Halloween is upon us, and there’s no better time to visit a spooky (and real) local tale! Disclaimer: this story is not for the faint of heart or young children.
After leaving the pie supper at Woodcliff Baptist Church on a Saturday night in the Spring of 1931, Narmon walked (some say stumbled, but we won’t speculate here) toward his home in the valley below.
During this trek, he stopped at the watchtower stationed above a small bridge,
underneath which the railroad quietly snaked before the tracks disappeared into the hills beyond.
While there, the watchman insisted that Narmon spend the night instead of walkingn the treacherous railroad bed which offered a shortcut to his family home.
Being engaged to wed just one week on, Narmon declined the offer and instead continued his travels, ensuring he made it to breakfast the next morning as this would be one of the last “home-cooked meals from mother” in his foreseeable future.
The breakfast table was indeed set the following morning, but Narmon’s chair lay
As you might have guessed, from here, our tale leaves the happy world of “mama’s
meals” and pie suppers.
You see, though the sun came up as usual the next morning, darkness fell over the
In the early hours of that Sunday, the same watchman from the night before began his daily check of the tracks.
After a short walk, he was surprised to find a hat.
Then a watch.
While we won’t share all the details here, rest assured, you would find sleep difficult tonight were we to divulge the true and full nature of the horrifying scene.
Understandably terrified and distraught, the watchman burst into the same church, which just hours before hosted a merry pie supper, to interrupt the service with news of the tragedy.
Narmon’s betrothed happened to be in attendance.
Upon hearing Narmon’s fate, she stood and fainted, reminiscent of a sweltered
southern belle from early Hollywood.
However, her dismay seems to have been short-lived, as she wed another just weeks later.
This quick marriage caused rumors to swirl.
Legends were born.
And, over time “Crazy George’s Bridge” came to life.
To this day, it’s said that on certain nights, a headless traveler is seen carrying a lamp along the tracks which run beneath the bridge.
Whether this is the scorned, murdered, and angry ghost of Narmon, a work of fiction, or another nameless ghoul hunting the hills, we caution you, don’t stay long on Crazy George’s Bridge.