Tag: cemetery

The Dead And The “C” Student Catholic

The Dead Appear In Dreams To Communicate The Needs Of Their Souls

Shortly after the burial of my mother, I tried once again to sleep. As in the prior months after her death, I would pray before bed. Just as I prayed for her soul as she was actively dying, I prayed every chance I had throughout the day, too. Only the precise instance she died, a distinct change occurred. A switch was hit. A fervor ceased. A realization that my prayers, my faith, my confidence had no bearing. I had no sway, no pull, no influence on God. I continued to pray regardless, but my conviction, my enthusiasm was no longer present.

Mom Appears

This time as I slept – and like prior dreams of Holy Souls In Purgatory; these happen just before waking- I was in my childhood home. It was as it appeared years ago, before my parents remodeled. Yet I was as I am now. Dad was there frantic, waiting for the ambulance. Mom was in another room, unseen but needed help. I stepped outside the house, for the paramedics had arrived. A team entered, I watched from the grass. I sensed that they couldn’t find her. Dad opened the door and said she’s missing; they can’t locate her. I needed to start looking. I turned to face our large property. As I ran down our small hill past our outbuildings, I seen her. She was standing at the foot of another hill leading up to our bank barn. Suddenly I was in front of her. She appeared as I remembered her in her 40’s. She had on a white short sleeve blouse and dark blue slacks. I was trying to tell her she needed to come back to the house. She needed to go to the hospital, to come inside. She shook her head. It was as though; she was bursting while shaking her hands ‘no.’ She was excited, smiling without parting her lips. I was too busy trying to coax her back, that I didn’t have the presence to ask her if she needed anything from me to help free her soul from purgatory. Then it happened. She took off running at lightning speed. Up the hill and over it. By the time I ran after her, the last glimpse I seen was her already up our neighbors’ massive hill and disappearing in their wood line. I was yelling for her as I came down our barn hill and onto our neighbor’s yard. Their yard too, was decades earlier. I looked to my right, and a woman stood a distance away in what once was a garden. She had a hoe in her hands. I did not recognize her. I asked if she seen my mom. Out of nowhere a huge gray dog was near her. I knew that I was in trouble. I sensed that this gray dog would attack me. As I turned opposite, the dog was in front of me. He leapt at me. I fell onto my back. His huge jaw on top of me coming to clamp down on my face. I instantly woke. I knew it was a visit; I missed my chance to ask her what more she needed to be released from purgatory. I also was aware that I could not pursue her. I think the dog was a hound of heaven and was making it clear that I could not enter nor chase after her.

My Sister

She died just two months after Mom. Our Priest had given her the Apostolic Blessing, which I took as a ‘get out of purgatory free card.’ Turns out it wasn’t. I prayed for her several times daily. But I was not focused on her soul’s well-being, because of the pardon. One day, three months after her death, I became somewhat concerned though. I prayed to Mother Mary, my special intercessor and asked if she was indeed, okay – just in case. And several days later a strange dream happened. I was in the basement of my childhood. So, that we are clear, this is a 225-year-old farmhouse. The basement is rocky, gray, crude and no matter how many lights are on, still it casts shadows. I was there, again as I am now. The light bulb was dangling. It was heavily shadowed, mom was there by the light, this time she looked as she had before she died. She stood by an open book resting on a stand, she gestured at the book. I approached the book, put my head down and said, ‘My poor sister!’ I stepped away and lying on the floor were dying, malnourished newborn kittens gasping for air. As I took another step, I seen what I thought was a shaggy matted feral barn cat I have. Although askew, it resembled my cat with the sandy tones, orange and black, it was eating out of a bowl. Then it did something amazing. It stood on its hind legs, but as it did so it grew to my height. It walked on two feet into the shadows. I woke. But I couldn’t make any sense out of this dream.

Does She Need Help

Unsure, I went ahead and had more Masses said for both mom and our sister. But oddly I wasn’t too worried about her. So, about three weeks later, when the nagging reminder of the dream surfaced I prayed to Mother and asked, ‘Does she need help?’ And several nights later just before waking I heard distinctly my voice asking;” Does she need help?” and a loud reply in a woman’s voice said: “She needs help.” Boy did I wake up! I prayed more, gave alms and said a rosary. I procured Masses for her. Then three months later, I had THE dream.

