Haunted Cemeteries Read online

  The graveyards quickly became overcrowded. By 1866, when the Common Council prohibited any more burials in graveyards within the city limits, more than eleven thousand people were interred at City Cemetery—four thousand bodies alone from the Civil War prisoner-of-war camp at Camp Douglas.

  Rural cemeteries located outside the city limits were an ideal solution. They were high above the water table, plus— especially in the case of Graceland Cemetery—their large acreage allowed them to be landscaped in the clean, open design then coming into vogue.

  In 1870, City Cemetery was closed, and the relocation of bodies to other sites began. Many of them were moved to Graceland.

  Moving their remains might have been enough to make the dead into restless spirits, Joe thought. But the grave said to be the most haunted, and the one he most dreaded passing by, was from one of the later arrivals: a six-year-old girl by the name of Inez Clarke.

  The youngster and her family were out on a picnic in 1880 when a horrendous storm suddenly whipped up—much like the one I’m caught in tonight, Joe noted. Before they were able to rush to shelter, a lightning bolt crashed to earth, hitting Inez and killing her instantly. Her parents were inconsolable. To commemorate their daughter, they had a poignant statue made to place over her grave. It was a remarkable likeness. She wears a frilly dress, sits content-edly on a rustic chair, and has a soft smile on her lips. To protect the sculpture from wind and rain, Inez’s parents sealed it in a glass box. It has stood over the girl’s resting place ever since.

  Joe was fully aware that there was a darker, sadder version of the story, however. According to some, Inez had been sent outdoors in the storm as punishment. When she was struck by lightning, her guilt-ridden parents told others she had died of tuberculosis.

  Regardless of what had actually happened, Inez’s spirit was never able to rest in peace. Within weeks of her burial, her spectre began to meander throughout the cemetery. Children in particular could see the pretty lass in an old- fashioned dress playing by herself near the glass-enclosed statue. Others would hear unusual noises close to the grave, including the disembodied sound of a small girl moaning or crying.

  As Joe approached Inez’s gravesite on his rounds, he knew he couldn’t let such nonsense get in the way of his responsibilities. It was his job to make sure every part of the property was secure.

  Up ahead he could make out the shimmer of a reflective surface in the glow of his flashlight. It was the glass enclosure around Inez’s statue. But something was wrong. The protective box, set up on a low, engraved pedestal, was empty!

  How could that be? Had someone gotten in and stolen the artwork? No, the transparent chest was unbroken, not a single crack in the glass. The only other explanation was unthinkable. The statue had escaped on its own! But how? Had the statue come to life?

  Joe didn’t wait to find out. Within minutes he had abandoned his post, fled the graveyard, and never returned.

  The man who came to relieve him the next morning was puzzled by the absence of the usually reliable Joe. Otherwise nothing seemed amiss, except for the debris scattered about from the previous night’s storm. As he gave the grounds a once-over, the guard noticed that even the unusual glass container over the little girl’s grave had escaped damage. And there inside was the bewitching statue, right where it had always been.

  The tale of Inez Clarke is one of the best-known legends in all ghostdom. Many people have stood in front of her stone portraiture and meditated on the marvels of life and death—and the thin veil that separates the two.

  Isn’t it sad to discover that none of this ghost story is true?

  No one is sure when and how the charming statue of a little girl came to be placed in Graceland Cemetery, but one thing is certain: The person buried underneath it is not Inez Clarke, or even an Inez. In fact, it’s not a girl at all. The grave belongs to an eight-year-old boy by the name of Amos Briggs.

  As for Inez Clarke, it’s not certain that she ever existed. There’s no record of anyone by that name having been interred at Graceland. Nor is there a listing of an Inez Clarke in the local US Census registers from the late nineteenth century.

  In 1910, cemetery officials contacted the family that most people associated with the myth. The Clarkes were aware of the old wives’ tale and had visited the gravesite to check it out for themselves. They thought it was “a lovely statue,” but they assured the investigators that they only had two daughters, neither was named Inez, and both were still very much alive. To this day, no one knows how the legend began.

