By Dr. Curtis Varnell
Halloween was approaching and everyone was getting into the mood as Mrs. Todd and I returned with a group of students to the Future Business Leaders from a conference in Little Rock. A few days prior, ghost stories of Arkansas had just come out in local papers and a couple of the stories involved local sites. Mrs. Todd waxed eloquent as she expounded on the story, “guys, this happened right off the interstate at Pottsville. There is a really old bridge on highway 64 across Galla Creek. Just last week, a man approaching the bridge saw a young girl in a white dress sitting at the end of the bridge. Being a really cold and bleak night, much like right now, he stopped to help. The young girl was freezing and told him she had been involved in an accident and needed to go just up the road to get home. He wrapped his large coat around her, placed her in the back seat, and drove rapidly to the nearby home. Running to the door, he knocked furiously until it was answered by an elderly man. When he asked for help, the man told him he was the third one that week and sadly, the girl would not be in the car. Years previously, a car had left the road and had overturned in the frigid water beneath the bridge, resulting in the untimely death of the teen-aged girl. For years, she had haunted the bridge, constantly looking for a way back home and to the parents who were awaiting her arrival. He was right, returning to the car, the man found his coat carefully folded and placed on the car seat.” The kids, scattered in seats throughout the bus, guffawed at the story. Following her cue, I turned off at the Pottsville cutoff and onto the old road over Galla Creek. Leaves danced across the deserted road, accompanying the slight wind and drizzle of the winter night. Fog rose from the beneath the bridge as we approached, spidery wisps and tendrils drifting over the cold, black asphalt. The sign loomed out of the darkness, Galla Creek bridge. I slowed the bus to a crawl as we drifted through the fog and over the bridge, headlights creating spooky images and figures in mist. Suddenly realizing where we were, a mass exodus began as kids leaped to their feet in a suddenly desperate effort to get to the front of that bus with we teachers. For miles, all we heard was nervous whispers.
Mrs. Todd knew how to have a good time. On another trip, she had me visit a huge marble building near Clarksville that she explained had demonic and gargoyle like figures appear in the rock after it was used to clad the outside of the building. The telephone pole identification for the road was 666. Might have been imagination or simple weathering, but her description was very accurate and was sure to inhabit the dreams of many of her students for nights to come.
Halloween brings out the best of those stories. Every community has them. I once assisted a crew film part of the old T.B. sanitarium at Booneville. I had been there during the day and the huge imposing building with silent halls that echoed with your footsteps was spooky enough during the daytime. At night, it was ghastly and I made every effort to ensure that I had plenty of company around at all times.
Nearly everyone has a few superstition and fears, perhaps a part of our heritage and there are so many spooky and unexplained events that it keeps us fretting, especially on Halloween as we reflect back on those stories. One of my uncles explained that he had no superstitions and was afraid of nothing. Renting a house near New Blaine that was said to be haunted, he explained with bravado that nothing would bother him. He lasted one night. Sound asleep in his bed, every light suddenly came on. Getting up and heading to check the switch, the lights went off. Minutes later, the cycle repeated. Two cycles later, his clothes were loaded in his car and he was on his way elsewhere to sleep.
Halloween and fall are great family times. Start up a campfire, tell some spook tales while roasting some hot dogs and making s’mores, and enjoy our beautiful autumn weather.
