2017-10-18 / County Lifestyles


The Devil’s Lagoon
by Juan Sauvageau

Many places in Texas have the reputation of being haunted. It’s repeated all around that strange sounds are heard and weird things are seen at these spots. Horrible tragedies occur sometimes on these sites.

I’m not talking only of haunted houses (these are found in practically every locality) but of hills, roads, bridges and lagoons. Many people in Alice, for example, will tell you the Amargosa bridge brings bad luck to those who linger on it .

There is a lagoon, located close to Rosita in the Rio Grande Valley, that is said to be haunted. It is called the Devil’s Lagoon.

As much as I could find out, this name was given to the lagoon because of a terrible accident which took place there in 1895. The stagecoach full of passengers was coming down the road at full speed; suddenly the driver, for an unknown reason, veered the coach from the road straight into the lagoon. The stagecoach, the driver, the passengers, the horses disappeared into the dark water without leaving a trace.

In 1960, a group of boys got together after a football game in Raymondville. Somehow the conversation fell upon ghosts and someone mentioned the Devil’s Lagoon. David turned pale. He said he had been there at midnight and it was true what they said about the lagoon.

Frightening things did take place at midnight.

They laughed at him , telling him he had watched too many Frankenstein’s movies. He answered, “If you’re so sure of that, why don’t you go there tonight and see for yourselves?”

He added, “Don't count on me to go along with you! One time is enough!”

The boys couldn’t back down. They decided to pay a visit to the ghosts of Devil's Lagoon.

They got there without any difficulty. The night was dark. They had barely arrived when they noticed bubbles of light coming to the surface of the water. Branches of submerged trees looked like long arms reaching for the sky. Once in a while, a fish would swim leaving a trace of light behind.

The kids did not want to admit it to one another but it was spooky. They would have gone to the safety of their cars, but they could not move, they seemed paralyzed.

They noticed strange movements in the water. Black figures would come out and sink again below the surface. It looked like an old stagecoach darkened by the water and the years.

At the stroke of midnight, the coach came out and they heard the driver cracking the whip over the horses, while the frightened voices of the passengers filled the night. The coach sank again. It lasted only a few seconds. There was silence again. Not a spark of light in the lagoon, not a ripple over the water.

Staying very close to one another the boys hurried to their cars, too afraid to utter a word.

Did they actually see the old stage coach?

Did they really hear voices and screams? I don’t know. I only write what I hear. But one thing is sure, the boys never went back to Devil’s Lagoon at midnight.

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