  So why was the statue placed over Briggs’s grave? Current thought is that a Scottish sculptor named Andrew Gage may have carved it as a sample of his funereal work in 1881. The early architects of Graceland Cemetery strove to make the burial ground a place of splendor, and the figure is inarguably a thing of beauty. The artwork may have been accepted simply to enhance the atmosphere of the graveyard, with little thought as to where it should be placed.

  Stories of cemetery statues coming to life are very popular in ghost literature. Even the haunted sculpture of a girl in a glass coffin is far from unique. When twenty-six-year-old Grace Laverne Galloway was buried in Lake View Cemetery in Jamestown, New York, in 1898, her father commissioned an Italian artist to carve her in marble to decorate her tomb. To prevent wear from the harsh climate, the life-size image was encased in glass. As circumstances of the chaste young woman’s death from tuberculosis were forgotten, paranormal accounts rose in their place. Rumors started that she died as a bride, or on prom night, or after an affair with the family chauffeur. Her ghost supposedly floats through the graveyard at night, seeking her lost love. An interesting variation of the tale says the woman’s soul is trapped inside the marble.

  Interestingly, the “Inez Clarke” statue is not the only sculpture in Graceland Cemetery that’s said to be haunted. Eternal Silence, a stunning work by Lorado Taft that stands in front of the tomb of Dexter Graves, is perhaps the cemetery’s eeriest monument. The hooded, heavily shrouded male effigy is enigmatic, its stern visage peering out from under a flowing cowl. The fearsome representation of Death holds his right arm raised so that the cloak hides the lower half of his face. The brass statue was originally painted black, but almost all the covering has worn off, resulting in a dramatic blue-green patina. The shielded, unworn face remains dark, which adds to the artwork’s overall sinister effect.

  It’s alleged that the sculpture will not show up in any photographs taken of it, despite the fact that thousands of them exist. Also, it’s said that if you stare into the statue’s eyes, you’ll see a vision of your own death. So far, however, there are no reports of anyone ever having received an authentic prophecy of his or her own doom.

  But that hasn’t stopped the stories.

  Neither has learning the facts about Inez. Besides, just because we know who actually lies beneath the statue doesn’t mean the sculpture doesn’t disappear from its case on rainy nights. Or that the ghost of a little girl doesn’t wander the grounds or that her disembodied sobbing can’t be heard on the evening breeze.

  Who are you going to believe?

  Chapter 4

  The Helping Hand

  Little boys and girls shouldn’t play in cemeteries alone. At least that seems to be what Julia Buccola Petta, the phantom bride, must think as she takes stray youngsters by the hand and leads them out of Mount Carmel Cemetery.

  A small circle of cemetery officials, family, friends, and curious onlookers were gathered around the grave. It had taken Philomena Buccola (or Filomina, as her name was sometimes spelled) six years to get permission to exhume the body of her daughter Julia. Perhaps she would finally learn the reason for the unsettling dreams she’d been having ever since the young woman was interred.

  Julia Buccola Petta was born into an Italian household in Schaumburg, Illinois, in 1892. She died while giving birth to a stillborn baby in 1921, and the family buried Julia, dressed in her wedding gown, at Mount Carmel Cemetery in Hillside, Ill
inois, about ten miles west of Chicago.

  The graveyard was one of the first to be established on Chicago’s west side. In 1895, the Most Reverend Patrick A. Feehan, who was archbishop of Chicago, bought Buck Farm, 160 acres of pastoral land, for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Chicago. He set aside an initial thirty-two of those acres to be consecrated as Mount Carmel Cemetery. The graveyard opened its gates in 1901 primarily as a Catholic burial ground, although the site was open to members of other denominations as well.

  Interments were slow at first, with only about fifty burials in the first year. Within two years, however, there were 1,300 graves. The cemetery continued to grow by leaps and bounds: In one year alone, 1918, almost five thousand souls were buried because of the great flu pandemic.

