11 Allegedly Haunted or Cursed Graves Around the U.S. 

iStock.com/MmeEmil
iStock.com/MmeEmil

Despite their macabre associations, graveyards aren't usually ground zero when it comes to reported hauntings—maybe because the connection is just too obvious. Nevertheless, there are a collection of strange graves around the country that have more than their fair share of legends, often nourished by disease epidemics and unusual inscriptions. Several of them are favorite spots for Halloween excursions, although if you visit, remember to respect the dead no matter how creepy their grave. Better yet, make yourself a seasonal beverage and enjoy these spooky tales from the comfort of your own home. You're much less likely to get cursed.

1. THE WEEPING WOMAN // CALIFORNIA

The Adelaida Cemetery in Paso Robles is a favorite haunt for local ghost-hunters, who describe strange mists, glowing scarlet eyes, and the sounds of footsteps following them around the graveyard. But the most persistent legend among the moss-draped trees relates to Charlotte M. Sitton, supposedly a Mennonite woman whose children both died in a diphtheria epidemic. A distraught Sitton ended her own life, according to some accounts by hanging herself in the local school. Today she's said to appear every Friday evening between 10 and 11:30 p.m. to lay flowers at her childrens' grave, and then to wander among the trees and headstones in a white dress, weeping.

2. THE VAMPIRE'S GRAVE // COLORADO

Perhaps it's not surprising that a grave with "born in Transylvania" etched on the stone would invite vampire comparisons, but the people of Lafayette have really gone all-out. Local legends say that a tree growing over the grave sprung from the stake that killed the vampire inside, and that the red rosebushes nearby are his bloody fingernails still growing after death. There are also reports of a tall, slender man in a dark coat with black hair and long fingernails who sometimes sits on the tombstone, and a local police chief said he once found a doll stuck with pins through its heart laying on top of the grave. It's not clear what the man who bought the plot—Fodor Glava, a miner who died in 1918—would have thought of all the stories, especially since he might not have actually been buried there. Nevertheless, his crudely etched tombstone (its evident haste perhaps the result of the 1918 flu epidemic) has become a popular place to take pictures on Halloween.

3. MIDNIGHT MARY // CONNECTICUT

The Evergreen Cemetery in New Haven is home to another grave with an unusual—and far more troubling—inscription: the phrase "The people shall be troubled at midnight and pass away" ring the top half of Mary E. Hart's grave. Hart reportedly died under unusual circumstances in 1872, and her quick death combined with her odd tombstone have given rise to some strange legends. It's said that Hart was a witch and that the inscription on her grave is a curse, and that if you visit her final resting place at midnight, she'll rise from the grave and make sure you die a horrible death. If you strike her grave at any time, you'll die that night at midnight. (Killjoy myth-busters like to point out that the line is actually a Bible verse, from Job 34:20.)

4. THE UNDEAD CRYPT-KEEPER // NEW YORK

In the bucolic West Edmeston cemetery off Route 8 near the Unadilla River stands an austere mausoleum in honor of one Eunice Welch. There was nothing unusual about Eunice's death—she was in her seventies when she died in 1922 of natural causes—but in the decades since, a legend has arisen of an undead crypt-keeper living inside her mausoleum. Supposedly, if you knock on the door, you'll soon hear a rustling from inside the brick, and after a few moments your knock will be returned. There are even reports of a voice hissing "Leave me, leave me, go!" from inside. By some accounts, the mausoleum is a former winter storage space where bodies were kept before the spring thaw—when it was too cold to dig graves—so it's possible that whoever is haunting the crypt today has nothing to do with Welch herself. In fact, her actual grave is located in another part of the cemetery.

5. MARY THE WITCH // NEW JERSEY

One of the oldest graveyards in New Jersey, Piscatawaytown Burial Ground is steeped in Revolutionary War history. Its oldest tombstone, from 1693, rests above a pair of brothers who died after eating poisonous mushrooms [PDF]. In 1731 the burial ground became the final home of one Mary Moore, a local woman who was allegedly a witch—or at least a woman who grew strange plants in her yard, made animals do strange things, and dressed oddly. Today, it's said that if you walk around Mary's grave three times at night and spit, her spirit will appear to you. However, finding the grave might be tricky; two boys are said to have stolen the tombstone decades ago, and, being cursed by Mary, died soon afterward, with the tombstone either being smashed to pieces or falling into a sewer.

6. THE CURSE OF THE COLONEL // MAINE

The gray stone tomb of Bucksport town founder Colonel Jonathan Buck looks ordinary enough, except for a rather suspicious-looking stain. The mark resembles a person's lower leg and foot, and is said to have come about after Buck burned a witch, whose leg then rolled out of the fire. Seeing his mother's charred appendage, the witch's deformed son allegedly shouted "Your tomb shall bear the mark of a witch's foot for all eternity!" According to Roadside America, the fact that Buck didn't have the authority to be burning any witches hasn't stopped the grave from becoming a bonafide tourist stop, complete with a wheelchair-friendly ramp leading up to the site and its image emblazoned on local postcards. Supposedly, Buck's heirs have repeatedly tried cleaning the grave, but the stain always comes back … clear evidence of a curse, or perhaps a particularly stubborn crack that lets in the rain.

7. BLACK AGNES // VERMONT

John Hubbard was a Montpelier businessman who could reportedly be stingy with his money, but he apparently wasn't too cheap to skimp on his tombstone. He left enough funds for a haunting copper sculpture near his grave that's become known as "Black Agnes." Local legends tell of its eyes glowing red at night, of piercing screams being heard nearby, and of a horrible fate that will befall anyone who dares sit in its lap: certain death within seven days. However, despite the moniker and a feminine-looking face, the statue is actually of a man—or at least an androgynous being. The sculpture is titled Thanatos, Greek for "death."

