Randomness of the Day: Mike and Ike's
Location: Preparing for Slumber
Mood: Cheerful
Listening To: The Sound of Silence (no really, there's no music or anything!)
It's October, traditionally, my happiest, and busiest month. I've been on leave from work for the past couple of weeks, and am not due back for a couple more. I've needed the time, and not altogether sure I don't need more.
So what does October bring? Well, around here, it can be either snow, or green grass, depending on natures mood. It conjures images of leaves on the ground, trees then are obviously becoming more bare. Cooler nights, heavy mists, and maybe graveyards?
It's been a few weeks since we've done any research in the cemeteries. What I think I'm going to do...and forgive me if I don't get to it, is start a series on graveyards, that I've visited or heard stories of.
Let's not procrastinate on this, let me start with a cemetery near and dear to my heart.
Bachelor's Grove.
In a quiet suburb of Chicago, along a dilapidated trail, is an all but forgotten cemetery. I think the last burial there was in the early 80's, but even by then it was something of a local legend.
There have been tales of a mysterious house, that appears at the end of the road, and vanishes as you approach it. Rumour has it, that if you manage to set foot on the first step leading up to the porch, you will never leave. At least that's what it was when I was a kid. :)
Another story is of a mysterious light, that hovers over the pond to the north beside the road. The orb lifts up, and then hovers over graves visiting the dead.
Still another story is of Monks, guarding the graveyard. They astral forms freezing and terrifying unsuspecting midnight prowlers.
The first time I went, no one would tell me why we were going to this particular place. Even though I was born in Chicago, I didn't live there from the ages of 4 to 15, so at 17 when I started hanging out with the cool kids, I hadn't heard the stories. So we park about 1/2 mile away, and hike back. The trail leading up to the cemetery had been chained closed. No problem for nimble teenagers. As soon as I crossed the barrier, the hairs rose up on the back of my neck. A sure sign that I probably shouldn't be there. But me being me, I went along. Well, my friends thought it would be great fun to take off and leave me on the trail, as they ran up ahead.
It was like a scene out of a horror flick. Lone guy, walking down this trail towards an unknown cemetary at midnight. It was a scene complete with fog. Of course we had no flashlights, that would have alerted people to the fact that we were there. I kept walking down the path, there really wasn't a way I could veer off of it, there were trees on either side. Walk into a tree, you know you're not on the path anymore. LOL
Anyways, about 50 yards down the path, it gets very quiet. Ha ha, my friends are going to jump out at me at any moment...very funny guys.
Nothing, more silence, and it's getting darker because the trees are getting thicker. Gulp...I'm in control, I've seen strange sights since I was a child, I can do this.
I walked along further, pushing myself past the creepy feelings, and the pressure in my chest. Finally I get to the fence that surrounds the cemetery. It's chain link, and I can make out some of the broken stones. My first thought was disgust that people had broken the stones, my second thought was...what the heck was I doing out here, and where was everybody?
I made it up to the gate, and there they are, standing in front of it. I asked why no one had gone in, and they replied..."oh we don't go in there, the druids will get you...and then there's old Fulton, he doesn't like anyone."
I looked at them like they had 6 heads each. Druids guarding a cemetery, and some crazy old guy who doesn't like people. (Note my friends called them druids, others have called them monks. I prefer the Druid story)
Anyways, I had walked all the way down here, and I was drawn to the place. They didn't want to go in, but I didn't see the point in not going in. In for a penny in for a pound. We were already trespassing, it was after curfew, we were illegally parked...I didn't think one more thing on the list could hurt. So I went in. I've always had great respect for graves and the spirits of those that haven't moved on yet. My cousins and I used to ride our bikes in a cemetery by their house when I'd visit in the summer. It was safer than being on the street. I loved old stones, and I loved the general sense of peace.
Bachelor's Grove gave me anything but. I got that prickly feeling on my neck again, and nausea. No again, I say you can believe what I write or not, it's up to you.
I took about 20 steps in, and stopped. I was rooted to the ground, and started sweating. Now, I should note here, that at 17, I was not given to flights of fancy, what others said, didn't really affect me on a level that I was freaking out because of what they had told me. The place just didn't feel right. I looked to my right, and there was a really large tree that I hadn't seen when I first walked in. I made my legs listen to my brain finally, and moved into it's shadow. It was the only thing in the immediate area that didn't give me the creeps.
I stayed under there for a couple of minutes, and finally was able to make it back out.
When I got onto the other side of the gate, I was relieved. My friends were stunned that I had gone in there. Honestly, I think they were surprised I was able to make it out. One of them decided to give it a try, and didn't make it 2 feet in before turning back around.
That was the first of my many visits. I went back at night, I went back during the day. I always tried to clear debris away when I could. Over time the feelings grew less and less unnerving. Either they were getting used to me, or I was just becoming immune to the sense of creepiness. I gotta tell you, even during the day, that place was not a bright sunshiny kinda place to be.
And so ends tonight's tale.
Ciao
