At last, a second installment of cemetery reviews! Last month, I had the good fortune to visit two very old and gorgeous cemeteries in Manchester, New Hampshire. I'll be reviewing them, and I'll be reviewing an old favorite from Windsor, Vermont. Enjoy!
1. Old South Church Cemetery, Windsor, Vermont
Old South Church Cemetery sits in the the churchyard of the Old South Church in downtown Windsor. It is a very simple and small graveyard, but it is quite pretty and attracts tourists in the fall. It seems to have been founded sometime in the mid-to-late 18th century, and is no longer active. The last burial seems to have taken place in the late 19th or early 20th century. The oldest gravestones are in the back, while the newest are in the front, a common layout with most graveyards, It has plenty of slate headstones dating from the late 18th and early 19th centuries, featuring soul effigies, urns and weeping willow trees. There are a few interesting epitaphs, including one that briefly describes the deceased cause of death: "Thrown from a Train,". Another describes "A Negro Servant who Died in Christ" and there are also a few beautiful poems, and even some Shakespeare quotes to be found.
The gravestone are in decent condition. Some of the them are damaged, especially the slate ones. Some of been repaired, but there are plenty of fallen stones, and even an old slate gravestone that has split, and is now coming apart in flakes. But most of the monuments are legible, except for a few cases where it has faded completely or where there the stone had broken off and gone missing, save for the base. A few broken and misplaced stone lean against the door of the cold storage crypt. My guess is that the damage is caused by a combination of vandalism and nature's wear and tear.
The grounds are fairly well kept. The grass is mowed, but there are lots of un-raked leaves and fallen branches. One grave stone is almost complete overgrown by brambles, which is a shame, as it is a beautiful old slate monument with a carving of a heart.
There is very little garbage in the cemetery, except for the odd bottle or drink container now and then. Overall, the cemetery is in rather good condition. Some family plots are cordoned off with ornate iron fences, but the cemetery itself only has fencing along the back and the sides of the property lines. The front of the cemetery is completely open, you can stroll into the cemetery at anytime, though I wouldn't recommend doing so after dark, as the police would most likely be patrolling the area.
The cemetery has a small population of squirrels and crows. The crows' cawing lends a rather eerie atmosphere to the cemetery.
I have never experienced anything outright paranormal in the cemetery. I have never seen or heard any ghosts in the Old South Church cemetery. But there are certain spots in the back corner and right behind the church itself that give off strange vibes. My favorite part of the cemetery is a small hill near the cold storage crypt. There is a grave on that hill belonging to a 13 year old girl named Sarah Millins, who died sometime in the 1810's. I feel oddly attached to this particular grave, for reasons I cannot explain. Every time I visit the Old South Church cemetery, I feel compelled to leave a flower at this young lady's grave and share a few kind words with her.
There appear to be a few graves belong to notable locals. I haven't seen this cemetery in over a year, but I would like to visit it again sometime soon. It is a Vermont cemetery worth visiting, especially if you enjoy slate headstones and interesting epitaphs.
2. Pine Grove Cemetery, Manchester, New Hampshire
This is without a single doubt, the biggest cemetery I have ever visited. It is so big, that you can't see all of it in one day. It is the largest cemetery in New Hampshire, according to a caretaker I talked to.
It appears to have been founded in the 1850's, when the Valley Cemetery ran out of room. It is still active, with lots of room to expand. It has a public mausoleum (which I did not visit), and even a pond with little stone bridges. There are thousands of gorgeous monuments, with lots of ornate statues, carvings and very opulent mausoleums belonging to the wealthy denizens of Manchester, featuring stained glass. There are gravestones, both modern and from the last century featuring photos of the deceased. There are two Civil War memorials. There is also a large chapel and a caretakers buildings. I could spend hours telling you about the individual mausoleums and graves I fell in love with, but not wanting to bore you anymore than I already am, I won't.
The monuments are in fantastic condition! I saw only a handful broken stones, most of them old marble ones from the 1850's.
The grounds are incredibly well kept, the grass mowed. There were fallen leaves, but that is to be expected. There were very few fallen branches. The newer sections are better kept than the old ones, and the section with the big Gilded Age mausoleums are better kept than the older part of the cemetery dating from the 1850's.
Is Pine Grove haunted? I did experience some strange activity at the Hill Mausoleum. Pictures I had taken of the inside of this particular mausoleum yielded strange phenomena, such as mist and orbs. I have also experienced freezing cold drafts coming from the mausoleum and feelings of utter terror. As a result, I avoid this monument. Otherwise, I do not think the cemetery is haunted. Overall, the place has some very comfortable, and almost familiar feelings for me.
Plenty of wealthy and notable people are buried there, but I couldn't tell you who the hell they are. Some of my favorite monuments consist of a statue of a woman and a little girl, a large sandstone monument (that's starting to crumble in places), a stone tree trunk featuring a life-sized lamb and dove and a pair of ceramic monuments shaped like open books.
This cemetery is definitely worth a trip to Manchester, and it's perhaps the most beautiful cemetery I've ever had the opportunity to visit.
