02/23/2025
I've told this story twice: once in Haunted Ohio II: More Ghostly Tales from the Buckeye State and this version, from Spooky Ohio: 13 Traditional Tales, with illustrations by Jessica Wiesel.
THE BRIDE AT THE BRIDGE
On the morning of August 12, 1837, Esther Hale hummed happily to herself as she put on her white dress and veil. It was her wedding day. The cake was in the kitchen, covered in cheesecloth to keep off the flies. The guests were beginning to arrive. The wedding was set for ten in the morning.
But by half past ten the groom had not arrived and the guests and the parson were beginning to fidget. At half past twelve, they climbed into their wagons and drove away. The messenger Esther sent could find no trace of her bridegroom. His cabin was deserted, said the man, and the ashes in the stove were cold.
When Esther's friends tried to help her to bed, Esther shook her head, the tears running down her face. Finally they left her sitting alone in the dark by the window of the parlor. When they returned the next morning, the curtains had been drawn, as if for a funeral. They were never again opened in Esther Hale's lifetime.
All summer Esther moved like a ghost through the house. In the kitchen, beetles tunneled through the cake. The wedding flowers withered under the spiders' veils in the parlor. Esther's friends coaxed her to eat and drink a little, but when they tried to get her to change her dress or remove the wedding decorations, she flew at them with claw like fingers. Finally they left her alone.
Broken hearts kill slowly. Four months later a neighbor noticed that the door to Esther's house was open, banging back and forth in the December wind. He told the sheriff and the doctor who took a party of men to the dark house. Snow had drifted throughout the rooms like a white shroud.
Esther was slumped over the parlor window sill, her veil over her face. Someone held up a lantern. The doctor drew back the shredded lace. Esther had been dead for several weeks. When they saw the horror beneath, they silently covered her over again. She was buried so, shrouded in her wedding clothes.
But burial did not put an end to Esther Hale. It is said by the locals that you can still see her, dressed in white, looking for her bridegroom on the bridge over Beaver Creek in Columbiana County. She waits there every year on August 12, a hideous figure in tattered white satin and lace. And if she touches you, she will become young and beautiful again but you will die.
So if you are in the area in early August, drive through quickly with your windows rolled up. And keep a sharp lookout for a skeletal woman in a wedding dress stained by the grave. For she will lunge at your car, her bony fingers scrabbling at your windows, desperate as Death to touch and claim your living flesh for her own.