The day had arrived and tonight I would be taking a walking tour of Greenwood Cemetery. Gorgeous Greenwood was a fascinating place that meant different things for different people. Firstly, it was a silent splendid cemetery where families of the interred could come to mourn the dead. In 1776 the Battle of Brooklyn was fought in part on Battle Hill on the high grounds of the future Greenwood Cemetery. About 60 revolutionary war soldiers are buried in Greenwood cemetery. There are also about 5200 Civil War soldiers buried there. Most of those soldiers are from the union army with about 75 confederate soldiers also buried there. Today there are 562,000 people buried in Greenwood cemetery and the institution never affiliated with any particular religion, all are welcome. The cemetery open to the public in 1838. Up until this time, the people in Manhattan, who passed away, were buried on the grounds of their place of worship, but with the ever expanding population of Manhattan, this became impractical as burial sites were depleted. Slowly, the idea of a rural cemetery took root and in May 1883 with the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge, Greenwood became much more accessible to the public.
Greenwood is in an accredited Arboretum visited by many naturalist, gardeners, and geology buffs to learn its natural history. Thousands of species of birds and insects use the cemetery as a place to rest on their migratory journeys and for pollination. Art students come to see the cemeteries, beautiful architecture and sculptures. People interested in history find interest in the many famous people buried there among the 562,000 residents.
As late afternoon approached, I stopped in at THE HONG KONG GARDENS a local Chinese restaurant for dinner and after I finished my meal, I opened my complementary fortune cookie and found a strange cryptic message within which said, BE WARY OF VISITING AT NIGHT. I did not give it much thought as these treats were handed out randomly to whomever came into the eatery for a meal.
I had purchased the required flashlight for the walking tour along with extra batteries, just in case, and drove to Greenwood Cemetery luckily finding parking a block away from the main entrance. A beautiful brownstone arched entrance welcomed the visitors onto the grounds. I arrived at 4:30 PM and it was already starting to get dark as it was October 31st. Many visitors were leaving the cemetery as a long caravan of cars were exiting the gate. At 5 PM the gates would be locked and only our walking tour and the tour guide would remain in the cemetery.
Our walking tour started at 5:30 PM after a brief introduction with cautionary rules, delivered soberly by Pam, our guide, repeatedly telling us to stay with the group and not wander off on our own. It was easy to lose one’s way on the many, winding labyrinthine twists and turns of the 470 acres of the mournful maze. The sites we visited were too numerous to list but they included DO-HUM-ME the daughter of SAC a Native American chief, and the artist Louis Comfort Tiffany who made such beautiful stained-glass art during his lifetime. We visited DeWitt Clinton, the New York City mayor, state, senator and governor of New York State. Near Battle Hill, not far from the statue of Minerva commemorating the Battle of Brooklyn, was the grave of Leonard Bernstein, the talented composer and conductor who died in 1990. We stopped at the tombstone of William “BOSS” Tweed the New York City mayor who had a huge plot, funded with his ill-gotten gains from the notorious Tammany Hall corruption scandal. Next, we dropped in on William McAllister, a high Society taste maker of the Gilded Age, who coined the term “THE 400” referring to the social elites of his acquaintance. We also visited Peter Cooper the philanthropist and inventor. We stopped by John Lafarge, the stain glass innovator and Henry Bergh founder of the ASPCA. By chance we came across Frank Morgan Wupperman the actor who portrayed “The Wizard” in the 1939 film THE WIZARD OF OZ. James Renwick Junior the architect of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral was also on our tour. We came across Henry HALLECK Commander in Chief of the Union Armies during the Civil War and Susan Smith McKinney- Stuart the first African American woman to earn an MD in New York State. We also visited with Charles Feltman the inventor of the hot dog. We came upon Laura Keane, the actress who was on stage at Ford’s Theatre when Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. Lola Montez was our next stop, the famous actress and performer who became entangled with King Ludwig of Bavaria and was considered by many writers to be the inspiration for Irene Adler in “A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA ,” written by Arther Conan Doyle for his Sherlock Holmes series. Visiting the Freedom Lots we saw where 1,350 African Americans were buried in the 1840s. We stopped by Samuel B Morse, the inventor of the telegraph. Azrael the Angel of Death was an eerie sculpture with a figure shrouded from view, and a tribute to Mary and Charles Schieren the mayor of Brooklyn. Upon looking over my shoulder, I thought I saw the shroud pulled back and the angel staring at me with a menacing gaze! I found this curious but shrugged it off.
