When
I was growing up in Connecticut we heard many stories of the Black Dog of the
Hanging Hills (a wonderfully gothic name – sounds like something from a Sherlock
Holmes tale). The supernatural dog roamed the hills, and woe to the unlucky
walker who encountered him. If you saw the red, demonic eyes of the black dog,
er, Black Dog, it was said you’d die in three days. This didn’t stop people
from walking the beautiful hills, but it did make for good campfire stories.
My
new home in Northern Virginia features its own fairly modern urban, or more
precisely, suburban legend: The Bunny Man.
Gather round the fire, get
your marshmallows ready….
In
a rural part of Fairfax County, a country road twists through (Don’t turn to
the left! Ignore those McMansions and the shopping center!) Ahem, where was I?
Oh yes… the road twists past ramshackle abandoned farms and barren fields, then
narrows to a single lane to pass under a decaying railroad bridge. You know the one. The
Bunny Man Bridge.
Well,
my friend heard from her cousin (the captain of the volleyball team) that
there were these kids? And they were parking near the bridge? At midnight? When
some crazy guy who escaped from the insane asylum in A WHITE BUNNY SUIT started chopping on their car roof? With AN AXE! He chopped and chopped,
screaming about how he was going to kill them just the way he chopped up those
other kids and hung them up on the bridge for everyone to see –
Well,
you get the picture.
The
Bunny Man tale features several favored horror tropes: teens,
a Lovers Lane at midnight, an axe, the insane asylum. Some versions of the
story add “accounts” of murdered children and “reports” of skinned animals to
the tale.
Is there any factual basis to the Bunny Man legend? I decided I needed facts, so I
turned to an expert account: “The Bunnyman Unmasked: Real life origins of an Urban Legend” by Brian A. Conley, Historian-Archivist with Fairfax County
Public Libraries. When reading this account of a dogged historian’s search for
the truth behind the Bunny Man story, what fascinated me most was the way the
story changed and grew more ornate, gory, and supernatural. The story
grew from minor but real events to the point that the story was filmed for a
ghost-busting television show in the 90s and was made into two indie horror
films that were apparently as bad as you think they’d be. The versions of the
story multiplied like, well, you know.
What
I had been calling an Urban Legend is actually referred to in academic circles
as an Urban Belief Tale. Urban Belief Tales like The Bunny Man take place in an
urban setting and have elements that have appeared in print as truth. Some scholars add that these
tales reflect community morals and concerns, thus acting as cautionary tales
for teens who would frequent Lovers Lanes. We all know how well they work.
So,
was there ever really a Bunny Man?
Conley
found police reports in the Washington
Post of a man with an axe threatening developers who were building the huge
tract neighborhoods that sprang up around Washington, DC in the 1970s. Someone
calling himself The Axe Man called a builder to complain about construction
debris, and a few days later a man in a bunny suit was seen chopping at the
columns on a newly built house.
At
about the same time, a young Navy cadet was parked with his date on a secluded
Lovers Lane near the bridge when they were accosted by a man who told them they were
trespassing. As they drove away, the man threw an axe through the car window.
The axe element, plus the young woman’s description of the man’s white headgear
– she thought it looked like bunny ears - were the link in the two tales. Thus
were planted the seeds of the Bunny Man Legend, which today is a gothic horror
tale complete with children and/or teen sweethearts strung up from the railroad
bridge by an axe murdering bunny-suited
man/extraterrestrial/psychopath/cannibal/zombie (take your pick) with
supernatural powers.
In
my short story, “Disco Donna,” I invented my own urban legend, the story of
Disco Donna, a wild high school girl too hot to care about her bad reputation. The
story goes that Donna was strangled in her bed on Halloween night, her body
found the next morning clutching a single red rose. The details – some say the
murderer was the high school football captain, some say it was an escapee from
a psychiatric hospital one town over – change depending on who tells the story.
The elements of a sexually active teen, roses, and Halloween night are typical
embroideries to these campfire stories.
What’s
your favorite urban – or suburban - legend?
PS
Readers of fellow blogger Gloria Alden’s Bigfoot post will be relieved to hear
that the Urban Legend of the Capture of Bigfoot by a man claiming he lured the
creature with $200 worth of ribs has been debunked by Snopes. No surprise for
those of us at WWK. We all know from Gloria’s blog that the real Bigfoot can
only be lured with pizza.
