As kids growing up in Oklahoma, my brother and I loved buying those SPOOKY STORIES books from the school book fair. Paperback, two dollars, filled with one page stories about Mothman or Crybaby Bridge. There’s plenty of local ghost stories in Oklahoma to keep any imagination busy, but I guess we wanted more.
One of our favorite stories was about the GOATMAN, a scientist from a Maryland agricultural research center who was turned into a goat-man hybrid after a lab accident. Goatman lurks on dark country roads, waiting for teenagers to park and do their teenage drinking-and-necking thing. Then he jumps out and smashes their car with a sledgehammer!
That’s how I remember it, anyhow. Modernfarmer.com says Goatman uses an axe or rock.
My family renamed a road that led from our house to town “Goatman Road.” Why? Well… we kinda saw Goatman. Here’s how it happened:
My family was at the county fair one cool and clear October evening. There was a full moon out. The fair was deliciously creepy. There was a snake-lady and a freaky looking chicken and the door to my car on the Scrambler came loose mid-ride. We rode home in the “way back” of the station wagon, Mom intentionally going on the back road so she could hit as many potholes as possible, making us scream and giggle.
On the road, there is a small bridge over a creek. At the time, it was one of those older bridges with a rusty trestle. It’s narrow, so Mom slowed the car down. And that’s when we saw him.
A human shaped figure climbed over the trestle, and leapt onto the road. Mom stopped the car, saying later “I thought it was a man who needed help, and I didn’t want to hit him.” None of us ever saw his face or head clearly. There was something in his hand… a stick? A pipe? A sledgehammer handle?
He approached the car, and instead of the normal knock on the window, he pulled on the car door handle!
I could hear the car door crack open!
We heard a “Baaaa!”
Mom floored it and sped down the road, the passenger door swinging open in the wind.