A Story for the Campfire by Chris Bartholomew
Back in 1964, George Font thought a neighborhood get-together would be fun. Everyone who could get away for a week-end thought it was a great idea so the neighborhood camp-out was invented.
Gathered around the campfire, the adults were taking turns telling ghost stories.
George's wife, Katrina was born in San Francisco in 1937; right after the Golden Gate Bridge was opened. George had begged her to tell the children the story of the bridge troll, but she thought it too scary, being a true story, for children of such young age.
George sat listening to the lame ghost stories and was delighted when his wife began to tell a story, actually, everyone was mesmerized by the tale.
"When I was born in San Francisco, California, there was a huge and beautiful bridge. My mother and father would walk me across the Golden Gate Bridge in the summer months, they told me I was at my happiest as a baby on that bridge."
Katrina closed her eyes and opened them wide and quick. Crossing her chest with her arms, she continued to tell the story in a hushed, almost inaudible voice…
"When I was sixteen, and this was long after my parents would stroll across the bridge with me, I began to run for exercise. One day, I decided to run across the bridge. Running at full speed almost half-way across, I saw a haze. Oh, yes, there is always fog in San Francisco, but this haze came up from one side of the bridge and it was spooky."
She paused for effect, and looked around at all the young faces which were wide-eyed and ready for more, she continued, just as a wolf howled a blood-curdling howl close by…
"I stopped running. There were always a lot of people walking across the bridge and the fog had become so thick that I thought I might go barreling into someone, so I slowly, cautiously, begin to walk into it."
Katrina stopped talking, looked around with wide eyes, and covered her face, "I hope this won't scare you all too much, it's scary to think about…
I walked halfway through the fog and this big booming voice said, "Play a game with me." Well, I tell you, I about dropped dead right there on the bridge. I began to run. It took forever to get out of that fog, and when I finally was out, the fog went away and I saw that I had only run about twenty yards. That would only take a few seconds, so I don't know how it seemed to take so long."
Katrina looked at George, who was totally into the story though he'd heard it a thousand times before. He had always wanted to visit San Francisco, to walk across that bridge, but it was clear across the country. He nodded for her to continue…
"I ran over to the other side, and then called for a cab to take me home. I just couldn't walk back. I was so terrified at that loud voice and that heavy fog. I was spooked, but later I realized how silly that was. It had to be my overactive imagination; after all, no one came out of that fog but me!"
There was a thud in the woods close-by, and the children jumped at the sound. That thump was followed by a horrible animal screech and Katrina almost stopped the story, but all of the children were so adorably scared that she decided to continue…
Looking at her daughter Sarah she said, "Right after I graduated from college and before I moved and met your father, I decided to walk across the bridge one last time. I had heard several people in my life say that once you leave you don't come back. I thought just in case that was true, I'd face whatever I'd heard that day on the bridge."
Katrina sat silent for such a long time debating on how much to tell these children that when she began to speak again, they all jumped at the sound of her voice…
Almost whispering, "There have been many who have jumped to their deaths on that bridge, and more than any other place on the bridge, most have jumped right there where that fog was that day. Standing at that place, where all of those lives were sadly ended gave the bridge an eerie feeling. While I was standing there thinking about how awful they must have felt, the fog started coming from underneath the bridge, just where I was standing."
Katrina stopped talking, and acted as if she needed to catch her breath. One of the children gave her a cup of soda and she took a drink, and then continued…
"A big, no, not just big, a booming and horrible voice said, "You have come back to play! Come here!"
Eyes wide, whispering, "Then I saw a platform, and a hulk-like creature standing on it. He was standing there with a horrible scowl like this, (she made a face like she smelled a skunk) and he said, 'Walk over here and we can play forever!' And I was frozen there in place."
Katrina hesitated for what seemed like forever. George cleared his throat so that she'd look at him and when she did, he motioned for her to get on with the tale…
"I could see that if I walked to the creature, I'd actually fall over the bridge. I tore myself away, and ran home. I hear children still giggle when they pass there. Some say that's where the jumpers have gone, to play with the Troll…and sometimes in my dreams I go back."
After the story they retired for the night, but none of them slept.