3. Valley Cemetery, Manchester, New Hampshire
This is the most interesting cemetery I've ever visited. The cemetery was founded in the 1840's and was designed to be a garden cemetery. Most of the graves are located on a terraced ring of land, in the center is a valley which gives the cemetery it's name. There are very few graves in this valley. Valley Cemetery is no longer active.
The cemetery features a few slate stones from the 1840's, a couple of statues and a some mausoleums. There is also a lovely chapel, with a fountain, though that fountain appears to need repair. There are lots of beautiful carvings.
The cemetery is in sad condition, but thankfully, there has been an ongoing project to restore this beautiful, historic location to its former glory. A lot of gravestones are broken or damaged, and there are a few gravestones in the center valley of the cemetery that are overgrown and abandoned. The damage to various monuments appears to be a combination of the elements and vandalism. Some gravestones have been repaired, and some have not. There is some trash here and there, left by inconsiderate people. But like I already mentioned, there is a restoration project underway, and they're doing a wonderful job. The cemetery, even with its damage is still quite breathtaking.
While I did not experience anything outright paranormal in this cemetery, I did sense feelings of sadness and anger in areas where gravestones were broken or abandoned, especially in the center valley, where there were some isolated and overgrown stones. Otherwise, the areas that had been restored, felt peaceful. I also had overwhelming sensations of familiarity in certain parts of the cemetery, particularly near some damaged stones with ornate flower carvings, and near a mausoleum that overlooked the valley.
The cemetery contains several notable people, including several governors and mayors. There is also a website you can visit that contains information on the cemetery, you can find the link here: http://www.valley-cemetery.com/
Valley Cemetery is a gorgeous piece of history that shouldn't be left to abandon and ruin. I would definitely see this cemetery again and would recommend other to visit it, but as always I ask that people treat this beautiful place with respect.
Showing posts with label Vermont. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vermont. Show all posts
Monday, October 24, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Cemetery Review #1
I've decided, that every so often, I'm going to do a review of three different cemeteries. I'll discuss the condition of the monuments and the grounds. I'll talk about notable graves, and share legends about each cemetery. I'll share my observations and opinions.
I'll start with the three cemeteries I visit the most. I know these three like the back of my hand and have a lot to say about them. Enjoy!
1. St. Immanuel Episcopal Cemetery, Bellow's Falls, VT-
When I moved to Bellows Falls nearly six years ago, this is the first cemetery I visited. It's located next to the St. Immanuel Episcopal church and behind Bellows Falls Middle School. The oldest graves date from the late 18th or early 19th century and are near the the cemetery's main entrances. The newer graves sit at the back entrance along Cherry Hill Rd. There are also a bunch of new graves and a memorial garden on a hill overlooking the main part of the the cemetery. There are plenty of oak trees, and as a result the cemetery has an abundant squirrel population. The grounds are well kept, the grass is mowed. Once in awhile, there will be unraked leaves, or fallen branches that the caretaker hasn't picked up yet. In the winter, the pathways, are not plowed, presumably because the cemetery is supposed to be closed from October to May. The newer section has some trash in the bushes as a result of local kids going up there to hang out, but otherwise, it's very clean.
The gravestones are in decent condition. A few of the older ones are broken, and eroded, but some of them are repaired. I'm not sure whether the damage is caused by vandalism or natural causes. One particular stone, close to the church wall, gets buried by snow that falls off the roof every year. As a result it is completely unreadable.
While nature does attribute to a lot of the damage, vandalism is also a moderate problem. It usually comes in the form of kicked over and broken gravestones, I have yet to see any monuments damaged by spray paint or other artistic mediums. St. Immanuel's is located behind a middle school, and close to downtown BF, and as a result is prone to young people and drunks coming in and creating trouble. It's fairy easy to get into the cemetery, because not all the entrances are locked, and it's easy to hop over railings and squeeze between the gate and the fence, if you're thin enough.
At least one notable person is buried here. Hetty Green, known as "The Wicked Witch of Wall Street" and in her day, the richest woman in the world, is buried here with her husband, children and in-laws. Her gravestone is a fairly simple family obelisk made of granite, with names, and dates of birth and death. I like to leave pennies for her.
The cemetery is over all a very pretty cemetery. There aren't any statues (except for the odd urn now and then), but there are lots of very interesting carvings, and some beautiful Celtic crosses. It looks a bit spooky at night, and during the daytime one gets an uncomfortable feeling near the cold-storage crypt. The cemetery isn't outright haunted, but there is a feeling of being watched now and then. A friend of mine claims a witch is buried there, and when he sat on her table tomb, he says he felt something grab his leg. Another friend of mine told me she looked into the cold storage crypt through a crack in the doors and saw a figure moving around.
I definitely recommend visiting St. Immanuel's Episcopal Cemetery, if you like small, old cemeteries or if you're interested in Vermont history or Hetty Green.
2. Restland Cemetery, Bellows Falls Vermont
I first saw this cemetery while we were searching for an apartment in BF. I first visited this cemetery in late winter of 2006, several months after I moved in. The earliest known graves date from the mid-19th century and the most recent graves are from the late 20th century. Part of the cemetery is one flat ground, but it is also on a rather steep hill.
