The passenger on the Penang Bridge

One thing about large buildings and tall bridges is the tragic fact that they attract those who want to end their lives. The Penang Bridge has seen its fair share of suicide jumpers. One wonders sometimes, if he ghosts of those who die there remain to haunt the bridge…

I am a retired businessman living in Butterworth. I have lived in this part of Malaysia all my life. I love history and I am an ardent supporter of moves to keep Georgetown’s architectural heritage on track. That is an uphill battle, given the greed of governments and business.

I am also an amateur historian and have written a few articles for local magazines on the history of Penang.  Some of the stories I have heard involve mysterious happenings. Even the Penang Bridge, a relatively new structure, has its stories, and not all of them are nice. This particular one concerns ghosts.

As you will well know, the Penang Bridge is, at least for the time being, the longest bridge in Asia. It connects the island of Penang with mainland Peninsula Malaysia. Completed in 1985, seven workers were killed in its construction. Many believe that their ghosts still haunt the bridge.

The bridge is popular among anglers. Some anglers claimed to have caught fish with tiny human heads. Some also claimed to have caught an actual human head. I have never seen the proof, but fishermen can be a superstitious lot, and I speak to them a lot and count some of them as my friends!

But my story is about those who don’t use the bridge as a fishing pier. It is about drivers! Some drivers who have used the bridge late at night claim to have seen a lady in white trying to catch a ride from the middle of the bridge, which is over thirteen kilometres long – thirteen and a half to be precise. Some well-meaning drivers have stopped to help her, and there are horrible stories about the fate of those good Samaritans.

One of my friends claims that, one morning, a speeding car overtook him. He looked to see who the reckless driver was, and was shocked to see that the driver was headless! He swears by his story, but then we Malaysians can be prone to fantasy.

But this story I can verify. A friend of mine in the police force told me about it. It was also in the papers.

A middle-aged woman was driving across the bridge. Her mother sat in the passenger seat beside her. They were on their way home to Georgetown from Butterworth after having enjoyed dinner at a relative’s home, something they did each week.

That particular night seemed no different from normal. They had driven across the bridge countless times and nothing untoward had ever occurred. Even though it was near midnight, many cars were still using the bridge.

She was a careful driver. She regularly checked both the rear-view mirror and the speedometer. Everything seemed fine. She was feeling a little tired, but she and her mother had enjoyed a lovely evening. Her mother dozed off in the passenger’s seat. She too was tired after the day’s outing.

As she approached the middle of the bridge, she checked the rear view mirror when something odd caught her attention. She was shocked to see her mother sitting in the back seat. How could that be possible? Her mother was sitting right beside her on the front passenger’s seat. She shook her head and decided that she was seeing things. The idea that she had seen a ghost never even crossed her mind.

She took another look in the rear-view mirror. She had been correct the first time. Her mother was definitely there. But how could that be possible? Her mother was sitting beside her!

She turned to look at who was sitting in the front passenger seat. It too was her mother! Her mother was still quietly snoozing by her side.

At least she seemed to be quiet. Too quiet. She seemed oddly pale. Was she sick? She knew something was wrong.

‘Mum! Mum!’ she called out, and shook her by the arm. ‘Are you alright?’

Her mother did not reply. Alarmed, she looked for a place to stop. She noticed an emergency stopping lane just ahead and pulled over.  She needed to help her mother. She had forgotten about the apparition she had seen in the rear vision mirror. She was more worried about her mother.

She stopped the car. Suddenly, her mother woke with a start. She wrenched open the door and got out of the car. She ran to the railing of the bridge. Her daughter watched her in alarm. She undid her seat belt and was about to open the door to rush to her mother and find out what was wrong, when her mother quickly climbed the railing and jumped off.

She screamed and ran to look over, but it was dark and she could see nothing. She flagged down a passing car.

‘Please help me,’ she screamed. ‘My mother has just jumped off the bridge!’

‘There is an emergency phone here,’ said the driver. ‘I’ll call for help.’

While he made the call, the woman turned back to her car.

‘There is another passenger in the back seat,’ she cried. ‘She has gone too!’

She opened the rear door of the car. Certainly, no one was sitting there. It was dark, but she could see something dark on the seat. She leaned forward and touched it. The seat was wet. She stood up and walked to stand under a light on the side of the bridge.

‘What is that on your fingers?’ asked the driver who came back from making his call to the emergency staff.

She held out her hand to him. They both looked in horror.

‘It looks like blood!’ she said. The man took a step backwards.

‘So who was in the back seat?’ he asked.

‘Honestly, I have no idea,’ she said. ‘When we left Butterworth, my mother and I were alone in the car. The only time we stopped was at the tollgates. No one got on. Why would we pick up a hitchhiker at this tome of night?’

‘But why would your mother suddenly jump out of the car and climb the railing?’ asked the man.

The woman broke down and wept. She waked over to the railing and looked down into the darkness at the seething mass of the seawaters below the bridge. She grabbed the railing. She recoiled. This was where her mother had climbed the railings.  It too was wet and slimy.

She recoiled and fell into a dead faint.

When the emergency crews arrived, they made her comfortable until she regained her senses. The ambulance arrived as did the police, but she was on no mood to talk.

The police and the men from the bridge authority shone searchlights into the water, but there was no sign of her mother.

‘What happened?’ they asked the man who had stopped to help her.

‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘I was just driving along and I saw this hysterical, weeping woman on the side of the bridge ere. I stopped to see if everything was alright.’

‘And did she say anything?’ asked the police.

‘She talked about her mother jumping out of the car and climbing the railings over there,’ he said. ‘And she found some blood on the back seat of her car, and on the railings over there.’

‘Really?’ asked the policeman.

He walked over to the car and checked out the back seat. It was clean and dry.

‘And you said there was blood on the railings?’ he asked again.

The man nodded mutely and pointed to here the woman had touched the railings.

‘Nothing,’ said the policeman. ‘This is strange.’

‘But it is not unusual,’ said one of the emergency crew. ’This has happened before.  It is always the same story.’

‘I think the white lady has struck again,’ said the policeman and the emergency man nodded.

‘We will take her home,’ said the policeman.

‘Will you investigate?’ asked the man who stopped to help.

‘We will,’ said the policeman, ‘but we know that we will find nothing. It happens so often now, we almost know before we arrive what we will find.’

‘I hope the lady is fine,’ said the man.

She was.

Two days later, some fishermen found her mother’s body washed up on the beach of Pulau Jerejak to the south of the bridge.

She rarely travels across the bridge now. If she wants to visit her relatives, either they come to her, or she takes the ferry.

As do I!