Confinment

I found myself inside a huge, barely lit commercial industrial like building. It stretched multiple stories high which were recessed into the darkness and shadows. On the floor level were tight aisles with rows of small, closed-door closet like spaces. I was in front of one door. It was very dark, but I could make out what was around me. In front of the door, I called out my sister’s name. From inside that closet I hear a soft, ‘Yeah.’ I opened the door, and she literally fell into my arms. I held her as she curled up in my lap. And I awoke, greatly disturbed. I started praying more, but my spark, my certainty had gone. How could I help her?

My Priest

Four months later, uncertain if my efforts had helped her or Mom, I mustered the courage to talk to our Priest. I had been debating asking his advice for months. I was still at a disbelief over the Apostolic Pardon not assuring she had bypassed purgatory. The time came for me to ask; “Is it possible that a C-Student Catholic, possibly a D-Student, could have dreams where the dead appear needing my help?” He responded: “Yes. It’s our faith that we commune with the saints. Be confident that their salvation is assured. Their suffering is a separation from God, but they will be delivered.” I asked about the Apostolic Pardon – is it not the free pass I thought? “No, it is not a get out of purgatory free pass.” I told him that she’s not in a good place. He replied: “God works out of time and space. I may have seen where she WAS, but she is not there now.”

Church “Friends”

Father went onto say that both parishes (our area has combined local churches due to a shortage of Priests) have “Friends.” It wasn’t clear to me what “Friends” were. He said, “I prefer ‘friends’ to ghosts. At both churches I’ve heard voices, noises, actually several of us have. We are aware of them. What we can do is pray for them, offer alms, rosaries, our sufferings and Masses.”

Dry Prayer

Once he said this, I had to confess that all of my confidence in prayer, ended the exact moment mom died. He nodded instantly. He called this “dry prayer.” The only way to overcome it, he said, was to “keep praying.” By continuing on with my prayers, the diffidence feeling will subside. And one month later, it has. After a few more sacrifices, I will pray and ask for an update on my sister’s level of purgatory. I’m sure I’ll receive it. But first I must try harder to help her.

Footnote: After much discernment and yes, prayer, I finally came to the realization that the “animal” was in fact my sister. I recognized the resemblance. Her shaggy mane of blondish hair, the fact that she was a little taller than me, and I knew that the “cat-like animal” was female. Thus, Mom being present, too. During this prayerful period, I was reading about a Catholic mystic. She had seen souls suffering in purgatory who were “animal-like” and then I knew without a doubt, it was my sister.

The Will – Bring Out The UGLY

Bring out your dead…and out come the wolves!

I found out the hard way; family doesn’t stick together once money – big or small is involved. All of the promises made by my siblings, their words given to me, meant nothing. They wanted their share. No matter that Dad is still alive and I’ve been taking care of my parent’s property, outbuildings, and any needs or wants prior to mom’s death. No, they “permitted” me to do these; while living their lives carefree, without thinking twice about who’s minding the store.

The Verbal Agreement

Over the decades, my older brother and sister repeatedly had told me that they both wanted me to have our childhood home. Afterall, they had families and homes of their own. They had each stressed all of the work, care, time and money that I had contributed to our parents’ lives. I of course, did this out of obedience both to God and my to parents. It is the fourth commandment.

Mom Died, Then My Sister

Once the initial shock of losing them both back-to-back, had begun to ease, Dad made an appointment with his senior attorney. I went with Dad. Not only did the will need to be totally redone, but all beneficiaries changed for life insurance policies, all titles such as house and cars needed to have a beneficiary named and a transfer upon death form completed. The same for all bank accounts, holdings, deposit boxes, etc. She wanted this done as soon as possible and gave him two weeks to execute this. Another thing the attorney stressed was the house. Unbeknownst to me, three years prior when mom and dad had their will done by this same attorney, an in-depth discussion ensued. And it revolved around me. For at that time, I had been giving mom one of my two-week paychecks. She needed it for her treatments. Her disease was rare called Pemphigoid, and her health care would not cover her care outside her network. And the specialist she needed was outside her care. At that point, she had received one thousand a month from me to cover her treatments, for the last three years. Mom had told me that she would apply this money to her ledger, and it would go against “buying out” my younger sister. For mom knew that she would not relent to my receiving the house without her due share. (I dismissed all of this. For I felt that mom and dad would live another decade or more. Why, because they had each other and I did most of the hard work. Also, my younger sister [by only a few years] had told me on several occasions that I should have the house. Thus, keeping it in the family.) Ironically, at this time period an old family friend was this attorney’s receptionist. This friend told me recently that the attorney, who rarely spoke her opinions to her staff, let everyone know how impressed she was. The fact that I helped my aging parents live their lives out in their own home, while doing all repairs and upkeep at my cost, plus helping mom survive. I won’t forget it, and neither did the attorney. I had never met her before this meeting, but she paused and said to dad that now we needed to talk about me.

