THE MIRACLE OF BURNT BRIDGE By Jess Wilson Those of you who have never drived up or down Big Hill cannot appreciate the grandure and wonder of it. Burnt Bridge at the top of Big Hill is a "stringtown" of some twenty houses. All the land in every direction slopes and sometimes falls over high sandstone and limestone cliffs of the Pottsville escarpment into the deep valleys below. All the hillsides are covered with trees. When someone told me the name of the community, I said, "You mean Burnt Ridge?" "Nope" was the answer, "this place is called Burnt Bridge." Looking from the high ridge into the deep valleys in every direction, I asked, "Where in the world would you build a bridge up here?" The answer was, "I don*t know." However, the person I was talking with went on to tell me about a miracle that once happened at Burnt Bridge It was a dry season and the forest on the side of the ridge was on fire. Winds up the slope were carrying the fire and smoke up the mountainside until it looked like the world was on fire. All the people hurried to the little church at Burnt Bridge and began praying for rain. Lo and behold, a large cloud formed in the sky over the forest fire and it began to rain. It rained until the fire was out. It did not rain at Morrill, at the Big Hill Post Office, at Berea or at Disputanta. The only place it rained was on the forest fire. Was it a miracle, the answer to their prayers? When I heard the story, I remembered an experience that may be a scientific explanation. When Ruth and I were courting, we hiked one hot, humid day to the top of Pilot Knob. Pilot Knob is in the center of the Red Lick Valley. When you are on top of the cliff you can see Burnt Bridge ridge and the highway snaking up the Big Hill. We found that the coolest place to sit was on the edge of the tall cliff that circles Pilot Knob. A swift breeze was blowing up the side of the cliff. This thermal draft was being caused by the sun shining on the side of the cliff. The warm air rose like the draft on the side of a stove. Soon a little cloud formed in the cooler air over our heads. The cloud was about the size of the top of the knob, which must not be over an acre and a half. Then it began to rain. We were drenched. From this experience, I would say that the "miracle" was caused by the forest fire causing an up-draft of moist air that became rain when it reached the cold air above. Later, I discovered that at one time there was a gap across the ridge that was about twelve foot wide. To accommodate a road, it was bridged. Evidently, it was this "dry land" bridge that burned in that fire. The gap has been filled in so a dry land bridge is no longer necessary . Despite this legend, the highway sign now reads "BURNT RIDGE". Too bad they didn't stick to the original name, for in that name there was a legend and legends adds spice to our lives.