The grounds are very well-kept, with the grass being mowed, but there's a bit of trash in some places, due to people using the cemetery as a dumping ground or a party location. A lot of the gravestones are in fairly good condition, some of them are broken, some are weathered and very few are totally missing. I suspect there is a small amount of vandalism in this cemetery, despite being in the middle of a neighborhood. There are two entrances into Restland, a gate, and a staircase.
I have recently found out that "the last Abenaki Chief at Bellows Falls" is buried in Restland in an unknown location. Apparently, it used to be called the Rockingham Town Burying Ground. I find this very interesting, being Abenaki, myself.
The majority of cemetery occupants appear to be Irish, Italian and French. This makes a lot of sense, seeing as Bellows Falls used to be a mill town. A lot of the Irish and the Italian graves state that the people buried there emigrated.
I haven't heard any legends about the cemetery being haunted, though I have often felt like I am being watched when I am in there. There are some weird vibes in a certain corner of the cemetery where there are a lot of damaged graves. A friend of mine did a Ouija session in Restland, but did not communicate with any Restland occupants, but rather a spirit that was merely passing by.
Restland does not have any statues, but it has quite a few crosses and urns. There are a few pretty carvings. It's still definitely worth a look though, especially if you like little cemeteries. It is adjacent to Oak Hill Cemetery.
3. Oak Hill Cemetery, Bellows Falls/Westminster, Vermont
Oak Hill Cemetery is on a hill above Restland Cemetery. Half of it is technically, in Westminster VT. I first noticed this cemetery while visiting Restland, and visited the same day, but didn't stay long, for reasons I'll explain later.
The cemetery is terraced, with graves on different tiers. There is one large tier, where the majority of graves sit, and two smaller tiers filled with recent graves. The earliest graves seem to be from the mid to late 19th century. It is still very active.
The grounds are immaculately kept. I hardly ever see any trash there either. Very few of the gravestones are broken or damaged. There is some vandalism, but the town repairs most broken monuments.
Oak Hill is haunted. I have personally seen shapes, heard screams, and seen statues change their expressions. Almost everyone I have talked to has told me Oak Hill is haunted. There are a few legends surrounding the cemetery. One being that, a murderer would hide behind one of the benches and whoever sat at that bench would be brutally killed. There is however no proof that this actually happened. A friend informed me a dead girl was found in this cemetery during the 1960's, but like the legend of the murderer, there isn't any solid proof besides word of mouth.
All creepiness aside, Oak Hill is gorgeous. It's got a gazebo, a Veterans memorial, and plenty of beautiful statues and carvings. I certainly recommend this cemetery to anyone who loves cemeteries and to anyone who loves paranormal investigation.
I'll start with the three cemeteries I visit the most. I know these three like the back of my hand and have a lot to say about them. Enjoy!
1. St. Immanuel Episcopal Cemetery, Bellow's Falls, VT-
When I moved to Bellows Falls nearly six years ago, this is the first cemetery I visited. It's located next to the St. Immanuel Episcopal church and behind Bellows Falls Middle School. The oldest graves date from the late 18th or early 19th century and are near the the cemetery's main entrances. The newer graves sit at the back entrance along Cherry Hill Rd. There are also a bunch of new graves and a memorial garden on a hill overlooking the main part of the the cemetery. There are plenty of oak trees, and as a result the cemetery has an abundant squirrel population. The grounds are well kept, the grass is mowed. Once in awhile, there will be unraked leaves, or fallen branches that the caretaker hasn't picked up yet. In the winter, the pathways, are not plowed, presumably because the cemetery is supposed to be closed from October to May. The newer section has some trash in the bushes as a result of local kids going up there to hang out, but otherwise, it's very clean.
The gravestones are in decent condition. A few of the older ones are broken, and eroded, but some of them are repaired. I'm not sure whether the damage is caused by vandalism or natural causes. One particular stone, close to the church wall, gets buried by snow that falls off the roof every year. As a result it is completely unreadable.
While nature does attribute to a lot of the damage, vandalism is also a moderate problem. It usually comes in the form of kicked over and broken gravestones, I have yet to see any monuments damaged by spray paint or other artistic mediums. St. Immanuel's is located behind a middle school, and close to downtown BF, and as a result is prone to young people and drunks coming in and creating trouble. It's fairy easy to get into the cemetery, because not all the entrances are locked, and it's easy to hop over railings and squeeze between the gate and the fence, if you're thin enough.
At least one notable person is buried here. Hetty Green, known as "The Wicked Witch of Wall Street" and in her day, the richest woman in the world, is buried here with her husband, children and in-laws. Her gravestone is a fairly simple family obelisk made of granite, with names, and dates of birth and death. I like to leave pennies for her.
