Down in an area near San Antonio, there is the Legend of the "Donkey Lady". She is reportedly the spirit of a horribly mutated woman appearing as almost that of a half woman, half donkey. She is reported to haunt a bridge in the woods south of town, and this location has become a hotspot for local thrill seekers both young and old.
This story is not directly related to me, but happened to some friends of mine. I have known them all my life, and have no reason not to beleive them. One night in late 1987,while at my best friends house, four fellow companions showed up. Bored and looking for something to do, we sugested they visit the "Donkey Lady Bridge". This location was only a short drive from the house, (five or six miles), and was a local favorite amongst late night stories. They agreed and were soon driving out of sight.
About six hours later, their vehicle returned to our drive way with only one occupant. Assuming he had taken the girls home, and that he was ready to party in SA, we went out, anxious to greet him. What we found at the car is something I'll never forget; the windshield was busted, the front dented, and there was what appeared to be blood all over the hood.
We immediatly ran over to the drivers door, to see if John was alright. However, John was just sitting there staring out the window, with a blank expression on his face. After several minutes of consitant badgering, we finally got him to talk.
He, Lisa, Terri, and Jill arrived at the bridge. They began to honk thier horn and call for the Donkey Lady. (According to legend this is how you are supposed to get her attention.) After about 15 minutes of not seeing anything, they decided to go into the woods and look for themselves. What happened next was truly incredible, and if I hadn't of known John all my life, and seen the car, I would not have believed him.
While walking in the woods, John said he got the feeling they were being watched. He immmediatly stopped and told everyone to be quiet. Looking around and evaluating the situation, he discovered what appeared to be two eyes staring at them off in the distance. These eyes seemed to be reflecting the moon light, and were of a color that he said to be indescribable. Immediatly the girls panicked, and began to run back to the car. John was quick to follow, and soon after he turned away there was a horrible scream from the direction of the eyes. He described it as almost being a cry from an intelligent animal.
To afraid to turn around, he picked up the pace as he ran to the car. When he got there, the girls were already in the car, screaming for him to get in and leave. As he was trying to find his keys, he heard what seemed to be the sounds of a horse running in their direction. Starting the car, he slammed it into gear and put it to the floor. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the road in front of them. To afraid to stop, John collided with the fiqure. It hit the hood of the car and rolled over the roof. Looking in his rear view mirror, he said he thought the figure got up and continued to pursue them.
After hearing this and seeing the condition of the car, Steve and I immediatly felt this deserved a second look. John told us he would never return to that bridge again, but if we wanted to risk our lives to go right ahead. Grabbing two flashlights, and a pair of shotguns (these were the biggest weapons Steve's father had)we jumped in my pickup and made way for the bridge.
As we drew closer, we slowed down and turned on the many off road lights my truck had. These lit the road, and the woods to the side of us as if it were daytime, giving us an outstanding view of the bridge as we approached. The first thing we noticed as the bridge drew near, were the numerous amounts of blood on the road. However, these were the only signs of evidence we could find.
Upon investigation of the woods by foot, (and shotguns) we discovered what seemed to be several tracks of a small unshod horse leading to the road. After several hours of looking and not finding anything else, we returned to the house. By this time John had already found his way home, and we layed in bed, to excited to sleep.
To this day, none of the four individuals involved in this story have returned to the bridge. Did John actually see and strike the Donkey Lady that night, or was it merely a stray pony startled by their presence? All I know, is that something was there that night, and it scared our friends half to death.