How I Played A Major Role In The Will

During this time, my older sister was actively dying, though it was not immediately communicated to us. The attorney, who asked if any children were disabled, then learned of our oldest sister. She had a rare form of Alzheimer’s called Benson’s Syndrome. She would die two weeks later. Then the attorney went onto to say that the next order of business was to ensure that I get the family home. I did not yet know about the years earlier discussion with mom. Nor was I expecting a candid conversation about the ‘purchasing’ of the house from my siblings. I remained quiet. Listening to dad talk about how they all expected $50K each or $150K for the house, I became anxious. Yes, the house is worth an easy $450K, but I was told worst case scenario paying my younger sister $50K from my retirement savings. Again, when I retire, from my 401K earnings! We she asked me if I could do that, I then spoke up and said that my oldest sister and brother are foregoing their share, and I was expecting my other sister to follow suit. If she doesn’t, then mom said $50K for her. Dad said: ‘They may have said they wanted you to have it. Don’t count on it, people get funny when there’s a will.’

They Did Get Funny About Money

Almost instantaneously, my brother wanted his share, along with of course my younger sister. Once my older sister had died, then dad without hesitation, cut out her husband and son from the will. No possessions, nothing. Several trips back and forth to the attorney’s office. Many meetings with her team to sort out insurance payments, titles, transfer upon death forms. Dad was secretive about the doling out of their possessions. His closely regarded valuables, mom’s jewelry, heirlooms-were all pawns for him. One week this went to my brother, the next week, no. By cutting out my older sister, now everything was split three ways. Long ago it was decided by my parents to go by the taxes only, to keep the house purchase by me affordable. So the sum I needed to pay for each share? $66,667.00. You read that right…

Leverage

After receiving several nasty calls from my brother stating (without prompt or provocation) that he never said he was going to give his share to me. Just for him to do an about face here and there, I wasn’t sure who to trust. My younger sister couldn’t wait to shout: “I’m not getting screwed out of my inheritance!” That cemented it. I had to pay her. Meanwhile my deceased sister’s husband wanted to vouch for me. Her knew my sister had told him that she wanted to forgo her share for me. My cousin, second that. Word spread and my extended family learned of the drama over the will. Now, the attorney wanted a meeting to draw up a family agreement.

The Family Meeting

You could feel the chill. No one looked each other in the eyes. And as per usual, I had to pick my brother up and take him to the meeting. For years now, this had become a routine. But if he were to be a Judas to me – he can get his own ride! Dad said no. He claimed my brother was going to keep his word to me, though reluctantly. I had heatedly told dad the night before, if I was to be expected to pay out $134K, I might as well go to our nearest city. I could get two homes for that! No joke. I told him I’d move out and let my younger sister take care of him. For mom had told me at the most $50K for my sister. Thinking, for he knew the consequences, that he would wind up in a senior home, he became frightened. He told me later, that he called my brother and struck a bargain with him. If he kept his promise to me, dad would leave him his Model A, his tools, contracting equipment, guitar equipment and coin collection. But my brother demanded dad’s prized electric guitar, too. Dad would not relinquish the guitar, no that was dad’s leverage. Also, he proposed the $50K to my sister.

Back to the meeting, when the attorney asked if my brother wanted his share, he quietly said; “No.” Thank God. Now onto my sister. For clarification, there are seventeen barn cats on the property. I’ve taken care of them, too. Some are feral. All but one have been neutered or spayed. The oldest at that time was 17 years. She used them as collateral as leverage to get what she wanted. Extortion. It was ugly. She looked at the attorney and said, “I’ll take the $50,000 if she takes all but two of the cats to a no-kill shelter. What’s it going to be. The cats or the house?” I was not expecting such a low, manipulative, evil, disgusting, heartless blow from my own sister, who I doted on in her life. She’s sick, a bi-polar off her meds by her own admission. It was despicable. I stood up, I told her that she was not to touch those animals. I was ready to walk. I meant it. The attorney shouted for me to sit down. She said this is easy to rectify. You will pay her upon your father’s death $66,667.00. My sister smugly agreed to this.

