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The Van Sant Covered Bridge |
From Windy Bush Road: Aquetong to Covered Bridge Road From River Road (32): Either Lurgan Road or Aquetong to Covered Bridge Road The first time I saw the Van Sant Bridge was while scouting "location shots" with Rob Child for his documentary AMERICA'S MOST HAUNTED TOWN. Even though I had done a good amount of research for my first novel based in New Hope, I had never heard of the bridge . . . or its reputation of being haunted. There is some speculation as to the haunting. Some feel the entity belongs to a young woman who threw herself and her child into the river near the covered bridge, others lean toward the idea that the haunting spirit is male, possibly a highwayman who was hung at the bridge as a warning to his kind. But regardless of what haunts the covered bridge, it is, without doubt, haunted. Built in 1875 to span Pidcock Creek, the Van Sant is located at the top of Covered Bridge Road, a two-lane roundabout that encompasses a breathtaking array of homes and woods. I have since been back to the bridge many times and think it and the surrounding scenery are at their best when bathed in the subtle gold-orange light of early autumn. Of course, the first time I saw the bridge was on a cold spring morning, with a swirling gray mist that clung to the trees. It was, in fact, that morning after my night at The Pineapple Hill Inn. Let's just say the timing couldn't have been better. Because of the chill, Rob had the car's heater going, which read a steady (and lovely) 72-degrees on the control panel's LCD indicator. Until we came over the small rise above Pidcock Creek and saw the bridge. Suddenly, although the display still read 72-degrees, the temperature inside the car dropped dramatically. Both of us were wearing winter coats, but even they didn't make much of a difference to the penetrating chill that deepened the closer we got to the bridge. Although there is more than enough room to pull over and park on the wide shoulder just to the left of the approach, Rob and I opted to drive straight through and it was like driving through a glacier. There was something else, beneath the cold, however, that caught my attention: An unrelenting sorrow that brought tears to my eyes. Whatever happened at that bridge is, in effect, still happening. The anguish I felt is as real this moment in time as it was when the incident occurred. I'm not sure if Rob felt anything beyond the cold, but the moment we passed through the bridge the temperature inside the car began to climb . . . for about a hundred yards and then, once again, it dropped. This, I felt, was a different entity - one that was linked not only to the bridge, but the meadow bounded by Aquetong and Lurgan Roads - and I "saw" the image of a horseman (perhaps the hanged Highway Man) riding not beside, but with us. And me without a ghostly apple to offer his poor horse. The coldness lasted perhaps a quarter mile and then, once again, the temperature returned to a balmy 72. As I mentioned above, I have gone back to the Van Sant a number of times . . . and am planning another visit soon - this time at night with digital camera and tape recorder. It should be interesting, don't you think? For more information on the haunting of the Van Sant Covered Bridge: The International Ghost Hunters Society http://www.ghostweb.com/cguen1.html and http://www.phillyburbs.com/halloween2000/Ghosts/article4.shtml |
