Terrifying True Urban Legends: Bodies, Bodies, Bodies
A street in Turkey that swallows people whole. A lake full of mysterious bones in India. And a changeling in America. These are times that the legends were true.
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SOURCES
https://web.archive.org/web/20080331235215/http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23825758/
https://www.cbc.ca/news/world/mistaken-identity-has-family-keeping-vigil-over-wrong-woman-1.604391 https://web.archive.org/web/20080328060135/http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23824767/ https://www.toledoblade.com/sports/michigan/2008/03/26/Crash-survivor-misidentified-as-classmate-who-was-killed-marvels-at-life-in-new-book/stories/200803260022 https://www.cnn.com/2016/10/24/health/teen-spanish-new-language-trnd/index.html#:~:text=When he woke up%2C he had no memory of his,and tension of their speech.” https://archive.org/details/BriggsKatharineMaryAnEncyclopediaOfFairies/page/n83/mode/2up?q=elf
https://www.businessinsider.com/hundreds-of-bodies-himalayan-skeleton-lake-photos-2019-10
https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-019-11357-9 https://books.google.com/books?id=r-dZQ8GcXz4C&pg=PA28&source=gbs_selected_pages&cad=1#v=onepage&q&f=false
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/20/science/skeleton-lake-archaeology-roopkund.html?fallback=0&recId=1Pjl26KcWDSOLcSvsxzh2ZOwWqx&locked=0&geoContinent=NA&geoRegion=NY&recAlloc=control&geoCountry=US&blockId=home-discovery-vi-prg&imp_id=301371102 https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/dehradun/on-a-journey-of-faith-devotees-trek-to-high-altitude-lake-to-fetch-brahmakamal-for-goddess-nanda-devi/articleshow/54281530.cms
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-56116533
https://web.archive.org/web/20221007182144/https://www.hurriyet.com.tr/yazarlar/ates-yalazan-arsiv-balikcisi/tarihin-en-garip-en-korkunc-kazasi-42117132 https://www.anews.com.tr/life/2023/08/10/58th-anniversary-of-unusual-traffic-accident-that-claimed-26-lives https://web.archive.org/web/20221007180644/https://www.trhaber.com/genel/tarihin-en-korkunc-trafik-kazasinin-uzerinden-57-yil-gecti-1965-yilinda-meydana-gelen-hendek-kazasinda-26-yolcu-eriyerek-can-verdi-h61673.html https://nj.gov/health/eoh/rtkweb/documents/fs/1356.pdf
TRANSCRIPT
There’s a lonely span of highway in Turkey, just south of the Black Sea. The D-100. It stretches for hundreds of miles across the entire country, from Bulgaria to Iran, and if you were driving along it at night, you’d find long stretches of near darkness between the scattered towns, the headlight beams the only light for miles. It’s incredibly eerie as you’re winding through the mountains trying to find your destination.
And because of that, there’s a lot of urban legends about this road. Specifically one that comes from a town called Kargali Hanbaba (Kar-gah-leh Hanbaba), two and a half hours east of Istanbul.
The legend says that One night, just after midnight the townspeople of Kargali Hanbaba were awoken by the unmistakable sounds of a car crash. One man was awake at the time, and he described it as a large crunch after large crunch, like cars were piling up on one another.
He hurried out of his house, down towards the D100 which cut through their town, and As he approached, he could smell something burning, acrid and horrible, and there was smoke in the air. In the faint light from a cracked headlight, he watched a dozen passengers rush out of their cars and flee across the road. He waved toward them, trying to get their attention, to help them, but before he could reach them, screams erupt from the group.
The man ran the last few yards to the highway but could only watch in horror at what he found: as each of the passengers took a step onto the highway, the moment their foot touched the concrete, they started to melt. He watched as a dozen people writhed in agony and cried for help. But there was nothing he could do. And one by one, they disappeared.
Today, that legend is passed around by travelers who have to traverse the D100 through Kargali Hanbaba, watch out for the demon road, it can swallow you whole. And you better pray you don’t break down in that town, because if you have to step foot on that stretch of road, you’ll melt like a firecracker popsicle on a hot day.
Now, There are plenty of urban legends about road trips - drivers who are actually ghosts, murderous hitchhikers, or even possessed cars that try to run other drivers off the highway. But the road itself swallowing a dozen people down to the depths below… that’s a wild, unique twist. And it's not like anything I’ve ever heard before.