The cemetery is over all a very pretty cemetery. There aren't any statues (except for the odd urn now and then), but there are lots of very interesting carvings, and some beautiful Celtic crosses. It looks a bit spooky at night, and during the daytime one gets an uncomfortable feeling near the cold-storage crypt. The cemetery isn't outright haunted, but there is a feeling of being watched now and then. A friend of mine claims a witch is buried there, and when he sat on her table tomb, he says he felt something grab his leg. Another friend of mine told me she looked into the cold storage crypt through a crack in the doors and saw a figure moving around.
I definitely recommend visiting St. Immanuel's Episcopal Cemetery, if you like small, old cemeteries or if you're interested in Vermont history or Hetty Green.
2. Restland Cemetery, Bellows Falls Vermont
I first saw this cemetery while we were searching for an apartment in BF. I first visited this cemetery in late winter of 2006, several months after I moved in. The earliest known graves date from the mid-19th century and the most recent graves are from the late 20th century. Part of the cemetery is one flat ground, but it is also on a rather steep hill.
The grounds are very well-kept, with the grass being mowed, but there's a bit of trash in some places, due to people using the cemetery as a dumping ground or a party location. A lot of the gravestones are in fairly good condition, some of them are broken, some are weathered and very few are totally missing. I suspect there is a small amount of vandalism in this cemetery, despite being in the middle of a neighborhood. There are two entrances into Restland, a gate, and a staircase.
I have recently found out that "the last Abenaki Chief at Bellows Falls" is buried in Restland in an unknown location. Apparently, it used to be called the Rockingham Town Burying Ground. I find this very interesting, being Abenaki, myself.
The majority of cemetery occupants appear to be Irish, Italian and French. This makes a lot of sense, seeing as Bellows Falls used to be a mill town. A lot of the Irish and the Italian graves state that the people buried there emigrated.
I haven't heard any legends about the cemetery being haunted, though I have often felt like I am being watched when I am in there. There are some weird vibes in a certain corner of the cemetery where there are a lot of damaged graves. A friend of mine did a Ouija session in Restland, but did not communicate with any Restland occupants, but rather a spirit that was merely passing by.
Restland does not have any statues, but it has quite a few crosses and urns. There are a few pretty carvings. It's still definitely worth a look though, especially if you like little cemeteries. It is adjacent to Oak Hill Cemetery.
3. Oak Hill Cemetery, Bellows Falls/Westminster, Vermont
Oak Hill Cemetery is on a hill above Restland Cemetery. Half of it is technically, in Westminster VT. I first noticed this cemetery while visiting Restland, and visited the same day, but didn't stay long, for reasons I'll explain later.
The cemetery is terraced, with graves on different tiers. There is one large tier, where the majority of graves sit, and two smaller tiers filled with recent graves. The earliest graves seem to be from the mid to late 19th century. It is still very active.
The grounds are immaculately kept. I hardly ever see any trash there either. Very few of the gravestones are broken or damaged. There is some vandalism, but the town repairs most broken monuments.
Oak Hill is haunted. I have personally seen shapes, heard screams, and seen statues change their expressions. Almost everyone I have talked to has told me Oak Hill is haunted. There are a few legends surrounding the cemetery. One being that, a murderer would hide behind one of the benches and whoever sat at that bench would be brutally killed. There is however no proof that this actually happened. A friend informed me a dead girl was found in this cemetery during the 1960's, but like the legend of the murderer, there isn't any solid proof besides word of mouth.
All creepiness aside, Oak Hill is gorgeous. It's got a gazebo, a Veterans memorial, and plenty of beautiful statues and carvings. I certainly recommend this cemetery to anyone who loves cemeteries and to anyone who loves paranormal investigation.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
My Weirdest Cemetery Experiences
I love cemeteries. Really, I do. During spring, summer and fall, I visit them as often as I can. Most of these visits are pleasant, relaxing even. I see interesting gravestones, and sometimes spot wildlife. But every so often, while I'm taking in the tombs, something completely bizarre will happen.
In this blog, I will describe the six weirdest things that have ever happened me in a cemetery. I've probably got more than six, but these are the ones I remember. Each one will be given a rating of 1-10, 1 being "A Little Odd" and ten being "Completely Fucking Bizarre". Enjoy...
1. The Peacocks
One day, in the summer 0f 2007, I was walking through Restland Cemetery, in Bellows Falls, VT. By the fence on the far side of the cemetery, I saw a large white shape. The first thought that came to my mind was that I was seeing a ghost. So I started to move towards it, to get a better look.
It wasn't a ghost. It was an albino peacock! Behind it, was another, smaller peacock, a female, though not albino. I know what you're thinking. Peacocks? In a Vermont cemetery? Astounded, I ran out of the cemetery and down the street to my friends Lauren's house. I needed a second witness, to prove that I wasn't hallucinating. Lauren wasn't home, but her Uncle was and he went out to the cemetery with me, to take a look. We stood at the fence near the gate, and I pointed out the two birds. No, I wasn't hallucinating. Yes, those were peacocks. Probably somebody's pets, he reasoned. I thanked him, and went back into the cemetery. I continued to watch the peacocks, hiding behind a large monument so as not to startle them. At some point, a man and a woman about my age took a shortcut through the graveyard, walking right past the peacocks. They didn't seem to notice the two exotic birds that were less than ten feet away from them. They were oblivious, much to my surprise. In the 4 years since, I never saw those peacocks again, though I've been to Restland hundreds of times. On a scale of 1 to 10 in the Weirdness, this experience was a 10. Completely Fucking Bizarre.
