(Orig. Published 4/2004)
Wisner Road in Kirtland cuts through the heart of Melon Head country. Drive beyond this bridge on the dirt road, and you will soon find yourself at a dead end. Look closely, and you will see a foot trail that continues beyond the dead end….and into the deep, dark woods. In those woods along that trail, people say, lies the ruins of the original Melon Heads homestead.
But if a late night hike is not your cup of tea, stick to the bridge. Legend says that if you park your car on this bridge at night and turn off the engine, you will soon hear the screams of small children.
Are they the voices of children who drowned in the waters rushing below the bridge? Or are they the screams of the poor Melon Head children, who were burned alive in an orphanage fire near this bridge?
We did not witness such sounds during our visit to this bridge. Of course, we were not here at night. However, we suspect the timing of one’s trip to the bridge has nothing to do with sounds you may hear. This area is heavily populated with wildlife, and the sound of the water–distorted by the acoustics of this deep ravine–can sound, well, unnatural.
Note: There are private residences along this road–and are most definitely NOT the former home(s) of the Melon Heads. There is also a horse stable here, and horseback riders peacefully enjoy this road. The horses are quite skittish of cars. Therefore, we strongly discourage joy rides along this road. If you must travel here, drive carefully, exercise caution & restraint, and respect the people who live here. Also, several “No Trespassing” signs are posted around this bridge.
A friend and I had found out about this bridge and went to check it out. Here is how the bridge works: You need to park your car half on and half off. Tonight, at midnight, we did this.
First, we heard the sounds of the water rushing and the crickets. Suddenly, it faded out. Then, we started to hear this *whooshing* sound. At first, it started really low, but quickly got louder. It sounded like someone breathing deeply. While this sound was going on, we could hear a very faint cry… an unmistakable cry, I might add. Then, I felt the around around us getting colder. At this point, we left. It was just too creepy. All the hairs on my body stood on end.
I might add that during this trip to the bridge, neither of us were under the influence of anything. No beer. No pot.
Before tonight, I have gone to the bridge twice, but experienced nothing. This was mainly because we were all the way on the bridge. This time, though, we got quite a difference experience. My friend thinks that maybe that is where a body is buried, and that this person died while being half on and half off the bridge, crushed under the weight of a car.