Old Colemine Road bridge still creating legends

An old bridge crosses West Yellow Creek just off Jarboe Road in rural Linn County, Mo. The gravel road between Brookfield and Marceline used to cross the bridge, built in 1920, until a new bridge went up in 1996 for the estimated 35 vehicles that cross that way each day.

But people in the area still talk about the old bridge – and its ghosts.

Paranormal investigator Ryan Straub of Centralia, Mo., grew up in Marceline and knows the stories well.

“It used to be known as Colemine Road,” Straub said. “It’s like a local legend.”

According to the legend, a little boy whose family lived on Colemine Road was struck and killed by a truck as he rode his tricycle on the gravel road. On nights of a full moon, people may catch a glimpse of the boy.

Another story has a man being killed on the bridge by robbers.

“There was a man when it was Colemine Road walking home from a party,” Straub said. “He was drinking and was picked up, mugged and had the crap beat out of him and left to die by an old bridge. He haunts that bridge down there, and he can be pretty vengeful.”

Locals say visitors to the old bridge often report feeling like someone is watching them. Straub first investigated the legends of Jarboe Road at about 1 or 2 a.m. June 13, 2003 – a Friday the 13th – during a full moon.

“Those are the stories I went down there to investigate,” Straub said. “When I went there, I didn’t see either one.”

But something was there. When Straub stepped from his vehicle, the area felt strange.

“It was extremely quiet,” Straub said. “What’s weird about that is it was summer; locusts and all sorts of noises you can hear. It was almost too quiet. That uneasy calm feeling.”

As Straub approached the bridge, he found he wasn’t alone.

“Where that bridge is, there’s not a whole lot around it,” he said. “I was by myself. I kept hearing something telling me to come down under the bridge.”

The voice was male and insistent.

“It sounded like a younger man. I was 19. It sounded like he was 25 to 30 maybe,” he said. “The average man’s voice sounding like he wanted me to come down there.”

Who the hell’s out here with me? ran through Straub’s head, as he felt the hair stand on the back of his neck.

“My shock got turned into curiosity,” he said. “Which will (one day) most probably get me in trouble.”

Straub flicked on his flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness, and crawled down the embankment toward the underside of the bridge.

“I’m either stupid or crazy or a little bit of both,” he said. “There was nothing down there. There was no one down there. There was no one in the woods. Something was calling for me, but nothing was down there.”

After searching under the bridge and the nearby trees, Straub went back to his car, but the road wasn’t finished with him.

“As I was leaving, I was about halfway down the road and it looked like a dog was running toward the car,” he said. “It was a huge black dog. It jumped in front of the car and I hit it, but my car went right through it. That thing got me.”

The voice calling him in the night, and the spectral dog piqued Straub’s curiosity. He’s sure the legends of the road being haunted are true, and that’s drawn him back – many times.

“I went down there about 10 nights in 10 years but that’s the only thing I ever had happen,” he said. “I talked to everyone in the area and they all told me the same story. There’s either something that happened, or it’s legend.”