It was a dark and stormy night as the classic intro goes, when a man who was driving the rural roads of southern Georgia to visit a friend, came upon an old innocuous looking bridge, nothing special about it, or so he thought until suddenly a large rock hit the windshield of his car smashing it and scaring the bejesus out of him, almost causing him to lose control of the car and go off the road into some famous Georgia red clay. He was going to stop, but he didn’t know what kind of nut threw the rock, or what might happen if he confronted him[?], so he kept on going, driving slowly since he couldn’t see too well because of the shatteredness (not a real word, but I like the sound of it). He kept looking in the rear view mirror in case somebody was following him, but there was nothing except the thick, black, rainy night in Georgia behind him. Eventually, he finally made it to his friend's house, where a couple of large brandies helped calm his nerves (somewhat).
After not getting much sleep from the shock of what happened, and still thinking whoever did it might have followed him somehow to do him harm, he drove his car to a repair shop the next morning to get the windshield fixed. Later on at the repair shop, (Safelite repair, Safelite replace) he was told by one of the guys who worked there that someone had jumped to their death from that bridge just a few months ago, and now a vengeful ghost takes revenge by throwing rocks at cars. The local police had even staked out the bridge and when a rock throwing incident occurred, they were immediately on the bridge, but no one was found, hence giving rise to the vengeful ghost story. The police had no explanation. Yeah, he found that out the hard way and on his way back home after a couple of days, he made sure he took a different route, and even now tenses up when going under bridges (poor guy).