On cemetery walks, the spirits will talk.


I feel like when you ask for a sign, internally or outwardly, someone is listening… and someone will answer.

Flashback to one of the creepiest moments I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing in my life… This was the moment, for me, when I finally believed that ghosts exist.

When I lived in Maine, I frequented this beautiful cemetery to satisfy my photography cravings, and for its silence that I feasted on like a junkie. There’s something so euphoric about being in a cemetery… It’s like being in a library- people just know that when you’re there, the atmosphere requires “peace and quiet”.

On this day, camera in hand, I walked the miles of paths I’d come to memorize, and was thankful that I still found so many things to take pictures of… Like I was seeing this place for the first time all over again.


When I was nearing the end of my trip on this day, I started thinking about some of the people who’s graves I was photographing… What they & their families were like, what their hobbies were… and even how they died, seeing as how many of the deaths occurred in the early 1800s. Times were so different back then… you just never know.

I came across an area of land and stones I must have overlooked the many times I’d come to the cemetery, and again, my thoughts were on the people who rested beneath the soil. One grave, in particular, stood out to me. I felt drawn to it. It was nothing special or out of the ordinary, but it was clearly newer than all the surrounding stones. There was a name, DOB-DOD and nothing else, which I found odd. Most of the newer stones, even some really old ones, at least had a quote that related to the deceased, but there was nothing. This is, perhaps, why I felt the need to stand there for awhile longer, thinking about that person and their life. I also felt that I shouldn’t take a photo of this particular grave… I’m not sure why, I just got the feeling that I shouldn’t.

This teen was 16 when they died.

Given the date of death, having been in the 2000s, I really started to borderline obsess about how this person died. Were they sick? Did someone hurt them? I felt terrible for this life, taken far too soon. At which point I had the urge to look down… Something in my head just said look…

There on the ground, right in front of my feet, lay this little tag. When I read it, I was covered head-to-toe in goosebumps.

I truly feel like I was being spoken to by this teenager who died too young. In an age when there are cures for many sicknesses, medicines and procedures to fix the ailing, it is such a waste of life to be killed in a completely preventable way. I felt like it was a sign, saying to me, “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid that can ruin your life, look at what happened to me. I’m just looking out for you.”

I am not 100% sure that this tag had anything to do with this particular grave, but I will say that I have never again texted while driving. I also have never again experienced the same kind of presence that I felt on that day, or any other presence for that matter. That doesn’t mean it won’t happen again, though. I will forever wonder if perhaps this teenager prevented something awful from happening to me. If I hadn’t seen this sign that day, would I would have gotten into my vehicle to head home, texted someone, and been killed in a crash? Even though nothing happened to me, I feel grateful to this person, whoever it was, for putting that thought into my head and keeping me safe from myself.

I hope to one day feel the presence of another spirit, and pray that they’ll have something equally as important and life changing to teach me.