Back in high school, I was returning from a party in the middle of the night. There had been hot summer thunderstorm earlier in the day, leaving a thick evening fog all over town. My car was your typical piece of shit high school student car with a busted headlight and only an AM/FM radio that could only tune in three stations. My route home took me down a one lane gravel road surrounded by thick woods on either side. The road was a local celebrity with more haunted tales attached to it than a Poe anthology. Witches, demons, slaughtered hitchhikers, and girl scout troupes never to be heard from again- it seemed that they all congregated on this twisted unpaved thoroughfare.
As my one headlight attempted to cut through the thick haze and illuminate one half of the road, my mind could not help but wonder what twisted evil was waiting for me on the other side of the fog. I turned up the radio to drown out those thoughts, but it was that moment that some late-night radio DJ decided to play “The End” by The Doors. That sick son of a bitch!
No matter where you live in America, your town probably has this same road. This road is older than the town and was probably laid down by the devil, himself. It changes names from town to town and usually has a few nicknames attached to it as well. You’d have no problem driving it during the day, but would drive twenty miles out of your way to avoid driving down it at night.
While driving cross country one summer, I found myself in Nebraska City, Nebraska. Enjoying a midnight breakfast at a local diner, I got to talking with the waitress who asked me what I did in Los Angeles. Most of the time, I usually answer with “broom salesman”, but that night I decided to mention that I work in horror. Almost immediately she broke into a local tale about the Seven Sisters Road. Already fascinated by “evil roads”, I was instantly hooked and wanted to know more.
The Seven Sisters Road sits just a few miles south of Nebraska City and is referred to as L Street on all the maps. According to legend, back in the early 1900s a young man was living with his parents and seven sisters. After a heated argument with his family he left home, but did not go far. He waited in the woods for his parents to leave. Once they were gone, the still enraged young man returned. Finding his sisters home alone, he led them out one by one to separate trees and hung each one until they were all dead.
The waitress then said that when they built the road, years later, they had to chop down seven trees all in a perfect row to allow for the road. To this day people report hearing screams late at night. Some even say that their lights always dim as they drive down that road only to brighten up once they turn off it.
That night, I decided to take a little detour from the highway and drive a little farther south out of Nebraska City. Keeping an eye on my phone, I watched as L Street crept up closer. At that moment, and for reasons I can’t explain, I decided to turn on the radio. Almost immediately I was greeted by the voice of Jim Morrison melodically singing about his only friend “the end”. Instantly flashing back to high school, I decided to drive past the Seven Sisters Road and let my phone reroute me back to the highway. Perhaps some roads are better traversed in daytime, and some songs should never be played at night.