But what if I told you, there was a true story behind this legend, that is, dare I say, even more upsetting than the legend itself. You’d probably say, Of course there is Kaelyn, this is heart starts pounding it’s LITERALLY What I listen to this podcast for.
Well my spooky little listeners, you’re in luck.
This is heart starts pounding, and I’m your host, Kaelyn Moore. And today, we’re talking about three terrifying times that the legends were true.
Now, I love sitting here in my study reading through old urban legends, and I will say, some of these came from you guys. So if you grew up in a town where legends were passed around, you can always write to me. There’s a form on the website, heartstartspounding.com
I want to get back into the story, but first, I want to shout out this community. If you’re listening to the ad supported version on the audacy app or wherever you get your podcasts, thank you so much. Our sponsors help make the show possible.
And if you’re a patreon or apple podcasts subscriber, I am so thankful for your support–seriously. And special shoutout to our listener Emma this week who reached out to tell me that they are getting their PHD in the history of Madness. I love you guys, please always let me know what macabre or morbid things you’re doing with your lives.
Ok, let’s get back to it, ready jinx? (JINX BREATHY GHOSTY SOUND) and as always, listener discretion is advised.
It was August 11, 1965. A commercial passenger bus was travelling overnight from Istanbul to Ankara, a distance of about 275 miles or 443 km.
40 people were on board, heads leaned against windows gazing out into the darkness, while the driver trekked through the night. Around 2AM, the bus reached this 100 mile or 160 km stretch of the highway between Izmit and Bolu that was especially sparse and very dark. Barely any light but the moon, passengers looking out the windows wouldn't have been able to see much.
the driver, Özdemir Süer (ohz,deh,meer, soo-air) had taken this route dozens of times; he didn’t mind there was no light, he could probably do it in his sleep.
Just after 3AM, the bus was cruising through Kargali Hanbaba, a small village of about 1000 residents. When the driver saw something out in the road in front of him. It was a dark shape in the middle of the highway that was rapidly approaching. Through the darkness, he couldn’t judge how far away it was, that is, until it was too late.
It was a broken down tanker truck. The bus driver slammed on the brakes, but there wasn’t enough time. <<low boom sound>>
The bus had slammed into the back of the tanker. Özdemir lifted his head, he was alive, by some miracle, and he turned around to check on his passengers, fearing the worst. And he saw that They were shaken up, but no one was injured, and some of them were even still asleep, undisturbed by the commotion. Thankfully, it seemed like a minor accident.
But as Özdemir headed back toward the driver seat, the color drained from his face. Through the windshield he saw plumes of smoke rising up. And Worried the engine had caught fire, he swung the front doors open and turned back towards his passengers. Everyone needed to get off the bus immediately. If the fire spread to the gas line, the whole bus could explode.
Everyone did as they were told, they stood up from their seats and ran towards the front exit.. Smoke was now clouding through the open front door, so people covered their mouths as they ran. Özdemir ushered everyone down the steps, but as the first group stepped onto the road, the pavement felt unusually hot.
They could hardly see the ground because of the smoke, but the burning sensation was climbing up their feet towards their ankles and legs. the passengers on the road started to fall to the ground in pain, feeling like they were being burned alive.
At that point, a group of townspeople had gathered after hearing the commotion, and they watched as the passengers fall to the ground, and their skin started melting off of them wherever they made contact with the pavement. But the strange thing was, there was no fire near them.
through the murky, swirling smoke, one of the passengers spotted a drainage ditch filled with water on the other side of the highway. Özdemir and a few passengers made a beeline for safety. Running around the people writhing in pain and screaming for help. Desperate for relief, they all jumped into the water. Safe from whatever invisible force was burning the others.
But the water burned worse than the fire. The townspeople heard the screams of each person as their bodies hit the liquid, and watched as their heads went below the surface but never came back up.
Thats because It wasn’t water in the ditch. The broken down tanker truck had been carrying nitric acid, an extremely corrosive chemical that can dissolve skin in high concentrations. Nitric acid is most commonly used in acid attacks because of its ability to melt skin quickly. It’s also used in the creation of explosives and often fertilizer, which is maybe why the truck was carrying it.
When the bus ran into the truck, the tank was damaged, and acid started to spill all over the road and down into the drainage ditch. When the water that was in the drainage ditch mixed with the acid, it caused an exothermic reaction, releasing a huge amount of heat, which made all of the water in the ditch boil off a create a huge amount of steam.
