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The legend of cry baby bridge and its history
The legend of cry baby bridge and its history
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Cry Baby Bridge is a local legend in my hometown of Carmi, Illinois. The stories of this bridge have been passed down from generation to generation. Our parent always warned us not to go to the bridge after dark. A young women once hung her child, and then proceeded to hang herself from the bridge. On any given night you can hear the cries of a baby who is struggling for its life. Those who have been brave enough to go out there have horror stories of the things that happened. This bridge is in the middle of nowhere with the nearest town being Carmi, and the closer you get to the bridge the less cell phone signal you have till you reach the bridge and have no signal. The drive to Cry Baby Bridge involved mainly country roads. Of course I …show more content…
We stop talking for a second only to hear the cries of a baby. It sounded as if the baby was right below actually hanging beneath the bridge. At the same it felt like someone was breathing on me, and the air got even colder than before. At the same time that this is going on, I look up to my friends and see that Kenley’s hair looks as if she had rubbed a balloon for hours. It looked like something out of a creepy Halloween movie. While this is all going on the car lights are still flashing at us. All I heard after that was the screams of Arwen as she is suddenly pushed, nearly off the bridge. I quickly react, and grab her to keep her from falling into the cold, rock filled water below. Once we got her away from the edge we quickly ran off the bridge. Once we got back to the bridge we noticed that the windows of the car had been rolled down. At this point we didn’t care about how they got down, all we were worried about was getting out of there. Once we all got in the car, we attempted to start the car. At first the car sounded like it had a dead battery. But finally, after multiple attempts it …show more content…
The car would not go, and none of the electronics in the car would work either. We were just sitting there in silence. All I could think about was how we were going to get out of this terrible place. It was as if our life was flashing before our eyes. Suddenly the radio turns back on. Jingle bells is playing and the music was turned up as loud as it goes. Immediately we all scream. We were all speechless and didn’t know what to do. Jingle Bells only played for a short time and then the radio just went to static. It was as if we would never get out this
The Highway of Tears is a stretch of pavement that runs through central British Columbia. This road has caused many devastating moments in the 19-20th century. There has been many first nation and metis women murdered or gone missing along this highway. this essay will be explaining why this highway is so devastating to first nations and metis.
Randall Blighton saw a silhouette of an infant in the vans window which now he says was a car seat. He felt that he couldn’t just pass by after he had just dropped off his own children with their mother. When he first arrived by the van he set out flares to make sure that everybody knew that the van was there. He then went to open the drivers side door and found that a woman’s purse was jammed between the accelerator and the firewall, that would explain the continually motion forward. He could see that a figure was lying across the front seat and that the head was tucked into the chest just over the passenger seat. He could see that the figure had on one loafer type on one foot that looked feminine. As he searched to turn on the emergency flashers and was unable to find them, not knowing that they were over head. He felt the floor to see if there was a baby. However, as he felt around he realized that the floor and seats of the van and realized why it was so hard to see through the drivers side window that was splattered with something dark, blood. Nevertheless, he felt it was more important to keep searching to find the baby instead of stopping. He shuddered and didn’t get how there could be so much blood in the van if it hadn’t been hit by another vehicle. Randall then hopped in the drivers seat and moved the van on to the shoulder of 79th where it met sunset highway.
There is this small bridge in a small city nearby. There was a car accident and a small child or baby died. And, um, it was in the local papers. It is said that at night, when your drive over it, you can hear the sound of a baby crying. And you know how signs on the side of the road reflect light and stuff? Well, you can’t see it with normal lighting, but when a car’s lights hit the sign at the right angle, you can see a baby’s footprints.
In April I sat down with a friend at my house and asked about any urban legends or ghost stories he had encountered. After a couple legends he had seen in movies, he mentioned a haunted bridge about ten minutes away from downtown. He is a twenty-one year-old White male; his father owns an appliance store and his mother helps out with the books. He first heard this story in the ninth grade from a couple of friends. Supposedly, they had heard from kids who had actually been to the bridge and heard strange things at night. The bridge is located off of Uniontown road, between a couple old farms. He has not encountered the bridge first hand but still remembers the story surrounding it:
Bierce, Ambrose. “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” The Norton Introduction to Literature. 11th ed. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2013. #-#. Print.
As we are on our way towards California our car starts to slow down by itself. We were in the middle of nowhere with no one around, because we are taking a different way. We did not want to wait in traffic. I woke everyone up and told them that our car was out of gas. “How could this happen?” said Catherine, “How have you not noticed?” I did not know how to answer her question. We looked at a map that we had in the car. We started to push it toward the nearest main road. We saw others broken down on the side of the road. They had a flat tire so, we decided to help. In return we were able to get some of their gas that they had. It was already getting dark so we pulled over on the side of the road. We made the tent and fell asleep. Catherine asked, “Will we make it out of this?” I replied, “ We will found out
There is a "Crybaby Bridge" on High Shoals Rd, just south of Anderson, South Carolina. The bridge in South Carolina was built in Virginia in 1919, brought to Charleston, South Carolina to connect two counties together. In 1952 it was brought to Anderson, South Carolina. replaced the older bridge that had been there. It is about 194 feet long and about 17 feet wide. Shortly later locals called it Cry Baby Bridge.The bridge has many changes through the times, from no bridge, to wooden bridge, to the well known Iron Railed Bridge called Cry Baby
As I was driving down the road I saw red, and blue lights going off behind me, so I turn on my turn single and turned to the side of the street and parked my car. I saw the police officer getting out of his car and started to walks towards me, my hands were getting all sweaty and clammy, my stomach was in complete knots and I couldn’t figure out if I was going to vomit, or just pass out. I heard a knock on my window, and I rolled it down.
