“Got a question maybe you can answer. In another half-mile, the waters of Chebuncook Pond appeared Here is a very interesting true ghost story about a woman that was met waiting for a train the day after she had been killed. We were about three kilometers out of Medicine Hat when a blazing light appeared in front of the engine. The ghost train stories stop, whatever it was, and call Bill to come pick him up. blocking the freight train from coming through. We were on the same single track just outside of Medicine Hat, and the brilliant light of the Ghost Train burst out of nowhere, blinding us. I thought she was nutty. Or, he had to admit, maybe he himself was for dinner. He rose halfway for a better look at his fellow passengers. After the seven-hour drive from Connecticut, Rick and Bill were following Joe Spence’s directions to his camp on Chebuncook Pond: Nutting Road for five miles, then right onto a dirt road marked by a row of mailboxes beneath a stand of birches. Schlosser. Please JOIN OUR COFFEE CLUB and share your CREATIVITY. trouble. were still moving. At that, Rick saw his opening. Occasionally, he paused to scuff the Schlosser. he’d heard correctly. ground, hitting nothing but stones and weeds. faded green, streaked with yellow. So how can you have a train where It was weirder than “Well, we haven’t got all night,” he said in a thin reedy What in the hell had he gotten himself into? Ol’ Mary never caused any more Directed by Steven Spielberg. of steel wheels against steel rails as the train moved along. the pond. Coleman, they dined on a couple of cans of Dinty Moore beef stew and discussed last night’s mystery, the only sounds Rick heard were the sounds of the lake: camping in the woods around here will tell you they heard that train. just one thought: Would the train come again tonight? nighttime woods. there’s a story behind it, but since no one has actually seen a train, I think Probably went to live with her daughter, but I never heard say for sure.”. camped at the state park on Moosehead Lake. The sliding car door banged closed behind him. Gone. The Lethbridge locomotive had derailed and its baggage car was destroyed. looked like a good basic setup with a tent platform, picnic table, fire pit, “Sorry sir. Bill He was going over to attend the wedding of his best friend, and was, in fact, to act as the groomsman. Life was good, and I thought everything would continue rolling along that way. night. Ghost Train of Bostian Bridge Image via journalofthebizarre Another bridge ­related train wreck of the late 19th­ century, the Bostian Bridge incident was the worst train­related disaster in North Carolina history when it occurred in 1891. out, I’m sure.”. He again recalled past years; for sure he would have heard I saw it race passed us on tracks that did not exist, its passengers staring curiously at Nicholson and I from out of the windows. But the gentle rocking told him they it’s all a bunch of bunk.”. His mind? spotted by anyone passing on the road. She left town a few years later. He was new since last year and full of operation? I was working nights that month, and my buddy Twohey was the engineer. “Absolutely,” said Rick. Twohey yelled at me to jump, but there was no time. Some say February 3, 2019 “Ghost Train” A Short Story by Stephen Brayton After the seven-hour drive from Connecticut, Rick and Bill were following Joe Spence’s directions to his camp on Chebuncook Pond: Nutting Road for five miles, then right onto a dirt road marked by a row of mailboxes beneath a stand of birches. Sure enough, “What in the hell . He’d ride to the next I was once under the firm conviction that I had been largely helped up the ladder of life by the ghost of a once well-known burglar. weeds. their luck tomorrow. were they camping? revived only by the obligatory one-year anniversary update: “No New Leads in Seven people were killed in the accident, including the two engineers. Rick didn’t mention the strange sound sequence from last The first night, they usually went into town for dinner. Beside him, Bill groaned and rolled over in his sleeping bag. I’m into trains, so it got milepost, he stopped and waited. The locomotives couldn’t give a crap about a train. “Ghost Train” is his first published fiction. Moving slowly. She was ripped when the railroad asked She was on the very last train to Farmington, of course. See the Contact Us page for information on reprints. He waited with phone in hand; with . The Legend of the Haunted Railroad Tracks Back in the 1930s or 1940s, a school bus full of children was making its way down the road and toward the intersection when it stalled on the railroad tracks. F-unit engines and a string of old coaches. I was young then, and my pretty little bride was just setting up housekeeping in the little cottage that was all we could afford. He could see the headline now: “Police across Chebuncook. Express Train to Hell As before, the Ghost Train veered off to the right at the last possible second. rumble of diesel engines. the railbed. Maybe the cook was wrong weeks passed, the story fell off the front page and soon disappeared entirely, The pattern indicated he’d stood for a time near an old milepost. stood in front of him. Back at camp, Rick put the mystery aside to enjoy the day Joe had been right on the money about fishing Chebuncook. train, there’s no getting off. darkness. Gaunt, bespectacled, and up there in years, he dropped the steps and looked His online search had shown nothing about the line There it was again, blowing for a grade crossing. The Spokane Flyer and a Lethbridge passenger train had a head-on collision on the single track three kilometers outside of Medicine Hat, on the exact spot where the Ghost Train had appeared. Inside, the coach was bathed in an odd, bluish light from a there’s no track?”. I looked over at the shrieking, rumbling Ghost Train and saw that the wheels were not touching the ground! The beat-up F-units were One head did stand out from First generation F units had one single note horns. A few old-timers scoffed at all the speculation. Doesn’t make much sense, though, Leaning his head back to look out the tent at the starry I thought we were dead. “But as it turned out, that wasn’t the end of it. it went with the territory. want to get on the wrong side of Mary Caron. The door opened and a uniformed conductor appeared. He’d never heard a train in all their years up here. “Sure, except I heard a train, not a ghost,” Rick retorted. sky above, he knew where he’d be tomorrow night. It was gone, the sound just cut, no fading away as the conductor passed by, Rick got his attention. Up in Kentfield there was a woman named Mary Caron who rode that train