There wasn’t an engine fire - the smoke, the burning in their feet, it was all caused by the spill. And instead of jumping into a ditch of water, the first dozen passengers had leapt to their deaths in a pool of undiluted acid. Their bodies dissolved in moments. Those still standing on the road suffered severe burns, and several later died at the hospital from their injuries.
But many of the bodies were never recovered, they had completely dissolved, so the victims’ family members constructed a monument next to the crash site listing their names, a white marble structure that still stands today. And if you ever find yourself on that long stretch of highway, you can stop on the side of the road and read them one by one.
Our next story takes us over to India, to the base of the Nanda Devi(Day-Vee) mountain. This mountain sits nestled in the Himalayan Mountain range and is the second tallest mountain in all of india, with an elevation almost as high as a plane’s cruising altitude.
Legends have surrounded this mountain for as long as humans have lived by it, but there's one a particular one I want to share with you that blends modern and ancient folklore
The legend says that a hundred years ago, there were two young boys who lived by the base of the mountain. One day, they were playing tag and started chasing each other higher and higher up the mountain. They were laughing and squealing with excitement, and they weren’t paying attention to how high they were going, when all of a sudden (Bone crack) one of them stepped on something that snapped like a twig. They looked out and realized they were halfway up the mountain, and snow was surrounding them. But even more surprising was there, below their feet, were bones. Thousands and thousands of human bones, skulls and all.
The two boys looked at each other in disbelief. They must have found the Goddess Nanda Devi’s grave graveyard.
There was an ancient legend to this mountain. One that said the goddess Nanda Devi, who the mountain is named after, killed an entire town who she felt didn’t respect her.
In the legend, the king of an ancient civilization in the area marries a princess, but they don’t properly give thanks to Goddess Nanda, so the Goddess doesn’t attend their wedding.
The king wants to make it up to Nanda so he invites her to his home, but when she’s inside, he doesn’t offer her any water. This angers the Goddess even more.
Finally, the King says he’s going to make it right, so he leads his kingdom up Nanda’s mountain, but when the Goddess comes down, she sees the parade as a disgusting display of the King's ego. The subjects are praising him, there are dancers who are half naked and gyrating. This was not a celebration for Nanda, this was a Mockery.
In anger, the Goddess Nanda hurled hail at the townspeople, and it hit them in the heads like massive frozen bullets. Then, she deployed an avalanche which buried them all at the lake. The boys thought that must be the lake they stumbled upon.
The legend of the two boys has always felt like just that, a legend. Anyone who looks at the mountain would see how difficult it would be for two young boys to traverse halfway up in an afternoon.
But the locals had always wondered. Are the bones of the people Nanda killed really up there? Is there some truth to the legend.
Well, in 1942, a mountain ranger named Hari (Hah-ree) Kishan Madwal was hiking through Nanda Devi National park on an ecological survey mission. When he came upon a lake, nestled in a small valley.
Actually, Hari thought calling it a “lake” might be too generous. It was only 130 feet wide - less than an olympic sized swimming pool. It sat at 15,000 feet elevation in a bowl surrounded by mountain peaks, fed by the melting glacier runoff. It was the warmer months, but the lake was still frozen around the rim which made him think that it wasn’t all that deep.
As he approached the lake, all that could be heard was the rhythmic crunch of his boots over gravel and twigs hidden under a light covering of snow. The closer he got, the louder the twig snapping sound got, actually. And lower, like he was breaking entire branches. But scanning the area, Hari realized that there were no trees around him.
Then Hari noticed a small pile of rocks a few feet from the shore with a few dark fuzzy patches growing on them – lichen, perhaps. He pulled out his notebook and bent down to examine it more closely. It was an unfamiliar black color, and he didn’t recognize the growth pattern. A new species, perhaps? He picked up one of the rocks to collect a sample.
Except it wasn’t a rock - Hari was holding a human skull. The patch of “lichen” was hair and skin, semi-preserved by the frozen lake., Hari flung it back to the pile on the ground, and that’s when he saw: they were all skulls, at least a dozen. Retracing his steps, he kicked away the top layer of slushy snow from his path, revealing more bones. Every hollow branch pop had actually been a femur, a tooth, a rib.
Hari scanned the shore, stupefied; he was standing in a mass grave. There were thousands of bones scattered around from hundreds of bodies.
When Hari returned from his survey and reported what he found at the Lake, officials feared the worst. It was the height of WW2, so They assumed the bones may have belonged to Japanese soldiers who had died during an attempt at a surprise invasion.
