I didn't expect to find anything strange at Big Bend Tunnel. I had been there before I set out to write a feature about John Henry the historical figure, (as opposed to the better-known myth). I saw nothing strange then, only a statue, (that I thought could look a great deal better), an abandoned shop and an unkept tunnel below. I couldn't, however, figure out how to get to the tunnel on the first visit.

So, I returned a second time. It was daylight, I had just not only happily received directions to said location but found out that a park to honor Mr. Henry was in the works, (far more fitting than leaving only a statue and closed gift shop to honor an icon, I thought). In short, I was happy, unafraid and excited about getting photos of the tunnel at last.

A few yards into the drive down a gravel road that seemed, at that point, to not so much be a road as gravel adjacent to the still-operating train track; (they've built a new tunnel right beside the original Big Ben and trains frequently roll by -- just like in the song, they do seem, if you want them to, to chug, "yonder lies a steel drivin' man" with the whistle echoing the songs refrain of, "lord, lord".

"Stop the car." I said to my boyfriend, who was driving.

"Why?" He answered, thinking it utterly ridiculous, as the tunnel was still a good distance away and the hot summer day wasn't exactly condusive to walking.

"I don't know", I replied, "just stop it."

He did. I got out, walked a few yards and picked up a railroad spike, pointed straight at our tire. It would have punctured it beyond repair had he driven another inch. And it was hand-forged/appeared to date from around the time of Henrys' infamous contest.

We found it a bit strange, held on to the spike, and walked the rest of the way to Big Bend, (which was on the other side, we were right about driving up beside live train tracks - not a good thing). It was eerily cold yards away from the opening, something that was not felt at the adjacent tunnel and more than could be really explained by water in the place or any other element. It was downright creepy, sending chills quite literally down our spines. We saw, (and I photographed) strange fog. I was saddened by the heavy presence of wildflowers along side the tracks and tunnel, seeing such fertile ground as evidence of, as the song says, "They buried John Henry on that mountain, six feet under the sand." They buried lots of people there and not necessarily even that deep. But that's not the really weird part.

When I got home, I was lying down with my little boy. He hadn't been there when I picked up the spike, though I think I did show it to him but said little else as he was about 4 at the time.

"Mommy," he said, "why do you have Jackson?"

"What?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

"Jackson," he said. "You stopped the car, picked up Jackson and he came home with us. And Mommy, you really should take him back," he continued, "he is John Henrys' you know."

He continued along this vein and I eventually was so weirded out that I got up and googled John Henry, Big Bend Tunnel, Jackson. I quickly discovered that the railroad Henry worked on began on the Jackson river. If they named their hammers, (and I assume they did, or spikes), Jackson would have been a logical choice for a man who worked the railroad, following it as it was built and following the Jackson River.

I also found out that Polly Ann, mentioned in the song, was murdered soon after John Henry died and that her ghost is also said to haunt the tunnel. She was, sources now forgotten said, the first victim of murder to be buried in the towns' cemetery. I've wanted to look for the grave but have not had a chance to since. I did, however, ultimately return the spike to the tunnel.

Why? Well, I turned up another little-known legend about John Henry on that Google search my 4 year old sent me on. It was said, though everyone for years believed it to be folklore, that when Henry died all of his spikes, his hammer and other tools used in the contest were buried in the tunnel. When excavated in the 60s, the articles were found. Because the local superstition, (seemingly tied to Voodoo which Henry may well have practiced, as many kept African traditions after coming to America), was so strong, they were returned to their original place once discovered.

Of course, I don't know that the spike was John Henrys. Its' return was, however accompanied by 2 odd sightings. One was a black cat, (the form a spirit, again according to Voodoo is supposed to take), around the statue one time and one time only. The other was the lucky happenstance, (for a photographer), of a train coming through the tunnel just as I was taking a last shot from above.

More to come, this ties in with another ghost story based on trains and tunnels, the Church Hill Tunnel Disaster. I had some very odd things occur when writing that one too.

To be continued...