Once I was waiting for a train at this place, I talked with an old man who led cows from the pasture to the house, and he told a lot of interesting things about the neighborhood. Can you imagine that here was a railway bridge with a metal truss? Where you see a group of trees on the left, a small river flows and the bridge was crossing it. The old man told me a story about this bridge.
Boys from the nearest village often climbed to the very top of the bridge, and played on it while there was no train movements. Once, one of the kids either threw a stone, or just hit the metal structure, as a result one of the boys got scared and fell from the bridge and hit the stone work that strengthened the wooden supports of the bridge. He suffered serious head injuries. The rest of the boys, frightened, didn't say a word to the adults, and carried him to the bathhouse, they left him there. In the evening, when the relatives realised that he had not come home, went to his friends, and in the end they had to tell what had happened. When they came to the bathhouse, the boy had already died. It was said, that if they had immediately taken him to the doctor, then he could have been saved. And the old man still remembers the funeral of that boy.