Grave with a View

At the Evergreen Cemetery in New Haven, Vermont, there is a mound of earth that at first glance seems to be just a landscaping error. If you make your way to the top of the mound though, you will see a small window embedded in the ground. Brush the dirt and leaves away from that window and you will be staring face-to-face with a dead man.

In the late 1800s, Timothy Clark Smith was a world traveler with the U.S. Foreign Service. During his long career, he saw many hideous things and heard stories of terrible things some unlucky souls endured. Several of those stories were of people being buried alive. During those pre-embalming days, it wasn't as rare as you may think. Because of this, he developed a terrible fear of suffering the same fate. 

On Halloween night in 1893, Mr. Smith suddenly died in Middlebury, Vermont of unknown reasons. His corpse was transported to New Haven's Evergreen Cemetery for burial. There, a special grave had been prepared for him. In that strange mound of earth, Mr. Smith was buried with his face positioned beneath a cement tube that led to the surface. The tube was covered with a 14x14 inch of plate glass. In the corpse's hand they placed a bell that he could ring should he wake up and find himself the victim of a premature burial. 

If you visit the cemetery, keep very quiet... and listen.

Buried Alive

A universal fear of all humans, a fear that crosses distance and different languages, is the fear of being buried alive. In the early 1800s, Samuel Jocelyn lived in Wilmington, North Carolina. As the son of a well-respected local lawyer, Sam enjoyed a great amount of respect himself. The young man was best friends with another young man named Alexander Hostler. The two men shared many interests and were always seen together.

During a discussion one day with a group of friends, the idea arose of returning from death and making your presence known. While the rest of the group laughed at the idea, Sam and Alexander both defended it. While discussing the matter later, a deal was struck between the two men that the first one to die would come back and make his presence known to the other. They would not have to wait long.

Sam loved horses and had a stable of fine steeds. He found great pleasure in taking to the wooded trails on one of his fine horses and forget any troubles. One afternoon as Sam was out for a ride, tragedy struck. No one knows what happened, but Sam was found unresponsive in the middle of a trail near his home, his horse a few yards away grazing.

He was taken back home where everything medical science had to offer was tried in an attempt to wake the boy from his coma, but it proved to be no use. Two days later, Sam Jocelyn was declared dead and was buried in St. James Church cemetery. The funeral was a massive event with hundreds of people from the area in attendance.

Alexander was beside himself after his friend's death. Many thought he might die of grief. As Alexander lay in bed two nights after Sam's burial, a ghostly vision suddenly appeared. It was his friend Sam. "How could you let me be buried when I am not yet dead?" the ghost asked Alexander. Horrified both by what he saw and the prospect of burying his dearest friend alive, Alexander stuttered "Not dead?". "No, I was not. Open the coffin and you will see that I am not in the same position you buried me in." And with that, the ghost of Sam Jocelyn faded away.

The next morning Alexander doubted that what he saw was real. Through the day as he thought about it, he decided it was nothing more than grief that had caused him to imagine the ghost. That night saw the ghost of Sam Jocelyn come back though and once again ask of his friend "How could you let me be buried when I am not yet dead?" This time the spirit's tone was more urgent, begging even.

Alexander then realized that what he saw was real, but afraid of people thinking him insane, he decided to say nothing. Not until the third night anyway when the ghost of Sam appeared again. This time the ghost pleaded with the living Alexander "How could you let me be buried when I am not yet dead?" Alexander decided right then to investigate the claims of the spirit as the ghost slowly vanished into nothingness.

The next morning, Alexander found his other friend, Louis Toomer, and told him everything. Toomer agreed to help Alexander only because he thought it might save what was left of Alexander's sanity. They went to Sam's family and sought permission to dig up his casket. Seeing how upset Alexander was, they agreed, but with the stipulation it be done in private. 

Late that night, Toomer and Alexander snuck into the St. James cemetery with shovels and began to remove the still fresh earth from the grave. Before long, their shovels met with the coffin. They opened the lid and lowered a lantern. There in the coffin was Sam, but as the ghost had said, he was not in the position they had placed him in. He was face down. Deep scratches were on the inside of the casket and the struggling, no doubt terrified young man had managed to loosen one side of the lid. Death had not come from the accident on the road, but suffocation from being buried alive.

