The Legend of Lady Bend Hill of the Old National Trail, by Ken Williams
Ken Williams is a poet, folklorist, and retired educator from Kennonsburg, Ohio. He is a father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, and has authored or co-authored several books of poetry and short stories.
The work appeared in “To Write the World: An Anthology of SE Ohio Writers.” The volume was a joint publication of North Meridian Books and Belmont County District Library. The anthology is an effort to promote the writings of local SE Ohio writers following the Summer 2023 Adult Writing Series. Patrons were given the chance to attend any of six workshops run by Wesley R. Bishop, editor at North Meridian, and then submit pieces for consideration. To purchase the anthology follow this link.
On the Old National Trail
There’s a hill called Lady Bend
Its past is full of folklore
But its future’s looking dim.
Just a wagon trail in days of old
Powered by beasts of burden,
And countless trail hand drovers
With livestock they were herdin’.
It served the needs of pioneer travelers
Year round and without fail,
That narrow strip of muddy road
Known as the Old National Trail.
Yes, they traveled the Old National Trail,
But they never will again.
Each day they plodded up and down that hill called Lady Bend;
There were bandits of the vilest kind who also trod this path,
And made many innocent travelers victims of their wrath.
Now let me tell you the story
Of the hill called Lady Bend,
Where one stormy night in 1833
A legend did begin!
This headstrong young girl from Wheeling
Did what her parents said not to do
She rode through a fierce thunderstorm to meet her lover
In a town they called Fairview.
Oh, the passionate lass with a heart of fire,
Sped through the night toward her desire!
Holding visions of the love of her life
Hoping soon to be his wife.
Fair lady of the bending hill,
Knew nothing of her plight
She rode with her steed at breakneck speed
To a tragic death that night.
Not a trace was ever found
Of this young lady fair;
But for many years to come, a coachman or wagonnaire
Would sight this headless woman floating in mid-air.
The sad part of the story
Is a young life had to end,
But then and there was born a legend,
The Haunt of Lady Bend!
Now the glory days are over
Lady Bend lies there without a sound
Never more will heavy wagons
Take this trail from town to town.
Gone now is the sticky clay pike and the Old National Trail
Route 40’s just a side road and goes no one knows where
Now Interstate 70 is efficiency at its best
Trucks and cars go speeding by
While Old Lady Bend’s at rest!