  Julia’s interment came just three years later. Almost immediately afterward, Philomena began to have nightmares in which her daughter pleaded with her to dig up her body. In the dreams, Julia maintained that her grave had to be opened because she was still alive. The mother knew better, of course, but her daughter became increasingly insistent.

  At first Philomena said nothing. She was sure she was experiencing hallucinations caused by her devastating grief. But when the troubling dreams didn’t stop, she accepted that she was receiving messages from the Beyond, and she decided to comply with the girl’s wishes. She convinced her son Henry to pay to have the body exhumed.

  Getting the cemetery and church authorities to agree to it was another matter entirely. Philomena pleaded her case for six years, telling anyone who would listen about her disturbing dreams. Eventually the officials gave in and agreed to have Julia’s body examined.

  No one was prepared for what came next. As they opened the lid to the casket, they expected to be overcome by the nauseating odor of putrid, decomposing flesh. Instead, a pleasant, sweet scent wafted out of the coffin, almost as if it was filled with the flowers that were laid on the grave the day Julia was buried.

  But that was nothing compared with the shock of seeing the corpse itself. The young woman looked as beautiful as the day the coffin had been sealed. Her skin was radiant, her hair bright and shining. Not a speck of her corporeal remains had begun to decay. Miraculously, she appeared to be merely sleeping.

  Julia was an incorruptible.

  Such a phenomenon, though rare, is not unique. Corpses that have avoided putrefaction without being embalmed have been discovered in particularly arid climates (such as the Chiribaya Indians unearthed in the desert regions of Peru) and in peat marshes (such as the famous Iron Age “Bog Man” of Clonycavan, Ireland).

  But those bodies had all been naturally mummified, dried out, or turned leatherlike by the environment in the absence of microbes or insects. Julia’s body had lost none of its weight, mass, or muscular tone. In fact, there almost seemed to be a rosy hue to her complexion.

  She looked like one of the more than 250 Catholic saints whose bodies were found to be in immaculate condition long after their burial. Many of them are now on public display in churches around the world.

  The Church deemed incorruptibles, as they came to be called, as proof either of divine intervention (because the Holy Spirit considered the person to be so blessed that the body’s appearance was being preserved intact for the Day of Resurrection) or of the person’s having been so pious while alive that his or her moral fortitude became permanent in the flesh, preventing its decay.

  As with the saints, there was no natural physical explanation for Julia’s wondrous state. But at long last, the deeply pious Philomena understood the meaning of her visions. Her daughter was indeed alive, but in the hands of God. Julia wanted to send her mother an undisputable sign that she’d been accepted into His eternal grace.

  Julia’s body was handled with the dignity deserving one of the Lord’s Chosen. A photograph was taken to prove the miraculous state of the remains, then the casket was carefully resealed and lowered into the ground.

  To honor Julia, Henry commissioned a life-size statue of his sister to be placed over the grave. The figure was to be carved holding a large bouquet of flowers and dressed in a nuptial gown, the veil lifted off her face and the train swept in front of her feet. The sculpture stands atop a two-tiered pedestal, with a large urn placed at each of the four corners.

  On the upper platform the words are engraved:

  FILOMENA BUCCOLA

  REMEMBRANCE OF MY

  BELOVED DAUGHTER

  JULIA, AGE 29 YEARS

  A copy of Julia’s wedding photo, after which the statue was modeled, was transferred onto porcelain and affixed to the stone in the center of the text. Another photograph was attached directly below it on the lower level of the base: a reproduction of the startling picture taken the day Julia’s casket was opened. It shows the young woman, unblemished, lying peacefully in her coffin, for all the world to see. Written around it are the words Questa fotographia presa dopo 6 anni morti : “This photograph is from six years after she died.”

  The legend of the Italian Bride (or just “The Bride,” as she’s become known) is now a part of the cemetery’s century- long history.

  So, too, is Julia’s ghost.