2. The Impromptu Concert
Another summer day, this time in 2008. I was taking a walk, when I noticed I was being followed by two girls who I had had some problems with in high school. Paranoid, I tried to evade them. I turned onto the street that led to St. Immanuel Episcopal cemetery, also in Bellows Falls, VT. They continued to follow me. Starting to feel a little bit nervous (understatement of the century), I entered the cemetery, hoping they wouldn't follow me in there. But just being in the little churchyard wasn't good enough. They'd still see me in the older section, so I started to climb the steep hill up into the more hidden new section of St. Immanuel's, which has a scattering of new headstones and a memorial garden. I could have taken the asphalt path that led up there, but I was panicking, and not thinking so clearly as a result. Once I reached the top of the hill, I was treated to the site of two men playing drums and the didgeridoo. I was surprised, but not frightened. These were just two men playing music, not two teenage girls with a grudge. So I plopped down onto the grass and listened to the impromptu concert. When they finished playing, I talked to the two gentleman for a little bit. They proved to be very polite and pleasant company.
On a scale of 1-10 this little episode was about a 6. It was weird, but considering the fact that I live in VT, not terribly uncommon.
3. The Crow Wing
I was in Old South Church Cemetery, in Windsor, VT, in April of 2010 when I stumbled across a rather grisly sight. At the base of an early 19th century gravestone, lay a dismembered bird wing. A large one. I suspected it was a crow. It had been torn off at the joint, probably by a predator. I looked around for other bird parts, but only the wing remained. Curious, I took a stick and flipped the wing over, to check the feathers for markings. Glossy black feathers, but no markings. It probably belonged to a crow or a raven. I assumed it was a crow, because there were a whole bunch of them in the trees above me. And that's where it gets weird (as if finding a dismembered crow wing wasn't weird enough). As soon as I had moved the wing, the living birds above my head began to squawk angrily at me, as if scolding me for disturbing that wing. I apologized, and moved the wing back into the position I found it (using the stick, I never touch a wild animal carcass with my bare hands). When I went to the cemetery the next day, the wing was gone, probably carried off by a scavenger.
I give this one about a 5. It was sinister, it was creepy, but bits of dead animals are a part of nature.
4. The Cemetery Gnome
In either late summer or early fall of 2010, I was wandering Restland Cemetery when I stumbled across a garden gnome. A garden gnome. It looked like a vintage one too, sitting at the base of a 19th century headstone. Where the hell did it come from? Amused, I snapped a picture of it on my camera. A few weeks later, I showed the picture to some acquaintances. When I went to the cemetery again, the gnome was gone. Was it stolen? Did it just get up and walk away? My guess is the former, but I'll never know. All in all the experience was about an 8. It was just weird.
5. Robert Frost's Tupperware.
On the eve of my twentieth birthday, my mother and I were driving to my aunt's house in NY. We passed through Bennington, VT, and as a treat, my mom stopped to take me to the Old Bennington Cemetery. Robert Frost is buried there, and the first thing we did, was find his grave. As we paid our respects, I noticed an empty Tupperware container sitting next to his grave. Where did it come from? Did somebody have a picnic and just leave it behind? Odd. I'm giving this one a 1. It's weird, but not as weird as the gnome.
6. Squirrel Attack
Once again, we find ourselves in Old South Church Cemetery. So here I am, walking under some pine trees by the cold storage crypt when I hear a loud thump behind me. Assuming it's a ghost, I scream and jump about a foot in the air. But there were no ghosts here. Just a pine cone. A pine cone had fallen and nearly hit me. I look up, and sitting in the tree is a squirrel, screaming indignantly at me. Had the squirrel thrown the pine cone at me? Probably not. But the thought's a funny one. I give it a 1. It's really not so much weird, as it was hilarious.
In this blog, I will describe the six weirdest things that have ever happened me in a cemetery. I've probably got more than six, but these are the ones I remember. Each one will be given a rating of 1-10, 1 being "A Little Odd" and ten being "Completely Fucking Bizarre". Enjoy...
1. The Peacocks
One day, in the summer 0f 2007, I was walking through Restland Cemetery, in Bellows Falls, VT. By the fence on the far side of the cemetery, I saw a large white shape. The first thought that came to my mind was that I was seeing a ghost. So I started to move towards it, to get a better look.