8. LEGEND OF THE VANDERBILT TOMB // NEW YORK

Cornelius Vanderbilt, one of the richest Americans of the 19th century (and indeed all of history), is interred in a three-story tomb on the bottom of Todt Hill in Moravian Cemetery, Staten Island. His elaborate tomb—a replica of a Romanesque church in France—is off-limits to the public, but there are reports of a strange light in the shape of a female figure, allegedly connected to the spirit a woman who died when a heavy iron door nearby fell on her. There are also accounts of a man in a gray suit (Cornelius himself?) chasing away trespassers, and—perhaps strangest of all—those who swear that pictures of the tomb tend to either be missing their human subjects or contain an extra figure who wasn't there when the photo was taken.

9. SMILEY'S GHOST // TEXAS

A single plot in the Mills cemetery in Garland, Texas, is home to five members of the Smiley family, who all died on the same day—allegedly because of a murder-suicide. Rumor has it that if you lie down on the grave at midnight (especially at midnight on Halloween), you'll find it very difficult to rise back up, as the ghost of old man Smiley tries to pull you down, hoping to add one more member to the family's eternal resting place.

10. THE GREEN GLOW // NEW YORK

The abandoned Forest Park Cemetery (also known as Pinewoods Cemetery) near Troy is known for several urban legends. One of the strangest concerns local taxi drivers, who say they pick up fares nearby asking to go home, only to have the passenger mysteriously vanish when they drive by the cemetery. Others tell of a decapitated angel statue that bleeds from its neck—although the effect may be attributed to a certain kind of moss. But one of the eeriest parts of the grounds is a dilapidated, roofless mausoleum said to be home to a green, glowing light about the size of a half-dollar, right where the coffins used to be located.

11. THE BLEEDING HEADSTONE // PENNSYLVANIA

The Union Cemetery in Millheim has one of the nation's weirder headstones: It's said to bleed, as if the letters were cut into flesh instead of stone. The grave belongs to 19th-century local William Musser, whose descendants tried repeatedly to replace the tombstone, but the blood kept coming back until they added an iron plate on top. Supposedly, a knife has also appeared on the tombstone, because Musser was a murderer (although by all accounts he was instead a peaceful local businessman).

BONUS: THE BLACK ANGEL // IOWA

It's not a specific grave, but the Black Angel statue that stands near the edge of Fairview Cemetery in Council Bluffs, Iowa, has accrued a collection of ominous legends. It's said to come to life after sundown and fly around the graves, to shoot fire from its eyes, to make children disappear, and to have turned black because of its inherent evil (or the evil of those buried nearby).

Can You Pick Out the Weird Law That's Totally Real?

In 1959, the U.S. Postal Service Attempted to Deliver Mail via Missile

Smithsonian National Postal Museum
Smithsonian National Postal Museum

In the late 1950s, the future was up in the air. The space race was just getting started, and the U.S. military was working on missiles that could reach around the world—and even to the Moon. The U.S. government didn’t just see new flight capabilities as military priorities, though. It also thought they could be used to carry mail, as we recently learned from Today I Found Out. Yes, the Postal Service once tried sending letters by missile mail.

In June 1959, the U.S. Navy sent 3000 letters on a guided missile toward a naval auxiliary air station in Mayport, Florida. Launched from the USS Barbero, a submarine that was stationed 100 miles off the U.S. coast in international waters, the 36-foot Regulus I missile made it to Mayport in 22 minutes. Held in two metal containers in what was supposed to be the missile’s warhead chamber, the letters on board were copies of a letter from Postmaster General Arthur Summerfield to then-President Eisenhower, Vice President Richard Nixon, individual representatives of Congress, members of the Supreme Court, the crew of the Barbero, and more. The letters carried regular mail stamps—“not even air mail,” as the AP story that day noted.

The Postal Service heralded it as the first successful delivery of mail by missile. (There had been previous attempts, like a thwarted 1936 delivery on a rocket-powered plane across a lake between New York and New Jersey [PDF]. Despite several attempts, that one never fully made a successful delivery.) But “delivery” was a bit of an overstatement: Most of those letters had to be sent by regular mail service at a post office in nearby Jacksonville, since the 3000 recipients weren’t sitting around at a naval base in Florida waiting for their letter.

An envelope that reads 'First Official Missile Mail'
Smithsonian National Postal Museum

“Now that we know we can do it,” Summerfield told the press, “we plan a series of discussions to determine the practical extent to which the method can be used and under what conditions.” It never did become practical, as we now know. Summerfield’s successor, J. Edward Day, killed the program, pointing out that the letters sent from the USS Barbero ended up taking some eight days to reach their intended recipients. Not exactly rocket speed.

Even if missile mail wasn't a financially or logistically feasible way to send the mail on a regular basis, the test likely proved worthwhile just for the bragging rights. “Ostensibly an experiment in communication transportation,” Nancy A. Pope writes on the National Postal Museum’s blog, “the Regulus’ mail flight sent a subtle signal that in the midst of the Cold War, the U.S. military was capable of such accuracy in missile flight that it could be considered for use by the post office.”

And it wasn’t so strange that the USPS was trying out newfangled technology in its quest to get mail across the country as fast as possible. As the rail industry declined, it was becoming more expensive and less efficient to send mail by train. Throughout the early 20th century, the U.S. Postal Service looked into a number of alternatives, including post office buses that would travel from town to town sorting mail along the way, intercity helicopter mail, and other ideas that harnessed ways of delivering mail that would have been unthinkable a few decades before. But in the end, improving roads to make it easier to send trucks around the country proved a better financial plan than using guided military missiles.

[h/t Today I Found Out]

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