Stuckey's Bridge--overlooking the Chunky River on Stuckey's Bridge Road in Chunky--got it's name from the fellow who operated an inn on the banks of the Chunky River during the Civil War era. After the War was over, Stuckey's profits--for the obvious reasons--plummeted, and the proprietor resorted to murdering his few guests for their coin and dumping the bodies at night 'neath the nearby bridge. The townfolk eventually caught wind of Stuckey's misdeeds, and they took to torch and pitchfork and snatched the man from his house, took him to the bridge, and hanged him by the neck until dead. Since, rumors have abounded with sightings of ghostly manifestations of lights, nooses, and free-floating bodies on or near that bridge (which, by the way, is on the National Register of Historic Places).
When I first told Nicholas this story, he grew excited and eager, but when we arrived, parked, and walked toward the bridge, Nicholas stayed behind in the Jeep, reluctant and uneasy. As we approached the first plank, I looked back and asked Nicholas if he realized he was by himself. He looked around, and then ran our way. On the bridge stood a comfortably-dressed couple, the Daphigments, who told us that they rented canoes for use on the Chunky River, and that they lived in a nearby cabin, and that--especially in October--they were deputized to patrol the bridge and ward off youngsters who tended to vandalize on weekends or on week nights. They talked for a bit more, told us more about their personal lives, and they let us take their picture (below, they're in-between Nicholas and me--wait...there's no one between Nicholas and me in that picture? What gives?)
They even allowed us to drive over the bridge! A sign was posted a half-mile back on Stuckey's Bridge Road stating the bridge was closed for thru-traffic, but the Daphigments told us they posted that sign to keep out the nearby college kids, that the bridge was safe. Foot Foot looked a little wary, but the kids wanted to ride over, so we compromised. Foot Foot and Nicholas crossed over to the other side of the bridge, while Georgia and I returned to the Jeep. I strapped Georgia in her car-seat, and I glanced across the bridge to see that Foot Foot, Nicholas, and the Daphigments were safely on the other side; Foot Foot and Nicholas were, but the Daphigments weren't there. Oh, well. Maybe they went back home.
I hopped in the Jeep and started driving across. Foot Foot took the picture above, and then she and Nicholas walked down to a lower embankment to get a picture of the bridge from a different point of view. After crossing the bridge--whose iron girders cried and whined from about the half-way point on, scaring the fool out of me--I parked it on the other side, got Georgia out, and saw Foot Foot and Nicholas walking up from the embankment. Foot Foot asked me to walk down there, look at the bridge, and see if I notice anything unusual. I followed orders, and I returned, noting that I had not seen anything out of the ordinary. Why? Had she? She had not, but Nicholas had. I asked my son what he'd thought he'd seen, and after hitting me for doubting him, he told me he'd seen a noose hanging from the bridge. I asked him if he was trying to scare us, but he reassured me (by hitting me again) that he wasn't. I walked down the embankment again, but I saw no rope anywhere on the bridge. I asked Foot Foot to show me the picture she took, and we looked at it, and good googly-moogly--Nicholas was right!
Foot Foot looked at me and told me it was time to go; I agreed. I told her and Nicholas to quickly get in the Jeep, but she refused, and she took Georgia from my hand and picked her up, and she told Nicholas to hurry and run with them across the bridge. I asked her to wait, to get in the Jeep, but she'd have none of it; they were already scooting back across the bridge. I hopped in the Jeep, backed it up, and crossed the bridge, but I was unable to make it completely to the other side, for Foot Foot was standing at the foot, in the center, taking my picture, not letting me cross. I felt like Washington Irving's schoolteacher, coming so close to crossing the bridge, with certain doom behind me. I honked and yelled, yet she kept taking my picture. Feeling the urgent need to cross the threshhold, I put the Jeep in neurtal and revved it hard, and that sent Penny running backwards. Thank goodness. I jerked the Jeep back to drive and finally made it back to solid earf.
Foot Foot and the children got in, and we hightailed it out of there. I asked my wife why she wouldn't let me cross, why she took so many pictures right then, and she told me that when the Jeep started crossing the bridge, she heard the iron singing, and she was sure the bridge would collapse. So why didn't she hurry and get out of the way so I could cross? She said that she was so sure I wouldn't, that she wanted to have some pictures of me to show to the children in case they ever forgot what I looked like. Why so many pictures, though, of the same shot? She said she didn't like the lighting in the first one, the focus in the second one, my hair was too disheveled in the third, etc....Willfully ignoring my wife's stated preference of the art of photography over the life of her husband, I asked her whatever happened to the Daphigments. She said that she was going to ask me the same thing, that the last she saw of them was when Georgia and I left to go get in the Jeep to drive it across the bridge, that the older couple walked with us. I told her that I saw them walking with her and Nicholas. We shared a suspicious look, and she checked the picture she took of the Daphigments with the kids and me, and--you saw it above--the Daphigments were gone!Later tonight, the actual finarle of our trip!
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