It wasn't a ghost. It was an albino peacock! Behind it, was another, smaller peacock, a female, though not albino. I know what you're thinking. Peacocks? In a Vermont cemetery? Astounded, I ran out of the cemetery and down the street to my friends Lauren's house. I needed a second witness, to prove that I wasn't hallucinating. Lauren wasn't home, but her Uncle was and he went out to the cemetery with me, to take a look. We stood at the fence near the gate, and I pointed out the two birds. No, I wasn't hallucinating. Yes, those were peacocks. Probably somebody's pets, he reasoned. I thanked him, and went back into the cemetery. I continued to watch the peacocks, hiding behind a large monument so as not to startle them. At some point, a man and a woman about my age took a shortcut through the graveyard, walking right past the peacocks. They didn't seem to notice the two exotic birds that were less than ten feet away from them. They were oblivious, much to my surprise. In the 4 years since, I never saw those peacocks again, though I've been to Restland hundreds of times. On a scale of 1 to 10 in the Weirdness, this experience was a 10. Completely Fucking Bizarre.
2. The Impromptu Concert
Another summer day, this time in 2008. I was taking a walk, when I noticed I was being followed by two girls who I had had some problems with in high school. Paranoid, I tried to evade them. I turned onto the street that led to St. Immanuel Episcopal cemetery, also in Bellows Falls, VT. They continued to follow me. Starting to feel a little bit nervous (understatement of the century), I entered the cemetery, hoping they wouldn't follow me in there. But just being in the little churchyard wasn't good enough. They'd still see me in the older section, so I started to climb the steep hill up into the more hidden new section of St. Immanuel's, which has a scattering of new headstones and a memorial garden. I could have taken the asphalt path that led up there, but I was panicking, and not thinking so clearly as a result. Once I reached the top of the hill, I was treated to the site of two men playing drums and the didgeridoo. I was surprised, but not frightened. These were just two men playing music, not two teenage girls with a grudge. So I plopped down onto the grass and listened to the impromptu concert. When they finished playing, I talked to the two gentleman for a little bit. They proved to be very polite and pleasant company.
On a scale of 1-10 this little episode was about a 6. It was weird, but considering the fact that I live in VT, not terribly uncommon.
3. The Crow Wing
I was in Old South Church Cemetery, in Windsor, VT, in April of 2010 when I stumbled across a rather grisly sight. At the base of an early 19th century gravestone, lay a dismembered bird wing. A large one. I suspected it was a crow. It had been torn off at the joint, probably by a predator. I looked around for other bird parts, but only the wing remained. Curious, I took a stick and flipped the wing over, to check the feathers for markings. Glossy black feathers, but no markings. It probably belonged to a crow or a raven. I assumed it was a crow, because there were a whole bunch of them in the trees above me. And that's where it gets weird (as if finding a dismembered crow wing wasn't weird enough). As soon as I had moved the wing, the living birds above my head began to squawk angrily at me, as if scolding me for disturbing that wing. I apologized, and moved the wing back into the position I found it (using the stick, I never touch a wild animal carcass with my bare hands). When I went to the cemetery the next day, the wing was gone, probably carried off by a scavenger.
I give this one about a 5. It was sinister, it was creepy, but bits of dead animals are a part of nature.
4. The Cemetery Gnome
In either late summer or early fall of 2010, I was wandering Restland Cemetery when I stumbled across a garden gnome. A garden gnome. It looked like a vintage one too, sitting at the base of a 19th century headstone. Where the hell did it come from? Amused, I snapped a picture of it on my camera. A few weeks later, I showed the picture to some acquaintances. When I went to the cemetery again, the gnome was gone. Was it stolen? Did it just get up and walk away? My guess is the former, but I'll never know. All in all the experience was about an 8. It was just weird.
5. Robert Frost's Tupperware.
On the eve of my twentieth birthday, my mother and I were driving to my aunt's house in NY. We passed through Bennington, VT, and as a treat, my mom stopped to take me to the Old Bennington Cemetery. Robert Frost is buried there, and the first thing we did, was find his grave. As we paid our respects, I noticed an empty Tupperware container sitting next to his grave. Where did it come from? Did somebody have a picnic and just leave it behind? Odd. I'm giving this one a 1. It's weird, but not as weird as the gnome.
6. Squirrel Attack
Once again, we find ourselves in Old South Church Cemetery. So here I am, walking under some pine trees by the cold storage crypt when I hear a loud thump behind me. Assuming it's a ghost, I scream and jump about a foot in the air. But there were no ghosts here. Just a pine cone. A pine cone had fallen and nearly hit me. I look up, and sitting in the tree is a squirrel, screaming indignantly at me. Had the squirrel thrown the pine cone at me? Probably not. But the thought's a funny one. I give it a 1. It's really not so much weird, as it was hilarious.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Friday Part 3
Merrily merrily and onward we go...
Part 3: Beauty In Decay
Crossing the border into New York from Vermont is almost like entering another country. The landscape is different for one thing. The roadsides of the Empire State are dotted with billboards, usually displaying some kind of public service announcement about drunk driving or buckling your seatbelt. We don't have billboards in Vermont, they're illegal. Why? Because tourism is our main source of income, and billboards clutter up the beautiful landscapes that attract travelers from all over the country. So when you drive down our interstates and winding country roads, your view of our gorgeous fields and foliage is untainted by gaudy advertising. This is another reason that Vermont is awesome.
There are other differences in New York's landscape, but I can not name them. For some reason, New York always seems more drab than Vermont. Ah well...perhaps I am just biased.
