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© 2005 - Sue (private)

Sent in via email October 16, 2005

I first went to Bachelor's Grove Cemetery back in 1980. There used to be a path that ran alongside of the brook that you could get to by parking your car on 143rd St and crossing over the ditch on foot. It's just past the lagoon. It would take you right on the water's edge and lead you to the dip in the brook where you have to cross over on the stepping stones that lead to the graveyard.

On this occasion, I made it about 50 feet into the woods with three other people. It was in the middle of summer and the night was warm. Probably in the upper 70's because we didn't need jackets. Not so in the woods, though. It was very cold in there. We had one flashlight that was rather small. I was overcome with an intense feeling of being watched and felt as if we were walking into some kind of trap. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were not alone. I was trembling so hard and remember realizing that there was no sound other than the brook babbling. No bug sounds, nothing. The bushes on the right hand side of us seemed to be filled with many unknown presenses and colorless eyes that I would have to call "diabolical". They couldn't feel anything but I refused to go further and made the group turn around. Even when we got back to the car parked on the side of the highway, I didn't feel safe until we were miles away. They made fun of me the whole drive home.

The second time we went it was in early November of the same year. I was determined to get past my silly fear of the place. This time I went with my fiance and a very large friend of his, whose size gave me a measure of comfort. We again took the forgotten path into the woods. The mist was everywhere as we got closer to the brook crossing, and we had a small bit of moonlight so we didn't take a flashlight with us. I couldn't see my feet because the mist was so thick and had to fumble around for the stepping stones. I remember almost falling into the water. And again, there was a deathly silence past the sounds of the running water. The gate to the graveyard was locked but we stopped and looked in briefly. It was smothered in the mist but I could make out a stone or two. I made a point of looking all around to make sure there was no one else there that night. The guys didn't seem to be phased but I asked if we could leave because the cold was unbearable. Then they started walking down the old drive back toward the highway. It was about 2:00 a.m. on a Sunday night. About 30 feet or so down the road I began to hear people whispering in the brush next to us on our left. It sounded like several different voices. I told my fiance and his friend about it but they didn't hear anything. I heard it again and started to shake. I just wanted to get out of there again. My fiance told me to calm down because he was sure there were more ghosthunters that would be passing us on the road out and that's all I was hearing. But what he didn't understand was that it was coming from in the woods and not from the drive. As we walked, the whispers sounded to me like they were following alongside us, never getting closer or further away. I could not understand anything the voices were saying, though. When we made it to the chained off entranceway, there was no one to be found. It then returned to a feeling of normalcy and warmth, and when I looked back down the road that leads in, I felt like a door was being shut behind us.

Twenty-three years later, I returned with my two children and my daughter's friend. (ages 20, 15 & 16) This time we went during the day and there were about ten other people in there all going around the grave stones taking pictures. I showed my children where we had crossed over the brook decades before and my son said he wanted to venture further into the woods on the other side. (By the way, the old path we used a long time ago is overgrown but I still remember where it is, if anyone's interested.) He told me to follow him when he returned some 15 minutes later. We found an old well (be careful you don't fall into it). It's pretty full of boulders and rocks that people have obviously thrown in over the years. Continue on the path and your feet soon step onto old cobblestones imbedded into the ground. There's also a place off to the right that has all the earmarkings of an old root cellar. They're barely visible but they're there! Then we came to a clearing about the size of a house. It was then I noticed what appeared to be a drive at one time. How could I tell? The old trees on either side were perfectly spaced and aligned. They were planted there on purpose. I wonder if this is where so many people see the light coming from or if it's where they see the phantom house? This area contained no fearful feelings for me. It didn't feel sinister like the lagoon/graveyard area but this house had a big connection to whatever's going on there, that I could say. Maybe it was a farm house or maybe it belonged to the caretaker of the cemetery.

Anyone who's truly interested in conducting paranormal research should consider this area of the woods as well. And taking a look at an old plat of survey would probably be very interesting. I've also heard the rumors that back in the 20's, the mob would get rid of their executed bodies back in the woods or in the lagoon. True or not, it is the perfect place for such dark deeds.

BGC Survivor

ARCHIVE NOTATION:  Voice whispering is heard at this location and is continuously heard on the old Midlothian Turnpike while walking east toward 143rd Street.