Not Too Fast – Still Greedy

The attorney would get back to us in approximately 3 weeks, papers drawn each of us were to sign and it was written in stone. Oh, no. Three months went by, why? Because my brother and sister were bickering over the phone. My brother wanted to know why she was so greedy. They could each have received $33,000 from me. She took offense and called the attorney! She told the attorney that my brother needed his share! She stirred up more trouble. So, when I thought, I was going to sign the final papers, I was met with the question of buying my brother out for another $66.667.00! So $134K of my retirement. The answer was no. I stood up and said I’m done. She asked me to step out of the room while she spoke to dad. Later I was called in. Dad would add more of his savings to brother’s tally. This he felt, would level the shares. After we left, I let dad know that if they did not sign this agreement in the next two days, I was pulling out, moving out and I could care less. I meant it. Oh, they beat feet to sign it.

At What cost?

All of this to fulfill my promise to mom to keep it in the family. All this so I could leave it to my deceased sisters’ grandson. All of this nonsense so my dad could stay in his home. For I am just the curator, the steward, the target of contempt. This is a cautionary tale for you, please learn from it.

Selecting Headstones

I Was In No Hurry To See Their Names On Granite

Nor was Dad. Yes, it took 10 months to make the necessary decision to purchase their headstone markers. Bear in mind, we had to get through all of the legalities first. It not only involved making necessary calls to the likes of life insurance companies, banks, social security, doctor offices and hospitals. More time consuming was the transfer of titles; the house, the cars, the safety deposit box, plus naming new beneficiaries. Then there was the claiming of the life insurance policies, which involved a senior attorney. This cascaded into a 5 month long will revision and family agreement. The will was a drawn-out ordeal. It was horrendous and is the focus of an upcoming post.

The Time Had Come

After letting the dust of the will settle and subside, it became apparent that we must choose a headstone for mom. For any longer a wait would become disrespectful. Months ago, my brother-in-law decided that whatever we chose for mom, he would follow suit for my sister’s headstone. We had received several postcards from a local memorial company. God knows how they received our information. I had learned during the funeral process that from one funeral home to another, when pricing a traditional funeral, the final cost is consistent. One just needs to get the job done. With this mentality, I made the appointment. When the receptionist answered, she asked me a few screening questions. The first was if the marker was for the living or deceased. I had not realized that some have the foresight to plan.

Monument Appointment

Many months before Mom died, in fact she was not at risk of dying, she discussed purchasing the opening/closing of our family plots. Just two years prior, we had purchased eight plots in our church cemetery. After purchasing the opening/closing costs, she wanted to then work on a monument. She liked the idea of a bench with the family name on it. I had told her that we should do that in the Spring with my tax return. Now, choosing the headstone for her, I had let dad know of her wishes. Dad was leery that the bench would be too costly.

Monument Office Visit

At our appointment, I took note of how informal the atmosphere appeared. Our senior representative, and his colleague were both dressed very casually. No one spoke in hushed tones. Once again, as with the funeral home visit, a potential customer just walked in and inquired about a grave marker. As with that prior incident, the customer was encouraged to schedule an appointment. Once inside the office, the first order of business; choosing the stone. The stone choice determines the price. I explained that mom loved her Irish heritage, and I thought that a green stone with gold lettering would be a real tribute to her. Quickly, he shot that down. Green stones were some of the most expensive, hard to acquire and gold lettering extremely high priced. He quickly pointed to a pink stone color (their most popular price). I’ve seen that many times at our cemetery. They can keep it. I liked the next tier scheme of blue/gray/red/black mix. Dad did, too. From there he immediately went over the standard shape for a double monument. Dad had wanted a shared marker. The thickness of the marker 8 inches down to 6 inches, the width 42 inches trimmed to 36 inches and the base from 48 inches cut to 42 inches would significantly affect the pricing. Also built into the price, but provided by our cemetery, was the foundation concrete footer. This footer is poured three foot deep 18 inches wide, with the length determined by our final headstone choice. These footers are also grouped with other orders, and when enough are filled a contractor then pours the foundations. The wait is usually 4 to 6 months. Right about the same time as our stone would be finished; after our art approval and payment.

Pricing!