  Reports have circulated for years that a spectral woman clad entirely in white has manifested near Julia’s grave. Pedestrians and motorists passing by Mount Carmel Cemetery have also seen the phantom walking through the grounds wearing a glowing wedding gown, especially at night. Among those who spot her frequently are students from Proviso West High School, which is located directly across from the northeast corner of the graveyard on South Wolf Road.

  Perhaps the most touching (and at the same time unnerving) part of the story is that Julia’s apparition has been known to take the hand of any child in the cemetery who becomes lost or separated from a parent. She’ll then lead the little one out of the graveyard to safety. The spectre always disappears before the youngster can point out the nice lady who came to the rescue.

  Julia’s spirit is still there. The cemetery is worth a visit if only to see the rich statuary and ornate tombs, including the four hundred or more elaborate family mausoleums. As you pass by the marble statue of Julia Buccola Petta, be sure to pause and reflect on her unusual tale. If your timing is right, you might get a glimpse of the Italian Bride herself as she floats by.

  Chapter 5

  The Greenwood

  Hauntings

  With all the places in the world they had to choose from, who would have thought that so many ghosts would descend on the midsize Midwestern city of Decatur, Illinois? Its Greenwood Cemetery is one of the most haunted graveyards in America’s Heartland, sporting at least five individual entities, a gaggle of ghost lights, and a whole trainload of Civil War dead.

  Mia cautiously made her way along the broad pavement, keeping her baby’s stroller on an even keel. The walkway was made up of long concrete slabs, separated by small strips of grass, so she had to be careful to avoid the muddy patches where the wheels would get stuck. There had finally been a break in the weather—they were in the middle of the summer storm season—and she decided that the ground would be firm enough to go straighten up the grave.

  Mia’s mother had died the month before. Now that the tombstone was in place and the earthen mound had settled, it was time to remove the last of the faded flowers. She knew that as soon as she made one last turn on the other side of that large oak, she would be able to see the gravesite straight ahead.

  As Mia stepped out from the shade of the leafy boughs, she was surprised to see a girl, maybe eight or nine years old, standing all alone in front of her mother’s headstone. Who could she be? The youngster was quietly rearranging the baskets and bundles of carnations and lilies, now and then setting one or two off to the side. Oddly, though, she seemed to be keeping the flowers that were still in bloom for herself and leaving the dead ones on the grave.

  Mia stopped the carriage behind the girl and watched her without speaking. At first the child seemed oblivious. But then she turned and smiled.
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br />   “Your flowers are so beautiful,” the youngster said matter- of-factly. “Everyone must have loved her very much. Was she your mom?”

  Mia felt tears involuntarily begin to well up in her eyes. What the stranger had said was so direct, so guileless. How could the girl know that the grave was her mother’s?

  “You have a baby. May I hold her?”

  The unexpected request, coming so quickly after the girl’s last comments, made Mia gasp, yet somehow the child’s request seemed so innocent that she was stunned to find herself saying yes.

  Mia removed the infant from the stroller, then gently passed her to the little girl. The baby was small for her age, and the youngster was able to easily cradle her in her arms. She rocked the baby back and forth for a few moments, then carefully handed her back to Mia.

  It suddenly occurred to Mia that the three of them seemed to be alone in that section of the graveyard. She knew it wasn’t really her concern, but she was worried for the little girl.

  “Where are your parents?”

  Perhaps Mia imagined it, but a shadow seemed to fall across the young girl’s face as the wistful smile passed from her lips.

  “Oh. They don’t visit me here very much anymore. They haven’t come in a long, long time.”

  It seemed to take an eternity for the words to sink in. Had the child said what Mia thought she said? Was this unknown person standing before her, the one she had just allowed to hold her baby, a . . . a . . . ?

  As Mia stared at the girl in horror, the child’s form began to flicker, then fade. In a second, the ethereal visitor had vanished completely.

  To this day, it’s said that the apparition of a friendly little girl can be seen throughout Greenwood Cemetery, asking to hold people’s babies, purloining flowers, following guests around the memorial park, or waving to them as they head to their cars. And she’s not the only ghost on the grounds.