Beyond The Bridgewater Triangle With Kristen Evans

In April of 1942, a freak tornado dropped into the town of Swansea, causing almost NO damage. Affecting only a pavilion roof in its wake, what it did with the roof is nothing short of BIZARRE. The short- lived and weak stamina tornado was reported to have path of not more than 300 yards.  The five-ton wooden roof--measuring 65 x 20 feet--was carried "light as a feather high above the tree tops for 450 feet and then gently deposited intact..." ON IT'S OWNER"S LAWN! Witnesses claimed to have seen the wooden roof lifted vertically off the pavilion about 100 feet in the air before it "sailed" over a pasture. "It seemed to be held in air, they said, by an inverted cone of dust." The owner of the pavilion witnessed the entire event. She claimed the roof "sailed over the pasture travelling 200 feet, then circled back and passed over the roof of their house and came to rest on the lawn." "Witnesses said the wooden roof was lifted al

Many of the "otherworldly" encounters people experience in Bridgewater Triangle happen on dark, wooded country roads. My very unique first experience of the Bridgewater Triangle happened on the midnight-darkened roads of Bridgewater, Middleboro and Lakeville. I knew nothing about the Bridgewater Triangle at the time. It was 1989. I was living in Hanson and a new friend from Bridgewater and I went to movies in Brockton. I dropped her off around 11:45 and she gave me directions to the only gas station that was open, as I had just realized I was on empty. After driving for about 25 minutes I knew I was lost. Dreadfully lost. And was about to run out of gas at any second. I had no idea where I was, let alone where the gas station was. It was just one dark street after another. I looked at the gas gauge and now I was below empty. My heart was pounding and fear started seizing me. No payphones in sight. In the middle of nowhere. That is where my car was going to run out of g

The following is excerpted from "The History of Raynham," By Patrice White MASSASOIT WAS KING PHILIP'S DAD; WHEN HE DIED, THE WHITE MEN WERE SAD Massasoit, sachem of the Wampanoags, had established peaceful relations with the white men, and when he died, Massasoit' s sons Alexander (Indian name, Wamsutta) and Philip (Indian name Metacom or Pometacom) pledged to keep the peace. This was not easy, however, as the English and the Indians struggled for survival and land. At times Philip and his men felt humiliated by the English. The primary causes of the bloody conflict known asKing Philip's War go far back of the  outbreak of hostilities in 1675. It was undoubtedly inevitable, sooner or later. When Philip became sachem of the Wampanoags in 1662, it became evident that he was not likely to maintain the friendly relations with the English - so firmly established by his father. He was jealous of the progress of the settlers in occupation of the lands they

This is a photo of an actual grave of one of the Bridgewater Triangle's many murder victims. It was late on a cold Monday night in February, 2010 at the Bridgewater police station. And here in this quiet New England town, the scene looked more like a page out of a Stephen King novel than a Monday night at a small town police station. A man's face was smeared with blood, as were his hands. His clothes were drenched a deep crimson. "Do you need medical attention?" The police officers asked him. "No." The man answered quietly. "The blood is not mine." Earlier that night, 41-year old Brian Bellamy smashed a hammer through a window of his estranged wife's parents home and headed up the stairs possessed with rage. Bellamy's two year-old son was sleeping next to his wife, but that did not deter him from his evil and dastardly deed. Bellamy started bludgeoning his wife with the hammer. Hard, violent blows to her face and neck.

 When the colonists explored the area south and west of Plimouth Colony, they found many abandoned Wampanoag villages. Much of the land around these ghostly vacant villages was littered with the skulls and bones of Wampanoag people who died from a devastating smallpox invasion brought to New England in 1617 by Captain John Smith. By the time the mayflower landed, the numbers of natives had been reduced to a "manageable" number. ​  A treaty of peace between the survivors of the Wampanoag tribe and Plimouth Colony lasted forty years. During that time, the innocence of the Wampanoag was lost when their land was taken from them under the guise of lies and misconception on the colonists' part. The first example of this, was the deed to Bridgewater, signed by Massasoit in 1649 for the equivalent of $35 in today's standards. The great chief thought he was merely granting permission for the colonists to use the very fertile 70 square miles sold unde

Massachusetts lays claim as being the first state to document a sea serpent sighting. An Englishman by the name of Josselyn witnessed a creature “coiled like a cable upon a rock in Cape Ann“ in 1639. In August of 1817, the same area would be spotlighted when “The Gloucester Sea Serpent” was first sighted by local fisherman. The great creature was seen by locals almost every day that month. Books such as "Gloucester's Sea Serpent" by Wayne Soinim and “The Great New England Sea Serpent” by J.P. O’Neill chronicle the mass sighting. The subject of the Gloucester Sea Serpent was even the featured on an episode of Animal Planet’s “The Lost Tapes” in 2008. And in that same year, The Museum of Science held an exhibit about the legend.  Depiction of the Great Sea Monster of Gloucester.  While legends of sea monsters in the North Shore have been spotlighted in the media for years, the sea serpents of the South Shore have kept their secret locked up in the memor

  Bob Waterman's unique brand of advertising stands on the side of the road off of Route 105 in Halifax.  Not paranormal--but far from normal--is a freaky little farm tucked away on Old Summit Street in Halifax, right off of haunted route 105. There are signs everywhere leading the way. They want you to come. The signs pointing to the farm are adorned with eye catching decorations like plastic snowmen and Santa Clauses. You follow the weathered signs and you arrive at what looks to be at first glance a place that's half Pee Wee's Playhouse and half house of horrors.      Dirty stuffed animals and dolls dangle by their necks from trees. Old spring rocking horses are everywhere. You ask yourself, what the hell is this place?   You feel like you are trespassing into the mind of a madman. You suddenly get the feeling you shouldn't be here. That's when the cutest old man welcomes you to his farm and asks you if you would