#Greenwood cemetery

[littlequeenies]

Greenwood cemetery, Brooklyn

12-21-2024, 4 PM

[esther-on-fire]

greenwood cemetery on slide film

[resnihil]

I'm in New Orleans for a couple of days which means a bunch of graveyard pics and other such vacation shenanigans are on tap.

[swforester]

What got you into photographing gravestones?

Boy that's the question. I saw your question a couple of weeks ago? But I couldn't answer it because it's complex. I think my parents might have been interested in old cemeteries and they may have even done grave rubbings. I did grave rubbings for awhile but I stopped because I learned they can damage old gravestones. I started to love the art on old graves. Then I realized I could capture the art without harming the grave just by taking a picture. That was the seed. It grew into a mission to photograph as many burial grounds and cemeteries as I can. And I love to photograph so much more. Ruins. Old cars. The sky. Clouds. Autumn. Angels and Demons has been around for 9 years now. During that time I've seen so much beauty and have learned so much about the ancient customs of death. OK I'm rambling so I'll stop now. Thanks for the question! Take care-

[manwalksintobar]

Sirens // Tina Cane

I.

I’ve been meaning to tell you that the skin around her eyes was thin

with blue veins fanning out like ferns     that she was pale for a Puerto Rican

and that she spit and threw change at my feet as I waited to cross the street

to tell you that I wouldn’t let her man take me for hot dogs at the Second Avenue Deli

or to Jade Mountain for pork fried rice     that I knew what a hat like that meant

to say    his diamond crucifix the way he swayed his coat     flicked sunflower seeds

from between his teeth     strutting behind the line of parked cars     I’ve been meaning

to tell you that the parking lot on the corner was not always a dorm     that once I saw her

bloodied and on her back beside a car      that two kids laughed pulling rings off her fingers

as she squinted in the sun     that I put my backpack on both shoulders     readied my key

that I ran from the sound of the sirens

II.

To tell you my dad drove a cab for forty years     kept a red bean he got

from an Ethiopian guy in the back pocket of his Levi’s to ward off hemorrhoids

that he wrote me notes throughout the night on the margins of his fare sheet     stuff

like  “eat yogurt for osteoporosis”     that he listened to Tosca for another life in which

he didn’t have his foot on any pedal     didn’t ever have to chase a punkass kid to get his

money back then end up buying the kid a sandwich      to tell you that he was a Jewish guy

from Brooklyn     what the fuck he’d pound the wheel     cut off cut short     another Brooklyn

fare     not going back there with no return trip over the bridge     to tell you that he drove

like a pro back when the medallion itself was a thing of beauty     deco-like     clicking

its nickel intervals with approximate precision     the weight of it enough to crush

just about anything

III.

I’ve been meaning to tell you that my mother and father once fought

for fifty hours straight in our basement apartment off Second Avenue

that the table fan was set to oscillate as they worked their way through

recriminations     cups of coffee     a carton of Marlboros     that my mother

tossed a day’s worth of meals into her flashing wok at hasty intervals

as my father paced the room     been meaning to tell you that the girls

on the block scraped pavement in their platform shoes like weights just outside

our one gated window     that we often heard Peaches the transvestite weeping

about a Hasid john from Delancey Street or a guy from Staten Island who liked

to rip out her hair     meaning to tell you that they made the movie Taxi Driver

right around the corner the year before     that I thought my dad might have been in it

since he drove a cab     had also been an actor     was once a bartender down on Bleecker St.

that he said I was too young to see such a film and about Saturday Night Fever

my mother said definitely not

IV.

That there was a Nordic Track bought in 1996 still in its box

blocking the way to the coat rack on which my dad hung his London Fog

$3,000 in its pocket for me to collect     as he had requested from his hospital bed     plus stacks of cash

from the safe deposit box    from under his mattress and the Polly-O Ricotta container in the freezer

beside the Eddy’s Light Ice Cream and empty ice tray     been meaning to tell you there was $30,000

in my purse by the end of the day     to tell you that I tried to buy a giant stuffed peacock from a shop

on Christopher St. the day he died     but ended up lugging a duffel bag of twenties to Greenwood

