Buried Alive in the Columbia-Wrightsville Bridge

A Monumental Crossing

Spanning the mighty Susquehanna River between Columbia and Wrightsville, Pennsylvania, the Veterans Memorial Bridge is both an architectural marvel and a lasting tribute to history. Officially known as the Columbia–Wrightsville Bridge, this towering concrete structure carries Route 462 and stands as the fifth of six bridges to connect these two riverfront towns.

Veterans Memorial Bridge from the Lancaster County side.

Built at a cost of $3 million, construction began in 1929, and the bridge officially opened on September 30, 1930, originally named the Lancaster-York Intercounty Bridge. Over the decades, it has remained a vital artery between Lancaster and York counties, though its role shifted to secondary use after the construction of the Wright’s Ferry Bridge in 1972. In recognition of its significance, the bridge was formally dedicated as the Veterans Memorial Bridge on November 11, 1930, though many locals refer to it as the Columbia–Wrightsville Bridge.

An Engineering Feat

At 7,500 feet long (approximately 1.26 miles), the bridge is considered the longest concrete arch bridge in the world. Its 28 massive arch spans and 20 girder spans support an astonishing 425 million pounds of reinforced concrete, a testament to early 20th-century engineering prowess. The bridge features a 38-foot-wide roadway and a 6-foot pedestrian sidewalk, originally accommodating automobiles for a 25-cent toll—though pedestrians could cross free of charge. Tolls were removed on January 31, 1943, once the construction bonds were fully repaid.

Local legend maintains that Mahlon “Shoe Wizard” Haines of York was the last motorist to pay a toll while his son, Stanley, was the first to cross for free.

This location has long been home to engineering landmarks. Before the current structure, the site hosted the world’s longest covered bridge during the 19th century, a wooden span that famously played a role in the Civil War when Union forces burned it in 1863 to prevent Confederate advances.

Veterans Memorial Bridge

The Future of the Bridge

After nearly a century of service, the bridge is preparing for a major $234 million rehabilitation project beginning in 2027. The extensive work, expected to last five years, will include a full closure for approximately three years, impacting traffic between the two counties. The project aims to restore the bridge to its former glory while preserving its historical significance for future generations.

The Unlucky Seven

While building the Veterans Memorial Bridge was an engineering triumph, it came at a steep cost. Over the 18-month construction period, seven men lost their lives while working on the massive structure.

The first casualty was Dennie L. Kesterton, a 38-year-old master mechanic from Ohio. On July 26, 1929, Kesterton was struck by a gasoline-powered “dinkey” train, a small locomotive used to haul cement across a narrow-gauge line on a temporary trestle bridge. He was rushed to Columbia Hospital, but he did not survive.

Less than two months later, tragedy struck again. John McLaughlin, a 20-year-old laborer from Wilmington, North Carolina, was sent on a routine errand on September 13, 1929—and never returned. After a frantic search, his body was discovered two hours later, his skull crushed. A company official speculated that the boom of a nearby crane had swung unexpectedly, striking him in the head.

On December 5, 1929, Charles E. Taylor, a 47-year-old carpenter from Hallam, York County, met a similar fate to Kesterton. While working on the bridge, Taylor was hit by the dinkey train, sending him plunging into the icy Susquehanna River below. His body landed on thin ice before slipping beneath the water’s surface. A fellow worker braved the freezing river to retrieve him, but it was too late.

The new year brought no respite from disaster. On March 15, 1930, George H. Thompson, a 36-year-old carpenter from New Brunswick, Canada, fell 30 feet from the bridge, landing headfirst on the unforgiving ground. He was transported to the hospital, where he clung to life for four agonizing hours before succumbing to his injuries. His body was returned to Canada for burial.

Veterans Memorial Bridge at night.

Less than a month later, on April 8, 1930, David Stoner, a 54-year-old carpenter from York, formerly of Mount Joy, suffered what witnesses believed was a sudden illness. Without warning, he toppled from the bridge into the river below. When his body was recovered 18 days later, half a mile downstream, he was still clutching his saw in his lifeless grip.

In the final months of construction, two more men lost their lives. Thomas McCabe, a 42-year-old cement finisher from Baltimore, fell from scaffolding on September 20, 1930. He struck his head against one of the bridge’s towering arches before plummeting into the shallow water below. His fellow workers rushed him to Columbia Hospital, but he did not survive.

