The Shrieking Thanksgiving Ghost
The Shrieking Thanksgiving Ghost
This one brings us to Geneva, New York. That’s the state with
that really big city that smells like the Dutch.
Every other holiday has a ghost and Thanksgiving isn’t any
different, it’s just a little surprising. I mean, nothing bad ever came out of
that day for any person or group of people, right? Hold on, my producer is
talking in my ear… Oh? OH! oh.
Well, that was disappointing to learn. Anyway, let’s get
into the ghost story!
The When and Where
 |
| Told you so. |
This ghost story takes place back 1902, a few years before
the world was going to start having fun with the Great Worcester Airship Hoax. It
was the night of Thanksgiving Day and a train was approaching Marsh Bridge in Geneva,
New York.
It's bad enough when you have to work on Thanksgiving, but
things were about to get weird for the engineer and fireman driving this thing.
They were both in the train’s… cockpit? Engine car? Driver’s seat? I don’t
know, I’m not a train guy.
By the way, the fireman wasn’t the fire extinguishing kind.
This was back in olde timey days when you needed someone shoveling coal into a
furnace so you could get to dinner before you died of old age by walking.
The Haunted Bridge
 |
| "Wait, do we have holiday pay in 1902?" |
So, the train was approaching the bridge when both men heard
a piercing, blood curdling scream ahead. They both looked up and saw the exact
same thing. A pure white figure stood just to the side of Marsh Bridge and frantically
waved its arms in the air.
The engineer, most likely muttering about already working a holiday and now having to deal with this, immediately stopped the train. As
soon as he did, the figure screamed again and faded in front of their eyes.
Now, despite you shouting “Don’t go out there!” at your
phone, that’s exactly what the two men did. They disembarked the train and
searched the tracks for signs of anything that could explain what in the hell
just happened.
As they neared the bridge, it happened again. An ear-piercing
shriek, this time disembodied, broke through the air and that was enough.
The engineer and fireman ran back to the train, throttled
that thing up, and crossed the bridge. They didn’t stop until they finally
pulled into the destination station and put it all behind them.
Once they were… docked? Parked? Chillin’? Like I said, I’m not a train guy, they told the station workers what they saw and heard. Rather
than being met with gasps and gaping jaws, they just got a big, ole “Ah, yup.”
It turned out they weren’t the first to see or hear this Thanksgiving haunting.
The other workers then told them the story of the Marsh Bridge ghost.
Shrieking Thanksgiving Ghost: Origins
 |
| Oh, it's called an engine! |
It turned out that, in the even olde timier year of 1873, a
different train with a different set of engineer and fireman headed to that
very same bridge. Things wouldn’t turn out as well for them, though.
They reached Marsh Bridge and headed right over it, completely
unaware of the fact that flood waters had washed out the supports that kept it standing.
The bridge collapsed underneath them, and the first three cars of the train fell
right into the raging waters below, taking the engineer and fireman with them.
Luckily, it stopped at the baggage car, so none of the passengers suffered the
same fate. Not that this would matter to the two men who would never be seen
alive again.
The flood waters continued to rage, making it impossible to
mount any rescue efforts and it wouldn’t be until the next day that any help
could set off to find them. Needless to say, no living men would be pulled out
of the waters.
The engineer, a man by the name of Ignatius Buelte was
quickly found, still in the wreck of the train. The discovery of the fireman, Augustus
Sipple, wouldn’t be found for yet another day. The waters were so powerful that
night, they pulled him downstream and left him stuck in deadly quicksand that
claimed his life. It was a sad and cruel ending for men just doing their jobs.
The Fallout
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| "I don't know. Just, like, do it ourselves?" |
It goes without saying that lawsuits flew after the
accident. People from all around the area accused the people responsible for
the bridge of letting it fall into disrepair long before the flood. That made
it much easier for the waters to claim it and the lives of the men running the
train.
What stands out, though, is the fate of Ignatius Buelte’s
body. He was taken to a cemetery in a carriage but wasn’t allowed access. There
was a rule in place that limited the number of carriages allowed in the cemetery
at the same time and it was a busy day. The sexton just couldn’t even with him
and refused to help. That was when the mourners took matters into their own
hands.
They lowered him into his final resting place on their own,
with no religious service to help him on his way to eternal rest. It’s said
this was the deciding factor in this tragedy and why he still haunts the bridge
to this day as the Thanksgiving ghost standing and shrieking next to the Marsh
Bridge.
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