As our tale has been told by many an uninvited guest who has harkened a drive after dark out to old Rocky Ford Bridge…testaments of sightings. Of unexplained encounters. Of a visitor.
This bridge is now home to a hauntingly tortured apparition.
This phantom, this shade, this ghost…a woman wearing white. One restless spirit, slowly approaching our paranormal investigator atop the skeletal rails of a haunted 19th Century Kansas aqueduct.
Brave souls have told of this ghost. Of this melancholy, ghastly spirit.
Our Rocky Ford Bridge apparition, aimlessly wandering along muddy riverbanks of the Cottonwood River which meanders – with no hurry at all – below the plank-laid wood which invites you to cross (if you dare) our fateful, haunted overpass.
On Rocky Ford Bridge, look to your wrist as each watch hand of your timepiece touches 12…just as your car reaches midpoint, on this eery iron passage.
Your car will stall. Your car doors will lock, then unlock, on their own.