But many of them had heard the old legend of the Goddess Nanda, and they wondered if the bones could be from her time.
So a few months later, a group went up to inspect the bones, and they found, amongst the remains, scattered artifacts like arrowheads, shoes, and jewelry. These were not the bones of Japanese soldiers, some of these remains were over a thousand years old, likely from the 8th century.
Other skeletons in the area still had some skin and hair caked to parts of them, making them seem like they weren’t quite as old.
And that’s when one of them picked up a human skull to inspect it just a little closer. And there, in the back, was a hole. Like the person had suffered a sharp blow to the head. The group picked up more of the skulls and noticed that most of them had similar injuries.
A sharp blow to the head? Could it have been from Hail like the story of Nanda?
The expedition team was baffled. Why did hundreds of people come to Roopkund Lake, in an isolated and treacherous location in the mountains? And what killed them all?
One of the first theories proposed was that Roopkund had been used as a cemetery by a local civilization at some point. Maybe there had been some kind of epidemic and they took their dead to the lake to avoid the spread of disease, which is why there were so many people from the same era?
Another suggested that these were the remains of a defeated army during the Dogra-Tibetan war in 1841. There were reports of a band of 70 surviving soldiers who had retreated home through the mountains; perhaps these were their fallen armsmen. But anyone who looked at the area could tell the bodies were older than just 100 years.
For almost 80 years, no one had any answers as to who the people at the lake were. That is until 2019, when the mystery of Skeleton Lake got even stranger.
So In 2019, a group of scientists ran the first comprehensive DNA study on the bones using samples from 38 “individuals.” And it turned all the previous theories about Roopkund on their head.
First, however the bones got there, it actually happened at different times, over a span of a thousand years. The oldest samples are dated to the 7th century; the most recent to the 1800s. Instead of one “mass extinction” event, carbon dating showed two distinct periods of time.
Samples from the first group range from 675 to 985 CE. For context, Charlemagne ruled from 768 to 814 CE. This is the same time period of the collapse of Mayan civilization.
So the theory became that the groups were travelers who were coming to Nanda Mountain for a festival called Nanda Devi Raj Jat, which has been held every 12 years since the 8th century.
It’s possible that the bones from this group are the remains of people who died making the pilgrimage during that period of time. But there’s a huge gap from 985 to the 1800’s, so what happened to all of the travellers in that time? Maybe they all got lucky?
Even twistier yet, DNA testing showed the bodies had different ancestries: most were East Asian and seemed to come from the area,, but in the group of skeletons that were dated from the 1800’s, 14 of them were Greek, specifically from the Isle of Crete. 3,000 miles away.
And this was beyond baffling to the researchers, and it kind of threw the theory that they were there for a festival in the mountains out the window. Why would visitors from Greece travel all the way to the mountain for the festival?
But if it wasn’t the festival, what brought them into the mountains? And what killed them?
Well many locals, to this day, say it was the Goddess Nanda. And for now, that might be the best guess we have.
There are plenty of urban legends around the world that feature imposters. Black-eyed children that play on the sympathy of strangers, only to reveal themselves as demonic creatures. Maybe you’ve heard the one where Avril Lavigne secretly died 20 years ago and was replaced by a lookalike named Melissa. They range from downright terrifying, to kind of odd
this isn’t a new fear - these imposter urban legends come from folklore stemming from thousands of years ago. In Irish and Scottish folklore, these imposters are called “changelings.” In most versions of the legend, malevolent fairies kidnapped human babies and replaced them with an “other” - it might have been a wooden carving of a baby, a simulacrum, that was enchanted to look like a real child.
Sometimes the changeling was a fairy baby that had been rejected. In any case, the human was stolen, raised by the fairies, and the replacement, the changeling, died soon after the swap.
But changelings weren’t exclusively children. Certain legends claim that teenagers and sometimes even adults were kidnapped, if the fairies thought the real person was worth it, like if they were particularly beautiful or talented.
The myth of the changeling is one of the longest surviving legends from folklore that still appears in our urban legends today.
So why would a legend that someone was stolen in the middle of the night and replaced with someone else persist for so long. Is it maybe because there’s real stories from our world that keep reinforcing it? Are there real stories of someone being replaced, of real imposters infiltrating our world that keep spreading, further and further until they become urban legends?
Well, This is one of those stories.
