“Want to know the most haunted cemetery in America?” the book asked, written by Ed and Lorraine Warren, famous married ghosthunters. I immediately felt sorry for those who lived near that graveyard. Can you imagine having to drive past this place, especially late at night? Then I read on.
The most haunted cemetery in America is Union Cemetery, literally one mile from my Connecticut home. I’ve been driving by it for much of my life. And yes, it even has an infamous ghost.
The White Lady.
Nighttime “sightings” of The White Lady began in the late 1940’s by motorists, residents, and even police officers. Several incidents reported a ghostly woman stepping in front of a car, causing the driver to suddenly hit the brakes and swerve. The woman is always described as wearing a long white Victorian-style dress, possibly a wedding gown. She has long dark hair and sometimes wears a white bonnet. She always disappears.
Union Cemetery is an ancient burial ground, dating back to the 1700’s with the oldest headstone belonging to Ebenezer Hubbell, 1761. I can’t imagine all the lives and stories this ground holds.
Many theories abound about The White Lady. Some believe she was a young bride named Harriet Seeley Bryan who died in 1836, nine days after her wedding. Not accepting her youthful demise, she now haunts the area.
In 1993, an off-duty fire fighter coming home late at night, feared that he may have hit a woman dressed in white that suddenly appeared in front of his car. He went out to check, but found nothing, except a front dent that wasn’t there before.
Decades ago, I’d drive by Union Cemetery on my way home from the late shift at Friendly’s Ice Cream in Westport. In my late teens, I’d approach Union cemetery warily and turn up the radio playing the local college rock station. I’d look straight ahead as I sped past, not daring to glance to my left, at the graveyard. I didn’t know about the White Lady then. I’m glad I didn’t. The graveyard was spooky enough.
The other night I had to drive by Union Cemetery after dark. It was a typical spooky October evening. Falling leaves blew around, illuminated by my car’s headlights. The moon hung big and yellow. As I approached the graveyard, I turned on the radio for distraction. Only instead of listening to a college rock station, I had on a podcast about organic gardening.
Starting to drive past, I couldn’t help glancing to the left. There stood the infamous Union Cemetery, shadowy in the moonlight, with endless rows of markers. A white mist clung to everything. I couldn’t help wondering: Could that fog be construed as a white lady? Does she really exist? Or is she merely a product of our overfed human imaginations?
We’ll never know.
I kept driving and thanked the White Lady for not paying me a visit. I’d rather not be part of her legend.
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