Just days later, with the bridge nearly complete, the project claimed its final victim. On September 28, 1930, mere hours before construction was officially declared finished, Sydney Lipscomb, a 43-year-old Wiley-Maxon foreman, was overseeing the dismantling of the temporary wooden bridge. A heavy piece of lumber slipped from a cable, crushing him. He was pronounced dead at the hospital.

Buried Alive!

Beyond its role as a crucial transportation link, the bridge has also been the subject of an eerie urban legend. According to local lore, during the bridge’s construction, a laborer fell into the freshly poured concrete of one of the bridge piers. By the time his absence was noticed, the concrete had already begun to set. Efforts to recover his body would have jeopardized the integrity of the structure, or so the story claims. Instead, the decision was made to leave him encased within the bridge’s foundation, where he remains to this day—a permanent, if gruesome, part of the towering span.

While official records confirm the seven tragic fatalities that occurred during the Veterans Memorial Bridge’s construction, no documented evidence supports the claim that a worker was lost in the freshly poured concrete. However, this has done little to quell the whispers. The legend persists, growing with each retelling, as eerie encounters continue to fuel speculation.

Some say his restless spirit still roams the bridge at night, a shadowy figure drifting among the towering arches.

Others claim that motorists traveling the bridge after dark have encountered something far more unsettling—a lone man, dressed in old-fashioned work clothes, standing along the roadside in the middle of the mile-plus-long span. Stranded and out of place, he appears to be a hitchhiker from another time. Over the years, well-meaning travelers have stopped to offer him a ride. Without a word, the mysterious figure silently climbs into the vehicle, his face unreadable, his presence unnerving.

Anachronistic hitchhiker

But before reaching the end of the 7,500-foot bridge, drivers make a chilling discovery.

The passenger is gone.

No door has opened. No sound was made. He has simply vanished.

Many believe this ghostly traveler is none other than the lost worker, forever trapped within the very bridge that became his tomb, doomed to wander in search of an escape he will never find.

Others claim that a ghostly bootprint appears and disappears on one of the bridge’s concrete piers—evidence, believers insist, that the forgotten laborer still lingers, suspended between the physical and spiritual worlds.

Ghostly footprint on the bridge?

Is there truth to these unsettling tales, or are they just another ghost story whispered among locals?

One thing is certain—as long as the Veterans Memorial Bridge stands, so too will the legend of the lost worker, forever entombed in stone and steel.

The Truth

Variations of this tale exist for virtually every large concrete structure around the world, reinforcing its status as a classic urban legend. However, the reality is far less dramatic. The dense latticework of steel rebar within the Veterans Memorial Bridge would make it unlikely for a person to be fully submerged in wet concrete. The interwoven metal rods would halt any descent, preventing a body from sinking deep enough to become permanently entombed. While the legend persists, the structural design itself makes such a fate unlikely.

Even if a person were somehow trapped within the concrete, engineers suggest that leaving a body buried inside would pose a serious structural risk. Over time, as the remains decomposed, they would leave behind an empty void within the superstructure, compromising the bridge’s integrity and strength. For this reason, any such incident would have required an immediate halt to construction to remove the body and properly reinforce the affected area—further debunking the chilling legend.

Columbia resident Jim Haug believes the urban legend began with 20-year-old John McLaughlin’s September 13, 1929 death. McLaughlin’s fatal accident occurred during a nighttime shift change when he mysteriously disappeared. As the night wore on and he remained unaccounted for, concern grew among the workers. At the time, concrete was actively being poured for the bridge’s foundation, and when McLaughlin could not be immediately found, speculation took hold. Many of the laborers ending their shift left believing he had accidentally fallen into the fresh cement—buried alive beneath the structure they had spent months building.

Despite McLaughlin’s body being found two hours later, the grim rumor had already taken root, spreading rapidly among the workforce. Even after the truth was revealed, the idea of a worker being swallowed by the bridge’s concrete endured, mutating over the decades into the legend of the lost laborer—a ghostly figure forever trapped within the bridge’s towering piers.

Read More

Read more stories like this in my first full-length book, Uncharted Lancaster’s Ghosts, Monsters, and Tales of Adventure. This 283-page book is packed with 64 unforgettable stories, all set right here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.


Adventure Awaits!

Never miss a new post or article by signing up for email updates below and following Uncharted Lancaster on Facebook or Instagram.


Resources

2 thoughts on “Buried Alive in the Columbia-Wrightsville Bridge

  1. My dad, John A. Wein, broke his leg saving a man who was in the path of the small train that hauled cement. My dad pushed the man out of the train’s path, but then the train struck my dad’s leg which was severely broken.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Uncharted Lancaster

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading