaktree.
It struck her violently, throwing her into a daze, and cuasing her to lose her grip on the baby. Women of the town screamed in horror as the baby had been washed away downstream, forever lost into the mud of pergatory creek...
Today an old, but more modern concrete bridge transcends Pergatory creek. Only a handful of people today know the great loss that took place there so many years ago. It is said, told and retold that at times after a rainy night that passersby on foot, can hear the screams of a dying baby. People who have heard the sound have compared it to the screams and cries of a cat. On several occasions the screams have been investigated but nothing had been turned up. It seemed as if the crying just manifested itself out of thin air. And witnesses proclaimed it was enough to make their skin crawl, and the hair on the back of their necks stand on end...
Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed sharing it!!!
---adam--- |
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