I was an unbeliever. But, I set aside my disbelief, picked up my camera and hit the road in the spirit of Halloween. The plan was to head south to experience first-hand the old legend of the haunted San Antonio railroad tracks.
Naturally, I didn't take it too seriously, but come on, this was a bit of childish fun, something to put us in a seasonally ghoulish mood. Finding the location was not difficult, just a short drive south of Loop 410 on Shane Rd.

We past a couple of subdivisions, down a lonely paved road, and there it was - the crossing. We paused to sprinkle baby powder on the rear window, then put our car in neutral and hovered over the tracks.

The legend says that some time back a school bus filled with little children was stalled on those tracks when an approaching train hit it, killing all the children trapped inside. Now, if you stop on those tracks the ghosts of those dead children will put forth a helping hand to push you across, leaving traces of tiny handprints visible on your back window.

I had heard that in October the curious and the spooked begin to queue as they attempt to recreate the legend. We were expecting to see several cars anxiously lined up. But when we arrived, there was not one. It was, indeed, a lonely stretch of road. The streets around us carried the names of children. Some would say they are the names of those that perished in the tragic accident.

The light began to dim and the dusk began to pall around us. To add to the eerie atmosphere, the headless corpse of a copper-feathered rooster lay close near the crossing. It left a stench of death and decay in the air. In the distance was heard the sound of another rooster crowing.

Then, they started to come. First one car, then another neared the tracks, pausing as the passengers shot quick, anxious glances at one another before they crossed over - the tracks, that is. Once over, they would stop, inspect the glass, sprinkle more talc on the window, and circle around to do it again. Before long there were eight cars eager with anticipation. It was dark now, and as couples and families piled out of their cars they used each others headlamps and flashlights to search for the manifestations of the small spirits.

One family who arrived early said they were visiting from Florida. Their 9-year-old daughter, Jackie, was caught up in the moment, certain this was proof-positive of the other-worldly beings.<"Now, this is weird," she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she pointed to small handprints clearly evident on her uncle's car. But what did she have to fear from these tiny Caspers? Kindly or not, the fingerprints filled her with an awful dread.

There are other spooky San Antonio tales that resurface in the weeks before Halloween. Like the one about a woman dancing in a cantina off of Hwy. 90 on Roosevelt. According to that legend, the woman looked down to notice that her partner had the feet of a chicken. The Lechusa caveat is that you should never look back when you hear an owl whistle, for the owl/witch will then come after you. There is also the legend of La Llorona, who haunts Woman Hollaring Creek, tearfully bemoaning the drowning death of her children.

This was a haunting experience, to be sure. We were, eager to put it to the test, and, yes, we did move over the tracks. Then we pulled over to see what was there to be seen. At first we saw nothing, but then we began to make out....yes, tiny handprints. But whether they were evidence of something ghostly, or left by our own hands, it is difficult to say. (It is Halloween, afterall!)

I hear tell that a significant line does queue in front of the rail tracks at midnight on Halloween. Perhaps not so many that vendors setup shop, but, enough to create an air of excited anticipation...and possibly a police patrol.

Blood was indeed spilt the night of our visit to the haunted railroad tracks. But do not fear the undead. Instead, beware the mosquitoes, for they were not unlike the mammoth-sized versions featured in "Jumanji". They covered my hands as I tried to snap pictures, alighting on my flesh to greedily feast. I slapped the thirsty demons, and blood splattered across my chest. I felt no remorse.

To read about other favorite San Antonio haunts, go to your local library or bookseller to find:

Ghosts of San Antonio by Scott A. Johnson
Spirits of San Antonio and South Texas by Docia Williams
History and Mystery of the Menger Hotel by Docia Williams
When Darkness Falls: Tales of San Antonio Ghosts and Hauntings, by Docia Williams
Texas Ghost Stories: Fifty Favorites for the Telling by Tim Tingle, Doc Moore, John O. West and John L. Davis