Aaron Mahnke

Follow up this week's brand new episode with a trip into the past.

Episodes 111, 127, and 136 are waiting for you in this podcast feed.

Just scroll through your app to find them, or you can tap on their direct links in the description for this episode.

Texas, the lone star state whose mythic image of wide-open plains, rugged cowboys, and heroic independence is woven into the fabric of American culture.

But it also bears a shadowy ledger of tragedy, violence, and lingering hauntings.

These dark chapters are not merely footnotes, they are narratives that have shaped local identities, inspired folklore, and even filtered into popular media, reminding us that history is as much about loss and fear as it is about triumph.

Take, for example, the case of the poor colonel who haunts the halls of the Presidio La Bahia, sitting in a chair in the corner waiting for a death sentence that has long since been executed.

His presence is a reminder of the terrible massacre that occurred near the fort nearly two centuries ago, and of the terrible decision-making that he showed at a crucial moment in history and how it has echoed throughout time.

This story, and so many others like it throughout the state, form a tapestry of darkness that underscores a central truth about Texas, that the same landscape that nurtured legends of bravery also gave birth to stories of suffering, injustice, and the uncanny.

And by looking at them, we can gain insight into how trauma is remembered, reshaped, and handed down through the generations.

It influences everything from local folklore to Hollywood cinema.

They say that everything is bigger in Texas, and that includes its legends.

It seems there's a rich vein of dark tales in Texas history.

Tales that continue to haunt the Lone Star State's collective consciousness in an equally big way.

I'm Aaron Manke, and this is Lore Legends.

There is a bridge over the Medina River, just outside of San Antonio.

It's secluded, and the dense trees of the forest crowd the river that it crosses.

If you look at a map, you'll see that its name is the Old Apple White Bridge.

Although, if you speak to the locals, they'll give you a different, much stranger nickname.

The Donkey Lady Bridge.