The wail of the Banshee on dark and still nights can chill the bones of the bravest man. It’s a cry of despair and anguish, of a revenge seeking woman. It is a cry that one may hear not only in Ireland but on any fog covered moonlight river bank in Southwest Texas, it is the cry of Lalorna.
It is perhaps the oldest and most widespread legend in Texas. Her ghostly figure has been seen searching the shores and riverbanks from Waco to El Paso, from Laredo to Victoria. In San Antonio and Austin she appears as a shapely young woman with the face and maniacal laugh of a donkey.
The story of Lalorna begins many years ago with a pretty senorita born to a lower class family. Her beauty did not go unnoticed and she attracted the eye of a wealthy young nobleman. They fell deeply in love but his family would have nothing to do with the relationship forcing them to see each other in secret.
She became his mistress and they were blessed with three children. Everything seemed to be going wonderfully until he suddenly stopped coming to see her. Frustrated by his disappearance she went to see him, only to be sent away by his family. A few days later she found out, to her dismay, that he had married another.
In a horrible fit of rage she threw their children into the river, erasing the love that was between the two of them as they quickly drowned. She thought that she could erase the memory of him by destroying the bond they had created in the children. The guilt and pain of losing all that she had held most dear drove her to the point of madness and in the depths of depression she threw herself into the same river where she had murdered her children.
Her pain and guilt combined with her crime and condemned her to walk the afterlife in search of the ones she killed. On moonlit nights she roams bodies of water across Texas searching for her lost children and the man who drove her, in her mind, to it. Her low moans and wails have lead to her nickname, the weeping woman. To some she appears as a lonely sad figure, to others a horrible demonic figure out for revenge.
The story is everywhere across Texas and she roams the banks of the San Antonio River near Goliad and overlooks Lake Waco from a small cliff that some say is where she cast her children from. In San Antonio she is condemned to walk the night with the figure of an attractive young woman and the head of a donkey.
She has been sighted near a bench on the corner of Blanco and Lockhill Selma roads and a bridge on the south tip of Applewhite Road off Zarzamora. Her hideous donkey face has surprised more than a couple of teenagers making out by Espada Park on Old Mission Trail. Some have reported her running alongside their car spewing a hideous half human, half donkey laugh while the car is reaching speeds of fifty to sixty miles per hour.