Greetings! Welcome to the second post for Haunted Tales: True or False? For new people: this is a contest I’m running for the month of October. Here’s how it works:
- Read the story.
- Comment on whether you think the story is true or false.
- The following week, I’ll reveal the answer.
- Those who guessed right will be entered into a contest to win all three parts of The Bookwyrm Series!
Last week’s story was about the Summerville Light. No one commented, so no one is going to be entered. It’s a shame, really, because it was a freebie. It was both true and false.
It was true in that my mother told me the story, though I can’t really remember the circumstances in which she told it to me. But it really wouldn’t surprise me if she told it as a bedtime story and then expected me to fall asleep after that. That was just my mother. (And we really did own a screech owl named Screech.)
It’s false in that I’ve found no record of a group of sailors being burned to death in their car in Summerville, SC.
There is a Summerville Light (read more here and here) and it’s been regularly documented. But whether it’s a ghost or some naturally occurring phenomenon, it’s hard to say. The ghost story itself varies upon who you ask but everyone agrees that the light will chase people.
So, either answer would have gotten you entered in to win. Any comments on that post from this point forward will not be counted. On to this week’s tale of terror!
Not far from where I lived in Berkeley County, on a dirt road, a bridge spanned a creek that ran through the swamp. As far as bridges went, it was nothing special. Just concrete and rebar and whatever else goes into the making of bridges. We called it Crybaby Bridge.
It crossed a wonderful fishing spot. Many weekends, my father packed us up with our cane poles and craw fish traps and we went to Crybaby Bridge. I can’t count the number of catfish I pulled from the murky waters under the bridge.
One day, I asked my father how the bridge received its name. What he told me gave our sunlit outings a chilling air.
Years ago, on a moonless night, a car sped along the dirt road. In it was a man, a woman, and their infant child. The man, who was driving, had been drinking. His woman pleaded with him to slow down but, laughing, he drove all the faster.
When they reached Crybaby Bridge, something happened. Perhaps a deer jumped out of the woods or the drunk simply lost control. Whichever it was, the car left the road near the bridge and slammed into the trees.
It struck an old oak with such force that their baby, who wasn’t strapped well in the back, was thrown from the vehicle. Still alive, the baby cried from fear and pain, but no one lived near Crybaby Bridge. And its parents were dead, so no one could find the baby or go for help.
The child cried and cried and cried until it finally died from its injuries and exposure.
From then on, on moonless nights, if you go to Crybaby Bridge, you will hear the echoing cry of a child, dying in the woods, afraid and alone.
True or False?
Is this story true or false? Is there really a Crybaby Bridge and did this really happen? Comment below. If you’re right, you’ll earn a chance to win!