ROAD RAGE
Western PA has quite a few ghost stories and legends surrounding it; the steel city saw more
than its share of mysterious goings-on over the years.
I married recently and moved to the Pittsburgh
area to be closer to work. I hate driving and
traffic and the like, so it was welcome change
to live closer. I'm a self-professed aggressive
driver. At least, I used to be.
The road on which I travel to go to work would
immediately bring to mind haunting imagery; a
dark, twisting road in the thick of a well-forested area. So it came as no surprise to me
when I learned from one of the locals of a legend circulating about that road.
It came to be that I was heading into work early (as I often do, as Pittsburgh traffic is crazy).
It was dark out yet; cloudy, no moon, and extremely quiet. I'd had a strange feeling since
I'd woken up that morning...like the feeling you get right after you've seen a great horror movie;
you know it's fiction...but you still avoid mirrors for awhile just in case there really IS
something there.
I headed out and arrived at the road in short
order. This road is a two-lane one way road, so
there is no oncoming traffic for the stretch of
it. Since it was early, I decided to keep
towards the center of the road. Deer abound in
this part of town, and I had no desire to hit one.
It was really dark and some fog had gathered. I
put on my high beams so I could see a little
better. I heard a car somewhere behind me, but
couldn't follow it because of the bends and the
trees.
The wind was blowing and the fog seemed to be
getting thicker. Ahead of me, I noticed some
taillights. I shut off my high beams and slowed
down, so as not to startle the car in front of me.
Suddenly there was a squeal and tires peeling,
from somewhere behind me. I looked in my mirror
and saw a car flying like a bat out of hell. It
was in the left lane (I was in the right) and it
flew past me. I blew my horn to warn the car in
front of me, but it was too late. Tires screeched as the speeding car smashed into the
car in front of me.
It was a horrifying sound. The car in front of
me rammed into a tree, and the speeding car spun
around it and crashed into another tree somewhere
ahead.
The road was too narrow to stop on. I drove past
a little ways, to a point where I could stop, and
rushed back. As I ran towards the crash, I heard
the sickening sound of a horn, blowing
constantly. I grew worried and doubled my pace.
By the time I arrived, the horn had stopped. I
headed to where the cars went off the road...but
nothing was there. Not a trace of them. At
first I thought they'd driven off; that the crash
wasn't bad. But I hadn't seen them drive by.
I looked to the road where they first went off.
There were skid marks, but they were faint; as if
they were years old. What's more, the guardrail
that they'd crashed through was intact; it looked
almost brand new.
I was terrified beyond the capacity for words,
and I felt like the forest was going to suffocate
me. I turned around to head back to my car and
nearly tripped over something. I saw what it
was; a small plaque affixed to a stone, facing
the road. I'd never noticed it before. The
inscription read:
I ran back to my car and never looked back.
It was only a few months later that I recounted
my tail to a friend in a neighbouring condo. Our
buildings all have private, outdoor entrances,
and we ran into each other coming home from
work. I asked him if he knew anything about an
accident about 2 years ago on that road. He
invited me in for a drink and I relayed my
experience.
He listened intently. I thought he would think I
was nuts, but when I finished, he spoke softly
and understandingly. He told me that a mother
was taking her little girl to school on that road
on the morning of July 6, 1998 when an angry
driver, who had taken the road as an alternative
to the morning traffic rush, sped by and hit
their car. The mother and her little girl died
instantly. The driver was hospitalized for a few
weeks and released. He admitted that he suffered
from Road Rage, and could not take the main
street traffic; that's why he went the back way.
On the one-year anniversary of the accident, his
car and body were found, at the spot where the
ladies' car had been.
A new guardrail was constructed in honour of the
three lives lost.
I could hardly believe this
story, as it seems to have fit what happened to
me perfectly. I asked him why I had never seen
these things before. He told me that, as the
legend has it, the tragedy is only revealed to
those in danger of repeating it. Needless to
say, I have never once since that day driven
aggressively or angrily. It's just not worth it.
Sometimes late at night or early in the morning
when I get up I can still hear the screeching
tires on the nearby road. I can still hear the
explosion, the horn. I often wonder how many
others in our community can hear it too...
Submitted from: PA, USA
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"In loving memory of the three lives lost the
morning of July 6, 1998. May it serve as a
warning to those suffering from Road Rage."
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