Every place needs a good ghost story right? Our next location is the site of one. Near Enterprise there is an abandoned bridge known as Stuckeys Bridge. The story goes that a member of the Dalton Gang named Stuckey opened an inn on the banks of the Chunky River. At night he would murder and rob his guests. He would then bury their bodies on the banks of the river. After murdering twenty or so guests, Stuckey was caught and a posse hung him from the bridge. People to this day say that they hear loud splashes in the river below when there shouldn’t be any and see his corpse hanging from the bridge. There have also been other tales of ghostly happenings on the bridge. What I do know is that the current bridge was built in 1901 to replace an old one, there are lots of stories about this bridge and it is in the middle of nowhere. There are signs to get there, but you have to go down a dirt road to do it.
The bridge itself is closed and they have erected a barrier so that people do not drive across it. I have found that it was closed in 2011. I have also found that author Lori Crane has written three books about Stuckey’s Bridge. These I will have to check out.
The bridge emerges as you round the bend, rising over the river like a memory of the past surfacing to the forefront of your mind. It stands tall and majestic as it spans the Chunky River. It is a testament to how well people used to build things because it has stood since 1901, and stands there still today. It is not safe for cars to use, but foot traffic is okay.
We walked up to the bridge and began to cross. Wooden boards were nailed on top of boards where there had obviously holes. There was a track of boards that looked like it was used by the cars that used to drive over it. The whole area felt peaceful and the only sounds were the laughter of the boys, our voices, birds and the river. Soothing. Quiet. Time with just the boys and I. A good day for sure.
The barriers that had been erected to stop the flow of auto traffic, of course, were something to be climbed up on and jumped off of. If I were only that young again!!
The boys and I didn’t encounter the ghost of Stuckey, but we did feel the ghosts of a time that is long gone. Like the years that have passed in my boys’ lives, those days are just golden memories that can be taken out and remembered only to be put lovingly back to where they rest. The bridge sort of represents that for me. A testament to a time gone by, a memory revisited, a Sunday Adventure with my guys that will be taken out and looked at later when they are busy making memories with families of their own.