It's not that driving through New York is a complete and total bore. We did see some interesting things. We drove past a country store with a stuffed moose on the roof. We drove past a furniture store that had over-sized chairs, sinks and beds. Katie snapped a few pictures of some of these sights. And as always, there were plenty of cemeteries and abandoned buildings to admire, including a creepy looking abandoned church.
Eventually, we reached Troy, NY. I've driven through there before, in fact my mom and I blew a tire there once, and ended up spending an hour or so in the Hess parking lot, in the middle of a not-so-good neighborhood.
Luckily, there were no blown tires or other automotive mishaps, though we did have to endure some wretched traffic. While we drove through the bustling, ghetto-tastic metropolis we were treated to more interesting sights. There was a Popeye's Chicken, which we don't have in Vermont, as well as some really cool graffiti. We drove under some great bridges, which mom said would be great to live under, if you were homeless. We also saw really cool old buildings. We drove through dilapidated ghetto neighborhoods, but I found them, in an odd way, quite charming. I'm one of those people that finds beauty in decay.
Then we drove over a bridge which spanned across the Hudson River. I always like driving over the Hudson. The Hudson is as wide as the Connecticut (which I live near), but it seemed rougher, wilder, and more badass than the Connecticut. The water in the Hudson even looked darker and choppier than the Connecticut.
So we drove and drove, until Mom decided it was time for a pit stop. We stopped at Stewart's gas station, not far from Mechanicville, where we used the bathroom and got some drinks. Mom and I got bottles of water and fruit punch flavored Gatorade, but I don't remember what Katie got. I suppose it doesn't matter.
Once we were back on the road, I took my medication and finished off my chicken fries from earlier that day. I would have eaten the onion rings, but they had tasted weird in the restaurant, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to eat them now.
Finally, we made it to Mechanicville, NY, where we would be staying at my aunt's house for the night. We arrived at my aunt's house rather quickly, where, once getting out of the car, I expected to see my grandmother, whom I had not seen in a full decade.
The only person at the house was my Uncle Russel. He invited us in, and asked us if we wanted to eat or drink anything. We declined politely, and he informed us that my Aunt Elizabeth and cousin Sam had gone to pick up my Grandmother from my Aunt Jenny's cabin in Schroon Lake. Then, he asked us if we would like to sit in the living room, where there was air-conditioning.
Inside the living room, it was much cooler. We had some pleasant conversation, and mom showed off pictures of my nephew, John Peter. She also showed my uncle a picture of our 35 pound orange tabby cat, Kirby.
My aunt's dogs, a Greyhound named Tony and a Dachshund named Lucy were very eager to see us. Tony hopped into my sister's lap. Lucy could not hop into anyone's lap, since she was sitting in her crate. This is a good thing, she pees whenever she gets very excited.
Eventually she was let out, and I was the one she chose to jump on, covering me in happy slobbery little dog kisses. Thank god I had moist towelettes in my backpack. But I enjoyed snuggling with her, she has the softest fur I have felt on any dog, and she is very loving and affectionate. Tony, who reminds me of a little pony, with his eager little trot and short, smooth fur stayed with my sister. Dogs like my sister very much. So do children.
Then, at long last, my aunt arrived with my cousin and grandmother in tow. I was struck with some shyness. I hadn't seen Grandma in such a long time after all.
My cousin Sam stuck his head around the living room curtain and said a curtly and shyly: "Hello, Sara" before running away. Sam is very shy around me, for reasons I can't quite fathom.
Mustering my courage, I got up out of my chair, and walked slowly from the living room to the kitchen to greet my Grandma Libby. I had intended to speak in Spanish to her (she's Cuban), but upon seeing her I forgot, and merely spoke shyly in English and hugged her tightly.
She seemed older than she had been the last time I saw her. This was of course, inevitable, seeing as I had not seen her in ten years. I had also grown taller than her in the decade since we had last seen each other. This shouldn't have been a surprise either, but I couldn't help but be slightly shocked by this. But still, it was so very good to see her.
After we sat a spell in the living room, we decided to go to The Pasta Factory for dinner. Sam would not be going with us, because he wanted to go swimming at a neighbor's house. So it was just the adults. I would ride with Aunt Elizabeth and Grandma, Katie and Mom would drive in the Sunfire and Uncle Russel would drive in his own little red car, which is twelve years older than God and has been around since my childhood.
The ride to the Restaurant was very pleasant. I felt so happy, being near my Abuela again. I counted another cemetery and chatted with my aunt and grandma.
But alas, the ride was much too short, and soon enough we had arrived at The Pasta Factory, to enjoy a nice family dinner.
Coming up next...a tasty noodle dish, a bad movie and some really gross sound effects.
Part 3: Beauty In Decay
Crossing the border into New York from Vermont is almost like entering another country. The landscape is different for one thing. The roadsides of the Empire State are dotted with billboards, usually displaying some kind of public service announcement about drunk driving or buckling your seatbelt. We don't have billboards in Vermont, they're illegal. Why? Because tourism is our main source of income, and billboards clutter up the beautiful landscapes that attract travelers from all over the country. So when you drive down our interstates and winding country roads, your view of our gorgeous fields and foliage is untainted by gaudy advertising. This is another reason that Vermont is awesome.
