Two strange stories about what should be the most peaceful place, but which turns out to be everything but.
Savannah Cemetery has a history of strange hauntings, but there was a place that was to be avoided at all costs.
On the road between East New Castle and Savannah Cemetery roads, around 1880, a solider in the German Army met another to settle a score with a duel He received a saber wound so close to his brain that even though he survived his mind became deranged. One day he shot himself through the heart. He chose a spot under the spreading branches of a white oak tree, and a large stone which he sat upon when he committed the act had marks of blood upon it. The man's hat and shoes were buried directly under the tree, however they would continuously be uncovered by unseen hands, no matter how many times the items were reburied.
The blood-marked stone and the tree always was recognized as having an uncanny atmosphere about it.
The years went by and twice the white oak was struck by lightening. It was badly shattered by the first strike, and then split in two and destroyed with the second hit. Some thought that once the tree was gone, which had acted as a marker for the unhappy spirit of the German soldier, he would move on, but many were not so sure.
Reported in June 1919
The Grave Digger's Story
Reported to a Philadelphia Press reporter in 1882
This reporter interviewed a grave-digger who told of all the hypocrisy he had seen in the course of his job. He then went on to retell his own story.
He said, "I feel talkative today, and I know grief. Great God! Do I not? Walk a little with me."
They walked to an area of the cemetery near the river walk. He pointed to a plain slab marked only with initials and a date.
He continued his story:
There lies my past my present and my future. Thirty-five years ago I was a doctor with a rising practice, and she who lies there was to have been my wife. One June evening we saw each other for the last time, but we little thought so then. I was going on a fortnight's journey, and when I returned we were to be married, and that evening we were arranging all the particulars for the wedding. She was the picture of health, and her parting words to me were: 'James, I am glad you are going away for awhile, I shall try and get thinner; look how fat my arms are.'
He paused, knelt down and kissed the tombstone, and once more he became the cynical grave digger.
Stranger Than Fiction Stories by M.P. Pellicer