GROFF MEDIA 2024© TRUTH ENDURES IMDBPRO

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©s

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In the early 1900s, a modest bridge spanned the Washita River just west of Anadarko, Oklahoma. Locally known as Jeremiah’s Bridge, it was a vital crossing point. Over time, it became the center of chilling tales whispered among townsfolk.

A popular legend spoke of a grieving mother. She lost her infant son, Jeremiah, to the river’s relentless currents while traversing the bridge. Each night at midnight, a mist reportedly rose from the waters. It embodied the mother’s spirit as she searched and called out for her lost child. This spectral vision drew curious onlookers, solidifying the bridge’s eerie reputation.

However, beneath this sanitized tale lay a darker, harrowing truth. On June 13, 1913, the bridge bore witness to a brutal act of racial violence. Bennie Simmons, an African American man, was accused of raping and murdering 16-year-old Susie Church. He had allegedly done so on Caddo land north of Anadarko.

The Sheriff had gotten word that trouble was expected in town. He reportedly rode his horse to Apache, southwest of the jail. At sundown, a group of horsemen rode into town. A mob, without a fair trial, seized Bennie from his jail cell. They dragged him to a cottonwood tree near the bridge. There, he was doused in coal oil and set ablaze.

As flames consumed him, Bennie’s agonized prayers and screams were drowned out by the mob’s jeers. Unsatisfied, they riddled his body with bullets, ending his life in laughter and ridicule. This atrocity was reported in local newspapers, yet none of the perpetrators faced justice. The riders had all returned home before sunrise and never identified one another. You can verify the hanging by searching the name Bennie Simmons in search engines.

In the mid-1970s, I was still very young when a customer in my dad’s barbershop told him a story. I sat quietly, listening to him tell the story, confessing to being one of the riders. Over the years, pieces of the story have come together. Gradually, I fully understood the gravity of what the man was saying.

In the aftermath, the community took action. They sought to mask the bridge’s gruesome history. This allowed the legend of the mourning mother to overshadow the actual events. Over time, the name “Jeremiah” became associated not with the lost infant of folklore. Instead, it became a distorted remembrance of Bennie Simmons himself. The bridge stood as a silent testament to the fabricated legend. It also represented the suppressed memory of a man’s unjust death.

Another legend about the bridge carried an even more ominous warning. Folklore said that calling out the bridge’s name while standing on it would cause a family member to die. They believed this would happen without fail. Though dismissed as mere superstition, those who dared test the legend often regretted it.

I was one such witness. As a high school student, I accompanied a group of friends to Jeremiah’s Bridge late one night. We had heard the stories and wanted to test our courage. One of my friends, laughing, boldly called out the bridge’s name. The moment was filled with nervous chuckles and unease, but we eventually left, shaking off the eerie tension.

An hour later, everything changed. We stopped by my home. My parents told us that my friend needed to go home right away. His family had been trying to find him. The message was chilling—a relative was near death in a nearby hospital, and the family was being called in. The coincidence was too striking to ignore. That night, we left the bridge with a different fear. It was not just of ghosts. We also felt the weight of history and the unexplainable forces that seemed to linger over the river.

In 1994, decades later, a fertilizer truck caused the collapse of Jeremiah’s Bridge. This event marked the end of its physical presence. Yet, the stories persist. Both the haunting legend and the grim reality urge reflection on the past. They push for recognition of the truths that history often seeks to bury.

Word is they have replaced the structure with a new bridge. I haven’t returned to those parts in many years. The place only holds memories that I choose to keep safely tucked away.

There is also this conversation about the bridge on YouTube.