Until the day he died just a year later, Alexander Hostler would sit in front of the grave of his friend all night muttering over and over "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm sorry, I didn't know".

Buried Alive!

Being buried alive is a fear which is as old as the custom of burying the dead. Writers such as Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe have written of it. Horror films starring Vincent Price and Boris Karloff have frightened viewers for years. Folklore is full of tales of narrow escapes and of exhumed coffins containing corpses with broken stubs of fingers, hair pulled out by the fistful  and faces frozen in screaming terror as some poor unfortunate soul was buried prematurely and woke up to realize the horrible fate to which they were doomed. Most of these tales are simply that, tales of imagination, tales told from people's fear. But in one case, one woman's fear of being buried alive became a horrific fact.

In the early 1700's, Edinburgh had become known around the world for the advanced medical studies of the human anatomy being conducted there. Doctoral students were assigned one body each to dissect and practice their studies upon. There was also a constant need for bodies to be used by teachers as visual aids. At first, the bodies were of executed criminals and there were enough to fill the demand, but as more and more students were enrolled in the physician program, the demand for bodies became more than the supply. Soon, enterprising individuals began the lucrative business of filling that need by "body snatching" - the illegal digging up and stealing of the reasonably fresh bodies of the recently dearly departed. And if the body happened to have been buried with valuables, well, the ghouls who made a career of body snatching were certainly not above adding grave robbing to their "resurrectionist" resume.

Shankill Graveyard

In 1705 a lady by the name of Margorie McCall lived in Lurgan. She was the wife of John, a successful surgeon, and lived the rather privileged life her husband's profession afforded. Then one day, Margorie contracted a fever and after several days, despite her husbands best efforts, her condition deteriorated and she died. As was common during that time in an effort to curb the spread of the fever, a wake was quickly arranged and burial arrangements were made. During the afternoon wake, a number of people commented on the very expensive ring she wore on her finger in the coffin, but her husband explained that due to her illness, her finger had swollen making it impossible to remove. She was buried in the Shankill Graveyard that evening.

After darkness fell that very same night, just several hours after internment, by the dim light of a small sliver of moon, 2 grave robbers began their grizzly task of digging up Margorie's body. The dirt was still loose so the digging proceeded quickly. Upon uncovering the coffin and prying open the lid, the robbers were happy to see the body was indeed fresh and the expensive ring was still on Margorie's finger. The thieves tried to pull the ring from her finger, but due to the swollen condition, it wouldn't budge so, figuring the dead wouldn't mind, they decided to simply severe the finger. Producing a knife from his pocket, one of the men made a deep cut into the ring finger. With that first drawing of blood, Margorie revived from her coma, sat straight up in her coffin, opened her eyes wide and while staring at the astonished would-be thieves, screamed like a hound from hell!

It was later rumored that 2 very frightened, dirty, stinking men entered a bar several miles from the graveyard. Nobody would go near them as it was obvious by sight and smell their bowels had failed them and the pants they wore were destined for the trash heap. They told their story to the barkeep and after several strong drinks which they gulped down, hastily left and were never seen in the area afterwards.

(BBC photo of Margorie's grave)

Back at the cemetery, Margorie climbed out of her grave and walked back to her home several blocks away. Her husband and children were gathered around the fireplace, together in their sorrow, when they heard a knock at the front door. John, wracked with grief, said, "If your mother were still alive, I'd swear that was her knock." Upon opening the door, he found his late wife standing there in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her cut finger, but still very much alive. Unfortunately, the shock was too much for his heart and he dropped dead on the spot. Two days later, he was buried in the grave that was originally intended to forever hold his wife.

Margorie survived her ordeal, eventually remarried and had several more children. When she finally died for good, her body was again buried in the Shankill graveyard. A tombstone reads, "Margorie McCall - Lived Once. Buried Twice"