There are other differences in New York's landscape, but I can not name them. For some reason, New York always seems more drab than Vermont. Ah well...perhaps I am just biased.
It's not that driving through New York is a complete and total bore. We did see some interesting things. We drove past a country store with a stuffed moose on the roof. We drove past a furniture store that had over-sized chairs, sinks and beds. Katie snapped a few pictures of some of these sights. And as always, there were plenty of cemeteries and abandoned buildings to admire, including a creepy looking abandoned church.
Eventually, we reached Troy, NY. I've driven through there before, in fact my mom and I blew a tire there once, and ended up spending an hour or so in the Hess parking lot, in the middle of a not-so-good neighborhood.
Luckily, there were no blown tires or other automotive mishaps, though we did have to endure some wretched traffic. While we drove through the bustling, ghetto-tastic metropolis we were treated to more interesting sights. There was a Popeye's Chicken, which we don't have in Vermont, as well as some really cool graffiti. We drove under some great bridges, which mom said would be great to live under, if you were homeless. We also saw really cool old buildings. We drove through dilapidated ghetto neighborhoods, but I found them, in an odd way, quite charming. I'm one of those people that finds beauty in decay.
Then we drove over a bridge which spanned across the Hudson River. I always like driving over the Hudson. The Hudson is as wide as the Connecticut (which I live near), but it seemed rougher, wilder, and more badass than the Connecticut. The water in the Hudson even looked darker and choppier than the Connecticut.
So we drove and drove, until Mom decided it was time for a pit stop. We stopped at Stewart's gas station, not far from Mechanicville, where we used the bathroom and got some drinks. Mom and I got bottles of water and fruit punch flavored Gatorade, but I don't remember what Katie got. I suppose it doesn't matter.
Once we were back on the road, I took my medication and finished off my chicken fries from earlier that day. I would have eaten the onion rings, but they had tasted weird in the restaurant, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to eat them now.
Finally, we made it to Mechanicville, NY, where we would be staying at my aunt's house for the night. We arrived at my aunt's house rather quickly, where, once getting out of the car, I expected to see my grandmother, whom I had not seen in a full decade.
The only person at the house was my Uncle Russel. He invited us in, and asked us if we wanted to eat or drink anything. We declined politely, and he informed us that my Aunt Elizabeth and cousin Sam had gone to pick up my Grandmother from my Aunt Jenny's cabin in Schroon Lake. Then, he asked us if we would like to sit in the living room, where there was air-conditioning.
Inside the living room, it was much cooler. We had some pleasant conversation, and mom showed off pictures of my nephew, John Peter. She also showed my uncle a picture of our 35 pound orange tabby cat, Kirby.
My aunt's dogs, a Greyhound named Tony and a Dachshund named Lucy were very eager to see us. Tony hopped into my sister's lap. Lucy could not hop into anyone's lap, since she was sitting in her crate. This is a good thing, she pees whenever she gets very excited.
Eventually she was let out, and I was the one she chose to jump on, covering me in happy slobbery little dog kisses. Thank god I had moist towelettes in my backpack. But I enjoyed snuggling with her, she has the softest fur I have felt on any dog, and she is very loving and affectionate. Tony, who reminds me of a little pony, with his eager little trot and short, smooth fur stayed with my sister. Dogs like my sister very much. So do children.
Then, at long last, my aunt arrived with my cousin and grandmother in tow. I was struck with some shyness. I hadn't seen Grandma in such a long time after all.
My cousin Sam stuck his head around the living room curtain and said a curtly and shyly: "Hello, Sara" before running away. Sam is very shy around me, for reasons I can't quite fathom.
Mustering my courage, I got up out of my chair, and walked slowly from the living room to the kitchen to greet my Grandma Libby. I had intended to speak in Spanish to her (she's Cuban), but upon seeing her I forgot, and merely spoke shyly in English and hugged her tightly.
She seemed older than she had been the last time I saw her. This was of course, inevitable, seeing as I had not seen her in ten years. I had also grown taller than her in the decade since we had last seen each other. This shouldn't have been a surprise either, but I couldn't help but be slightly shocked by this. But still, it was so very good to see her.
After we sat a spell in the living room, we decided to go to The Pasta Factory for dinner. Sam would not be going with us, because he wanted to go swimming at a neighbor's house. So it was just the adults. I would ride with Aunt Elizabeth and Grandma, Katie and Mom would drive in the Sunfire and Uncle Russel would drive in his own little red car, which is twelve years older than God and has been around since my childhood.
The ride to the Restaurant was very pleasant. I felt so happy, being near my Abuela again. I counted another cemetery and chatted with my aunt and grandma.
But alas, the ride was much too short, and soon enough we had arrived at The Pasta Factory, to enjoy a nice family dinner.
Coming up next...a tasty noodle dish, a bad movie and some really gross sound effects.
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