By John Reddin
The truck pulled the log
Through the thick misty fog
And the "slick" on the road made it greasy
He had heard of this bend
From a truck driving friend
And he knew that it wouldn't be easy
He was travelling slow
And with yesterday's snow
On the mountain he saw something "eary"
What he saw wasn't clear
But it filled him with fear
And his sanity he had to query
Fifty years to the day,
Starts the story they say
Of the girl who was stranded for hours
In the cold and the snow
And with no place to go
Almost froze in the sleet and the showers
Gentle Bill was the one
Who had carried her home
So she told all the towns-folk next day
He had lifted her up
From her over-turned truck
And had carried her all of the way
"How can that be?" they said
"Poor old Billy is dead.
He was killed up at old Miller's pass"
"It was three day's ago
He was lost in the snow
And was hit by a truck-load of glass"
So the legend was born
And to treat it with scorn
Was to laugh in the face of a hero
Twenty people have cried
For they all should have died
On the bend where their chances were zero
They say old Bill was there
With his hands in the air
Warning of a shut road up ahead
As they managed to slow
They could see in the snow
A bad accident, someone was dead.
Now our truck driver friend
Coming up to the bend
Giving air brakes a mighty assist
Saw the ghost of a man
Who was waving his hand
Warning that there was something amiss
Through the rain and the sleet
He could see on the street
That an accident had just occurred
As he came to a stop
His jaw started to drop
And the accident scene was all blurred
Then the mist rolled away
And to this very day
He swears that the sight he had seen
Was of "Gentle" Bill Hay
As his saviour that day,
There were rocks where the road should have been
So if you and a friend
Ever go near the bend
On the top road of old Miller's pass
Be aware of the day
That old "Gentle" Bill Hay
Lost his life in a truckload of glass.
