The Green Lady Cemetery

In Burlington, Connecticut, there is a very old cemetery commonly known as The Green Lady Cemetery. According to local folklore, long ago a woman was murdered by her husband and she was buried in this cemetery in the woods. Some of our high-school friends would go to the cemetery at night, using it as a secluded place to make out in their cars. Several kids reported seeing a ghostly, semi-transparent woman in an eerie green mist of light, walking among the gravestones. One summer night, my friend Chris and I decided to go to the cemetery to check it out for ourselves. Chris had a motorcycle and I rode on the back of it. We were driving down the dirt road in the woods, approaching the cemetery when, as soon as we passed the old stone wall that marked the boundary of the cemetery, the motorcycle stalled out and died. The lights on the bike wouldn't work anymore either. Chris tried to re-start it several times but it wouldn’t start again. No matter, we were close enough, so we just walked it the last couple hundred feet and parked it. Walking into the cemetery with our flashlights, we began to examine and read the headstones, some of which went back nearly 200 years. I found one old stone with a memorable inscription. It said: “Here, come brethren dear, whose union has been my fervent prayer. Hold fast the truth, instruct the youth, and thus for death prepare. All you who read these lines take heed, while you have life and breath. Seek Christ the Way, His calls obey, and thus prepare for death.” As the night grew later, it also grew cooler and soon there was a mist creeping into the cemetery from the surrounding, swampy woods. We decided that the mist was sort of creepy so we wanted to get out of there. We went back to the motorcycle, where Chris tried over and over again, unsuccessfully, to start it. Still, none of the lights on the bike would work. We were becoming a bit panicked that his usually reliable motorcycle was having such unexplainable trouble. Finally we decided to push the motorcycle down the dirt road – anything to get away from that cemetery. Every 50 feet or so, Chris would try to start the bike again, but it just wouldn’t start. As soon as we got the bike just past the stone wall boundary of the cemetery, Chris tried again and the motorcycle started right up and all the lights worked with no problem. I jumped on the back and we got out of there as fast as we could!

Scroll down to see the next story. When you get to the bottom of the page, click on "Previous" to see the previous set of stories.