On April 26, 2006, six college students in Indiana piled into a van. They were on their way to set up a banquet for the inauguration of the new president of their school, Taylor University and figured they should all carpool together.
The group was driving towards the university on I-69, when in the distance a large semi truck was coming down the road in their direction. It was kind of swerving, as if the driver was drunk. But as the truck got closer, it became apparent that the driver was in a much worse position than that, he was fast asleep at the wheel. Before the group could do anything, the semi truck veered and barrelled into the van.
A few hours later, Don and Susie Van Ryn got one of the worst phone calls a parent could get. Their 22-year-old daughter, Laura, had been in a serious car accident and was now in critical condition at the hospital.
Susie hung up the phone in utter shock, no one ever thinks that’ll happen to their loved one. She couldn’t break down, now. Susie went upstairs and woke up Laura’s sister, Lisa, and held it together enough to share the news. Within an hour, the Van Ryns were packed and in the car heading to Laura’s bedside.
I don’t know what they were expecting to see, but the scene at the hospital was horrible. Laura lying in a hospital bed, completely comatose, her face covered in bandages, there were tufts of her blonde hair peaking out from over them. There were tubes everywhere. Seeing her this way was really devastating for her family. Her face was so bruised and swollen, she hardly looked like herself.
A doctor came into the room and told them just how lucky their family was, though. Laura was the only survivor of the crash. Her five other friends had all died in the collision.
Susie could hardly handle that news so she just thanked God for sparing her daughter. She held onto her faith that Laura would wake up, and she sat by her side day and night, talking to her, singing her favorite songs.
Laura had always been such a bright, happy child that Susie had used the pet name “Sunshine.” Now, she took her daughter's hand, ignoring the IV line taped to her skin, and sang to her: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey…”
Please God,, don’t take my sunshine away, Susie prayed every day
Eventually, Laura’s five other friends were buried, without Laura there to say goodbye. There was a vigil held for them at the school. Each day, Laura’s family would look at her and worry that she’d be next, that she’d be buried with her friend.
But After a few weeks, she woke up from her coma. she had a long road to recovery ahead of her. She really struggled to speak, she couldn't say more than a few words at a time, but the doctors assured the Van Ryns that this was to be expected. Laura had suffered extreme trauma, it would take a while to get back to normal.
She would probably have gaps in her memory and might become confused easily. She also might use the wrong words for things as her brain reformed neurological pathways. Their support was essential to helping her along. So they made sure that one of them was by her bedside day and night.
One afternoon, Laura’s sister Lisa, was watching over her, reading a book to her. The swelling was starting to go down, and her sister was starting to look more like herself.
Well, actually. Lisa put the book down and gave her sister a good look.. Had Laura’s hairline always been like that? Well, it had probably changed a bit because of the stitches on her scalp.
That was easy to write off, but then one day Lisa was talking to a nurse who mentioned that Laura’s belly button was pierced, that was news to Lisa, and sisters talked about everything. Like Laura had literally called her sister once to tell her she was switching shampoos; why would she have kept a body piercing a secret? She wouldn’t have told their parents if that’s what she was worried about.
Lisa started thinking about other things that had seemed strange once Laura woke up. Like, Lisa had been so happy when her sister first woke up, she’d cried. She held her sisters hand and looked into her now open eyes. Eyes that now seemed more grey than blue. She had thought maybe that was a side effect of a head injury, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Lisa kept reassuring herself; these were silly worries. All that mattered was that Laura was alive, recovering more and more every day.
One day when she was sitting by her sisters bed, Laura’s boyfriend, Aaron, ducked his head in the room. Laura had recently been moved from the critical ward, and that meant non-family members were finally allowed to visit. Aaron had stopped by the previous two days also, but Laura had been asleep. Seeing that she was awake now, Aaron took a few steps in the room.
Lisa stood up from her chair - she was going to give them a few minutes alone. So Aaron took her place at Laura’s bedside and reached for her hand. But there was no reaction from Laura, no smile; she just stared at Aaron. When he leaned in to kiss her cheek, Laura flinched. Her eyes were wide, bewildered. Like she didn’t recognize him. But that seemed crazy. They’d been together for years.
The next afternoon, Lisa sat in the hospital room with her parents. She’d told them what happened with Aaron, but they reminded her that the doctors had warned them about this. Laura was just confused; it didn’t mean anything. But Lisa was having a harder time letting go of her questions today.
