THE GHOST OF VALLECITO
Anonymous

On the west side of the Valley 
  Just Beneath the Laguna Mountain rim 
  Stands the old Vallecito Stage Station 
  Restored from a past that's growing dim. 

  There's a sign out on the highway 
  Asking travelers to stop and see 
  But I usually just drove on by, 
  For it was of little interest to me. 

  But then one evening I was getting tired 
  And just shortly after dark 
  I pulled up in there for a breath of fresh air 
  And to stretch my legs in the park. 

  But there were people there 
  In their campers and motor homes and tents. 
  So, off to the east of the station on my little
  stroll I went. 

  The night was almost bright as day 
  With a full moon on the rise. 
  Quiet to the ear and the air so clear 
  You could count every star in the skies. 

  I found myself by a little grave yard. 
  Only three graves that I could see. 

  Just three mounds of stone on that hill alone. 

  It was all such a mystery to me. 

  And it was just then that I heard it, 
  A faintly familiar sound 
  Of tug chains clanking and leather harness
  creaking 
  And horses hooves upon the ground. 

  As I strained my eyes in the moonlight 
  Through the mesquite and brushy sage 
  I saw a six horse team coming up the hill 

  Pulling a Concord stage. 

  The driver and the shotgun guard 
  Sat stately on the box 
  And sparks flew from the horses hooves 
  As iron shoes would strike the rocks. 

  They roared up to that station 
  As I stood rooted to the ground. 

  With the driver screaming, "Whoa, you fools!" 
  And the guard came leaping down. 

  As he opened up that old coach door, 
  There in a shimmering light 
  I saw a vision of loveliness 
  Step out into the night. 

She was dressed in a wedding gown 
All made of satin and lace 
And a beautiful bridal veil of white 
Partially covered her face. 

And as she entered that station 
She made not a sound 
Not a footfall, not a word she spoke. 
She seemed to float above the ground. 

Then the guard climbed back aboard the stage 
And the driver whipped up the team. 

I don't lie, but I swear I heard her cry 

"Don't leave me here!" she screamed. 

So I raced around the station 
To hail the stagecoach back. 
But on this night so clear it had disappeared. 
Not a sound, not even a track. 

The people there thought I'd gone crazy. 
They said, "Why there's been nobody here." 
 But then the ranger spoke and said, "you're wrong. 
 It's not the first time she's appeared." 

Then he told the story 
Of how a hundred years ago 
A bashful bride took a stage coach ride 
To be married in Los Angeles you know. 

He told how she took a fever on the desert 
And died right here the next night. 
And that girl so brave, lies in that center grave 
Dressed in her wedding gown of white. 

And there's people still, say she walks this hill 
Ever since that night she died 
Never to know a husband 
But forever be a blushing bride. 

So if you ever stop at this old station 
On a moonlit night so clear 
And you walk down by the graveyard 
And strange things you see and hear 

You'll know it's not to worry 
For this apparition will come and go. 

But you will never forget the night you met 
THE GHOST OF VALLECITO.