Being proficient on the design program, our rep quickly filled in our contact information and on a large 3-foot screen began to design some marker concepts. Initially in grays, he added Mom’s name and dates, then dads. He zoomed in and out, repositioned until he pleasantly displayed all. He explained that built into the cost, any artwork designs could be added. Since we our Catholic, I asked about a Crucifix. He had about six different renderings, but I liked the Traditional one. He effortlessly put one in the center. Knowing that mom was Irish, he also suggested a shamrock in the corner above her name. Then came the pricing $7600.00 plus tax and $1200.00 for the footer. It was then that I mentioned mom wanting a bench which would have been even higher. But lo and behold, our rep said otherwise! It actually would be much lower, with little compromise. Quickly he made a new draft, same stone, same type style, same lettering, same art but now more room to put all of the siblings first names! After he put the final touches on the new concept, he colorized it with our stone and voile! The price was $5600.00 plus tax and $1200.00

Sold

We were very pleased, especially to get what mom wanted and the price was exceptional. From there we started the concept for my sister’s stone. Though my brother-in-law was paying for hers separately, he asked that we choose it. For she is buried directly behind mom. They died 10 weeks apart. For hers, the process was much quicker, since stone, shape, thickness, type were all chosen prior. When it came to the art, I asked about a Mary image. Again, he had several, but one with her head, shoulders and praying hands with Rosary really stood out. Our rep made it work. It’s beautiful. And the cost $3900.00 plus tax and $1000.00 for the footer. My brother-in-law approved it. He scheduled his own appointment for payment. While there, he also had his name engraved on the back side. For our plots are in the shape of the Cross, so he will be buried behind my sister. All is paid for, so come Spring, footers will be poured. Shortly thereafter, their headstones will be installed, with a small blessing ceremony by our Priest.

Eternal rest grant unto them oh Lord. And let perpetually light shine upon them. May they rest in peace, amen. May their souls and all the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

We Buried Our Sister

Two months After Mom

You really do just go through the motions. I trudged through work and didn’t speak of it. At night I gathered as many photos as possible of her that I had. Prior to her death, I gave my brother-in-law the phone number of mom’s funeral director. This way, we could just do a repeat of her funeral. My sister would have liked that. In fact, just two months prior, she was with Dad and I at the funeral home while we made mom’s arrangements. The funeral director was aware of her condition. I explained to my BIL that this would make things easier. I met my BIL at the funeral home’s main location. The previous director greeted me with raised arms; “What happened?” Mom happened, and my sister rapidly declined. My BIL and I chose exactly the same casket and vault with the opposite complementary prayer card. I gave the director my copy of my sisters’ plot. Mom had the foresight two years ago to have us buy plots at our church cemetery. My BIL was going to have his niece help pick out my sisters’ burial clothes. It was hard for him to get through this, but what could I say? It was done. We just had to honor her. Once again, I had to write her obituary, and I needed to draft her eulogy. He agreed to ask the same women to read in our stead at the Mass funeral. The director excused himself while he called our priest to procure a Mass date and confirm that we could have the showing, Mass and burial and wake all in one day. He came back with two dates, the coming Friday or Saturday. I insisted on the Saturday, the 28TH. It would allow more to show, it was two days after her only son’s birthday, and it happened to be my birthday. It was perfect.

Funeral

Since Mom’s funeral was still fresh, we were accustomed to the procedures. I had made two photo boards (only one for the church parlor, the other for the Knights of Colombus Hall) and placed one in the Church. Then, I looked towards my sister’s casket. She was in her forest green dress with a white sweater. The sweater to hide her bone thin frame. Her jaw was clamped tight, only I knew it was due to her jaw being open. Her makeup was sparse, and had I known, I would have put eyeliner and mascara on her. So, I took lipstick and added color to her gaunt cheeks and color to her pale lips. One day earlier, by coincidence, my BIL’s sister knew the beautician appointed to set my sisters hair. She had attempted to lighten it blonde (because of my sister’s Alzheimer’s dementia she could not tolerate the procedure of lightening her hair) to cover the dark gray it had become. But, because of the cold storage it did not hold. And, as before, I was able to ask for a lock of her hair. I had cut a few strands in the hospital, but since the beautician trimmed her hair, now her son and husband could have some, too. Once again, her bangs were back like she used to wear it.