I frantically stand up before I am completely awake. I listen carefully several moments to make sure that I’m not paranoid and actually heard the faint walking on the roof of the train car. I listen searching for any sound of recognition that the sounds I heard were real, but it is so silent I could hear a pin drop. However, I know that the sounds I heard were real because Queenie is also now awake, her ears perched up, scanning the air for the same sounds that I had heard. Again, nothing.
It was about 1:30am and the only people in the Emergency Waiting Room were my mother and I and a couple that looked like they had been there for a while. I sat there staring at the walls that resembled a jail cell for what felt like hours. And that was the particular moment that I realized the channel had been switched forever. I had gone from a girl who had never lost a loved one to a girl who had almost lost her only sister. All I could think of was all of the “what ifs?” What if I had already gone to bed and no one in my family woke up to the answering machine? What if that man didn’t work a late night and someone else with bad intentions got to her first? What if she had been driving a little faster and got knocked unconscious when that deer jumped in front of her car? What if she never woke
As the car spun, all of my best memories played in my mind: my father teaching me about the solar system, the birth of my siblings, the first time I rode a bicycle, the day my parents decided to be together again, my graduation, the day I was notified I had won the Walton Scholarship, my first day in the United States, among others. Once Kaela, my roommate, and I, were able to leave the fuming car, we crawled to the edge of the road to lie on the ground and assess our injuries. Two ladies that were driving by, came to our rescue and took us to the hospital. During the entire ride to the hospital, as I struggled to remain conscious, I could not help but repeat, “Please Kaela, tell them not to send me back to Honduras, I need to help my family.”
With music blasting, voices singing and talking, it was another typical ride to school with my sister. Because of our belated departure, I went fast, too fast. We started down the first road to our destination. This road is about three miles long and filled with little hills. As we broke the top of one of the small, blind hills in the middle of the right lane was a dead deer. Without any thought, purely by instinct I pulled the wheel of the car to the left and back over to the right. No big deal but I was going fast. The car swerved back to the left, to the right, to the left. Each time I could feel the car scratching the earth with its side. My body jolted with the sporadic movements of the car. The car swerved to the right for the last time. With my eyes sealed tight, I could feel my body float off the seat of the car.
She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn't want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying Carol, let me in. Let me explain.' She shouted out no!' Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn't there. She called out his name. "Thomas!" Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. "Thomas! Thomas....wait!" Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He'll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.
The train was getting closer by the second and billy was turning whiter. I felt very bad. Tim told Billy " its not that big of a deal, you hop on and 15 seconds later jump off and walk back, simple!" Billy did'nt seem any more better about what he was about to do. I could hear the train comeing closer and closer, maybe 2 miles away now. But still i heard it like it was screaming in my ear. Every second that went by it was getting closer. "Here it comes, get ready!" said Tim "Don't be a wuss" said Gregg. It was going faster than normal, way faster. As the first car zoomed by by you could see hundreds more behind that one. Tim yelled out " get Ready, Set, Jump." Billy jumped on a Red car, the car had its door open. He was on for about five seconds when he stuc his head in and just as he did the door Slammed shut. slitting his head off and flung his body off as well. All i saw was blood and his body being flung off. "Awww what a wuss he jumped off early." said Tim. "Come on lets go get him" but i knew thats not what happened.
The reckless driver hit us straight on, then “Bang!” a loud noise resonated through the air, and abruptly my body flew out and hit the pavement of the road. Everything around me was simply a white haze for a few seconds after the impact. My body felt extremely heavy and the sharp pain throbbed throughout my face and body. Lying there on the rough asphalt, I faintly heard my mom and Carrie call out to me, “Sydney! Sydney! Are you okay? Answer me! Sydney!” I wanted I speak up and answer them, nonetheless, it was useless, my voice just wouldn’t make a sound. The desperation in Carrie’s and my mom’s voices reverberated to me across from where I was lying. My mom frantically ran up to my side and hugged me tightly in her arms. Blood was squirting out of her pinky, where the top of her finger had been severed. The places where my mom’s tears fell, stung my wounds, nevertheless, it was nothing compared to each little movements that caused the pains to electrify through my body severely. Every second was hell, the pain was just utterly agonizing and tormenting. Whether it was due to the pain or the exhaustion my body suffered, my mind slowly drifted off and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. As my eyes gradually closed, the blazing siren seemed to have grown louder little by