Cemetery instead to purchase a plot for him on the hillI’ve been meaning to tell you that cash

is how a cabbie’s daughter pays her father’s bills     to tell you there was a wall of books by his bed

a broken shutter on a split hinge     piles of newspaper clippings to be filed per a system that didn’t exist

that he left his hack license on the bed-stand with the pocket knife we gave him     the carnelian ring

the paper birthday crown my children made     and made him wear buried in plush animals on the carpet

in their room     that there was a rucksack of photos and mementos from his old friend Wallach

when my dad cleared out his place but never had the wake     to tell you that he never

even opened the bag after humping it up the stairs     just talked to Wallach in his head

every day till the end     about the girl in those photos     about articles he should have read (via Tupelo Quarterly)

[outofeverythingthisnamewasleft]

[mileuri]

[yourdailysketch]

[coff33-stained]

Greenwood Cemetery

It has been the home to over 60,000 Corpses over the span of 170 years ⚰️ It's no wonder why people claim to have seen and heard eerie things here. Greenwood Cemetery is located in Hamilton, Ohio and offers a beautiful green landscape as a final resting spot. 


People Report seeing a man horseback riding through the cemetery and sightings of shadow figures. People also claim to hear people talking, whispering and laughter when no one is around.

[letsgethaunted]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Let's Get Haunted (@letsgethaunted)

Welcome to the photo dump for Episode 170.5: Listener Stories #25! This is the episode where our Haunties (aka listeners) write in with their first-person spooky tales of cryptids, ghosts, curses, aliens, and more! Listener stories from this week’s episode include: a funeral ghost, a tarot reading from beyond, a crouched sleep demon that resembles the girl from The Ring, a grinch hand coming out of a closet, mirror portals, accidentally phasing into an alternate dimension for a year, shadow people with crow voices, a haunted jail hostel, lucid dreaming with a Bangungot, a salon ghost, and a spirit caught in a .gif. Some of the listeners whose stories are featured in this episode include: Justin S., Alanna “A.J.” S., Brett C., Charlotte S., Izzy P, Matt L., Carolina P., Nancy aka “NSA”, Joshua S., & Genevieve F.!  Scroll through this photo dump to see key images from this week’s episode! IMAGE 01: WELCOME TO OUR FIRST LISTENER STORY OF THE YEAR!!! This one’s a doozy, with Nat freaking herself out and Aly spiraling per usual. IMAGE 02: The Triskele or Triskelion is a mesmerizing symbol formed by three interlocking spirals connected in the center. The design is deeply rooted in Celtic culture, and has many meanings. This is the symbol referenced in the story from Alanna aka “AJ” who told the story of the time she switched dimensions for a year. IMAGE 03: Image from the haunted Ottawa Jail Hostel that listener Charlotte stayed in. IMAGE 04: Image #2 of the haunted Ottawa Jail Hostel IMAGE 05: Image #3 of the haunted Ottawa Jail Hostel IMAGE 06: Image #4 of the haunted Ottawa Jail Hostel IMAGE 07: Image #5 of the haunted Ottawa Jail Hostel IMAGE 08: The bangungot, referenced in the e-mail from Joshua S. IMAGE 09: Another image of a bangungot IMAGE 10: The ghost of Greenwood Cemetery, as captured in an iPhone gif by listener Genevieve F.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[David Nola Photography] [Greenwood Cemetery, New Orleans.]

* * * *

"Remember that Lent and Ash Wednesday are not just about putting away the bad things. It is more about creating good things and helping the poor and the needy, being kind to people, and much more." 

- Jacob Winters

[myhauntedsalem]

The Haunted 1000 Steps at Greenwood Cemetery

According to local legend, the staircase at the Greenwood Cemetery in Spokane, Washington is more than just a little haunted. If you walk up the stairs without any lights on, you will see the faces of men, women and children when you reach the top. Those brave enough to climb the stairs will also hear the shrieks and cries of the dead and they will feel something to rain on their skin.

Supposedly the site of satanic rituals, the staircase was dubbed 1000 steps because nobody can make it to the top according to the legend. The stairs lead from the side of an access road up to the cemetery. Renovations made years ago have rendered the staircase unnecessary and it sits decaying and rarely used by standard visitors stopping to spend time with the cemetery’s residents.

A second tale about the staircase leads people to believe the steps once led to a tunnel entrance. Though this isn’t true, it’s easy to see why people who simply drive by the cemetery might think as such. There’s a large mausoleum at the top of the stairs in disrepair that, from a distance and looking through overgrowth, could appear to be a bricked-over tunnel entrance.

[esther-on-fire]

greenwood cemetery

[wanderingnewyork]

Memorials and trees in #Green_Wood_Cemetery, #Brooklyn.

[rockhyrax]

Encounters after midnight.

[warner-york]

GOTHIC GREEN WOOD . . .