Visitation

Before the 10:00 A.M. opening, people started arriving. Soon I was called to stand at the head of her casket. I greeted her former classmates, parishioners, neighbors, colleagues, family and friends. Some 150 people were inline outside of the church waiting to give their condolences. I told my sister at every interval that she had done well. For I know that the dead are made to attend their funerals. They stand at the foot of their caskets. They wait for prayers. I prayed the Eternal Rest prayer and St. Gertrudes too. After some time, I looked to see out Priest standing near the foyer. I snuck up to him and asked if it was time for the Mass. At this point many more were still outside. He graciously said that we would wait until everyone was seated. One of her Catholic schoolmates mistook me for my sister, and another commented, that they, too were taken aback. Yet, another said: “She was sweet.” The funeral director assisted by my sister’s family member, a retired funeral director, helped turn her casket away from the crowd. Once turned, the director cranked the casket bottom and lowered my sister. He looked at me said; “Okay?” I nodded and he shut and locked her casket for Mass to begin. My BIL and nephew unfolded the mantle to cover her casket for Mass, and I followed the procession until taking my place in the pew.

Burial And Wake

After the Mass, easily 60 or more processed to the cemetery. Again, the brief ceremony of committing her body was performed at a holding place. For she was buried about 75 feet away right behind mom. Then as before we walked to the nearby hall for the luncheon. Easily 85 people attended as her grandchild ran around the hall playing with the toys I had brought. People mulled over her photo boards and conversed with each other, all talking about the turn out. Some had wandered over to Mom’s grave, too. Afterwards, my BIL called to talk about the amazing large turnout and that it probably helped that it was Saturday. He brought up the fact that it had spread around the church that it was my birthday, he didn’t realize. Yes, it was and it was perfect.

Whistling Past The Cemetery

True Ghost Encounters Late Night At The Cemetery!

An old friend reminded me of the fact that “the gift” runs in her family. In fact her Aunt, her two male cousins all have a “sixth sense.” Hers, deals with the discernment of spirits and communication with the dead, usually in her dreams. She recounted one of her earliest experiences. “When I was eight years old, I stayed overnight with my Aunt Carol. My Aunt also has the gift. Her house was directly across from an older cemetery, but still in use. She has two sons (both with some gifts, too) but none of us were scared of it. We were raised to respect the dead, so no thrill seeking. I stayed in her guest bedroom. Us kids went to bed around 9:00 P.M. Wee into the morning, I distinctly remember being woke up. Now, this room had a window that faced the cemetery. I was drawn to the window. After my eyes adjusted – I seen them! There were hundreds of spirits. They were dancing! These ghosts were of mixed eras – Civil War, Flappers, Dresses with corsets, I distinctly seen pinstriped suits, too.

I ran into my Aunts room, waking her up. I told her ghosts were dancing in the cemetery, come quick! She did follow me and peered out the window. I said, “let’s go over there!” But she wisely said, “I see them too, but we can’t disturb the spirits.” I really wanted to go over to them, but instead we watched them dance around for at least half an hour. Finally, my Aunt said we needed to get back to bed as it was almost 4:00 A.M. by this point.” I asked her to describe how they appeared to her. “Have you ever seen ‘Haunted Mansion’? They were like that, translucent, and white, but a tint of color.” So my take is maybe, just maybe, the film “Carnival Of Souls,” had it right!

Late Night At Old Cemetery

So here’s a few tales about visiting the old local cemetery at night. An acquaintance told me about her and her man visiting a local cemetery late at night. This cemetery sits high on hills and happens to have a shrine cut into the front of the hill. This is where pilgrims may light a votive candle, which at the time, was open around the clock.

So, neither one was Catholic, but decided to go because of all of the lore that surrounds this cemetery. First, there’s the “Stairway to Heaven” steps that rise up a large hill, leading to a life-size Crucifix. Again, this is a 200-year-old cemetery, so supposedly at night, thrill seekers have seen an eerie glow around the stairway. Second, there’s another nearby hill, where again after a series of steps, you reach a life-size Crucifixion scene mounted high on a granite base. Many have seen white mist surrounding this. So the couple are making their way to the candle shrine, when he suddenly stops. On the hill atop of the shrine were dozens of shadow figures, backlight by a white glow. She seen them, too. They watched for a few seconds as the shadows gathered closer to hill slope to watch them. The couple whispered to each other – “Let’s go.” And they back peddled out of there. When the had safely drove away, they discussed what had happened. They both concluded that the shadows did not want them there, because they were just thrill-seekers!

I have more tales about this cemetery which I plan on posting soon. Do I believe it’s haunted? No. I went to school there, classmates are buried there, I visit it regularly. Our family plots are there! If anything, this cemetery is blessed and serene. But I do know it’s protected, which I feel is what the couple witnessed.