A nurse entered with a wheelchair to take Laura for her physical therapy session. She asked if any of the Van Ryns would like to accompany her; having a familiar face in the room can be helpful. Lisa quickly volunteered - she would play cheerleader while her parents took a break and grabbed some lunch.
Don and Susie tried not to fuss over Laura too much as the nurse helped her into the wheelchair. Don promised to bring her a bag of salt and vinegar chips, her favorite. Susie kissed her forehead, wishing her good luck in the session. Lisa saw the same wide, muddled look in Laura’s eyes.
Then, as the nurse wheeled the chair out of the room, Lisa heard her sister mutter under her breath: “False parents.” It sent shivers down Lisa’s spine.
During that session, Laura was working on her fine motor skills, practicing picking things up and using them, like cutlery and markers.
Lisa applauded as her sister successfully picked up and uncapped her third marker. It was slow but steady progress. A few days ago she couldn’t bring a spoon all the way to her mouth.
The therapist set a piece of paper in front of Laura - did she want to try writing a few words? How about something simple, like her name?
Laura concentrated and carefully formed letters on the page. And she proceeded to write down W-H-I-T-N-E-Y. Whitney? Immediately, alarm bells went off in Lisa’s mind.
That’s okay, the therapist reassured her, trying to cover her disappointment, it was normal for Laura to not remember her own name. This session was about her motor skills, not her memory, and she’d done a great job today. They could stop there today.
As she wheeled Laura back to her hospital room, Lisa’s head was spinning. This was bad, this was really bad.
Lisa stopped walking. She tabulated all the small concerns from the last few weeks, realizing that they added up to something much bigger. She knelt down in front of Laura and looked at her squarely. Into her eyes that were a different color than before
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The woman in the chair took a determined breath, then whispered: “Whitney.”
Lisa finally said what she had been thinking all week: “You’re not my sister.”
The woman in the chair shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, then whispered again: “Whitney.”
Lisa was devastated. What had happened to Laura?
Demanding answers, the Van Ryns raised the alarm with the hospital doctors, insisting that they check dental records to confirm her true identity. It wasn’t Laura. The woman they’d stood vigil over for five weeks, the woman they’d prayed for, sang to, read to was named Whitney Cerak.
She was a fellow college student at Taylor University and one of the passengers in the van during the accident. She had been declared dead by first responders but no one at the coroner's office had actually done any tests to confirm the identities of the other people killed during the crash. Whitney’s own family had been too distraught to see her body in the morgue. They wanted to remember her as she was, not broken and bloody.
First responders explained that the crash site was chaotic. The semi truck had slammed head-on with the passenger van, shredding through metal. They had done their best to identify the victims based on the personal items they found on the scene. They found Whitney’s purse next to Laura’s body and based on their similar physical appearance - height, weight, blonde hair, blue eyes - made an assumption. In this case, it was the wrong one.
Even as the Van Ryns fell into grief over their daughter, Susie made sure that the hospital immediately called the Ceraks to tell them what happened. It was 2 in the morning, but she couldn’t let Whitney’s mother keep thinking she’d lost her daughter for another single second.
And this time, when she saw the faces of her mother, father, and sister, there was no doubt, no vacant confusion. Whitney recognized all of her family immediately.
The Van Ryns didn’t hold any ill will toward Whitney or the Ceraks; they focused on mourning Laura, never forgetting that four other people lost their lives in the crash, too.
While the truth was a relief for Whitney, it brought struggles of its own. She had heard the details of the funeral her parents had held a month earlier, what people had said at her memorial service. She grappled with survivor’s guilt; why hadn’t the real Laura been spared? What purpose was Whitney supposed to fulfill?
It took Whitney several years to fully recover from her injuries. She was eventually able to return to Taylor University and complete her degree in Psychology. She wrote a book about her experience and what it meant to her. She wrote that she feels a kinship with Laura still; like she’s living for both of them now.
The story of Whitney and Laura has become a sort of urban legend of its own. The town still talks of how once, the wrong girl was buried, though they don’t always get all of the details right. And the story spreads and spreads and spreads until its indistinguishable from folklore
And that;s why I love telling these stories, so that we can all understand the real story of the real people behind some of these legends. Because I said, here at Heart Starts Pounding, in our little Rogue Detecting Society headquarters, sometimes the legends are true.
But that’s all I have for you today. Next week is Valentine’s Day for those of you who celebrate, and for those who don’t–well, the stories I’m going to tell might make you glad you don’t. Until then, stay curious.