When I was still a child, my parents and I used to go to my paternal grandfather who lived on the east side of Detroit (we lived on the northwest side). He lost his wife in the early 1970s, so it was important we visit. We would come each Saturday, and stay the whole day--much to my chagrin as a young, playful child (old people's homes are so-ooo boring!). By the time we headed home, it was often dark. And we often passed Mount Olivet cemetery. Passing the cemetery used to bother me, especially after dark. But I soon got used to it, thankfully. But this one time we passed at night, I saw two cloaked figures in the cemetery. They looked perhaps like two nuns I thought, but I didn't say anything at the time. And they looked like they were standing by one grave, just gazing down at it mournfully.

 

The street we were on was fairly crowded, even for night. So I was sure other people must've seen it too. But when I brought up the subject later, my mother said that it was impossible--no one would be in the cemetery at that time of night. I asked other people and some of my friends and neighbors, and they agreed too. No one would be allowed in the cemetery after dark. So who were these two mysterious cloaked figures then? I wonder to this day. (BTW, I presently don't believe in an afterlife--but ironically still love ghost stories.)

 

 

James  B.

Detroit, MI