The Bridge

Mardi Gras has just wrapped up and things are getting back to normal, French Quarter normal. In the madness leading up to the holiday I had a few visitors share stories, but I must confess it has been a crazy few weeks, so bear with me. This is how I remember the stories, if there are any discrepancies please pardon my memory.

A week or so before Mardi Gras I had a man on my tour who was visiting with friends. He seemed a relatively quiet working man. A few years back he was working in Northern California. One evening, around dusk, he and two other men were riding from Oakland to San Francisco and they were driving over a bridge. Well, he looked across the water and noticed another bridge being built. Only the bridge was kind of grey and very thin, only maybe fours inches thick, nothing like the average thickness of a bridge. He was amazed and turned to his friend, "Hey, check out that bridge. Can you believe they can build something that thin? Wow." He friend agreed it was amazing. They asked their friend in the backseat what he thought and he glanced up briefly and mumbled in agreement.

They went to San Fransico and finished up their job. A few days later they drove back to Oakland. They crossed the same bridge and looked over to see how construction on that mysterious thin bridge was going. There was nothing there.

Sleeping on the couch

A few weeks back I had a couple who lived outside Tyler, Texas on my tour. They told me that they used to live in town in a very haunted house. They didn't tell me much about the history other than the owner was very attached to the house and the garden, an amazing garden by all accounts.

The woman said she would always find the greenhouse door open, after she'd locked it up. Once she had seen a man floating outside her window. But they managed to live in the place for a while, dismissing the activity, until their daughter asked to leave.

One night she was asleep in her bed when someone picked her up, carried her out of the room and put her on the couch. In the morning she asked her mother why she'd moved her in the middle of the night and her mother hadn't done any such thing. The little girl told her that she didn't want to live there anymore because there were too many ghosts in the house.

Peek-a-Boo

I had a couple from Louisville, Kentucky on my tour a few nights ago. They had one son and a few daughters, and their son was partial to spending the night with friends. One night the young man was at a friend's and the father was playing peek-a-boo with the girls. He sat in the bed, resting on the pillows, and they hid at the foot of the bed. Every so often they would peek out and say "boo." Well this went on for a while and the father was playing along, everyone was getting excited then a little boy peeked out from the foot of the bed and said "boo." It happened so fast and unexpected that the father didn't notice. He told his wife that he thought their son was staying with friends. Yes, she said, rolling over for a moment. He jumped to look over the foot of the bed and there wasn't anyone there.

They've seen this little boy at least three times in different parts of the house. The wife calls him "Bobby" simply because that seemed right to her. But her husband calls him "Cody" because when they moved into the house that name was written on one of the doors.