After visiting many other graves, our last stop was a tour of the Catacombs. This was a 150-foot-long tunnel bored into the side of a hill with 30 vaults inside bordering a main corridor for different families. The entrance was capped with a massive bronze door which was only opened to the public once a year on Halloween. The structure
reminded me of the home of Bilbo Baggins residence in The Hobbit as described by JRR Tolkien.
It was an awkward irreverent, feeling entering the Catacombs like walking into someone’s house unannounced. This was not an ancient ruin from a far-removed culture, but American graves less than 200 years old. I was not the only one who felt uncomfortable that this tour was intrusive and disrespectful as our tour guide Pam exhibited a change in demeanor as she entered the monument, repeatedly reminding us to stay together as she lectured abruptly on the history of each family. Many of the large family vaults had a bronze plaque, which I wished to read, but Pam kept pushing us along. At one point, I became frustrated and annoyed with this rush and stubbornly decided to read each plaque and to Hell with Pam, she could just wait for me! I should have taken a picture of each plaque with my phone and read them later at home as I often did in museums, but unfortunately, I did not do that.
I had just finished reading a plaque and waited to be berated by Pam for slowing down the group when I turned around to see a cute little girl with curly blond hair and blue eyes smiling up at me. I smiled back starting to panic as I felt ice cold tiny spiders, crawling up my spine. We were alone and I had been left behind!
“Sir would you like to attend a tea party with me? she said sweetly.
“ I am sorry, dear but I am running late”, I said.
I was at the far end of the catacombs about 150 feet from the main door.
“Oh please sir, it will be great fun and everyone will be attending! she pleaded.
“Everyone Dear?” I stammered.
At this point the ghostly residents of the Catacombs formally dressed in the clothes that they had been laid out and passed through the vault doors and into the main corridor.
“ Yes Sir all the families join in on All Hallows Eve, it is an old tradition“, she exclaimed meekly
“I can introduce you to everyone”! she suggested.
“ I am sorry, dear, but I must go”.
The little girl looked mad now, and where her soft little hand was touching my arm, it became cold, and as I looked down, the flesh fell away from her hand, and the bony digits dug into my flesh.
“You are staying, sir!” said the little skeleton sternly.
I wrestled my arm away from her strong grip and ran past her, pushing through the advancing crowd of skeletons, aggressively trying to stop me from leaving. I had played rugby in my youth and as the insulted residents , clawed and grabbed my clothes, chanting repeatedly.” It is rude to reject our hospitality. It is rude to reject our hospitality!”
As I got near to the entrance door, I saw the Grim Reaper blocking my advance as the large bronze door was slowly closing by itself.
“ I can make arrangements for you to join us while another mortal stays among the living for another year?” suggested the Grim Reaper to distract me as the door closed.I grabbed for his scythe pushing past him and used it to leaver the door open and squeezed through the opening, tearing my clothes as I went and heard the door close behind me. I could hear the Reaper cursing me out in muffled tones behind the heavy door. I was scared out of my wits now with my clothes, torn, and my arm bleeding, and I understood the trepidation of our guide Pam hurrying us through the catacombs to leave quickly. I now ran like a young buck drunk with adrenaline following the lighted path towards the pedestrian gate, hoping against hope to get there before it was locked for the night!
The cemetery was alive with celebrities and common folk enjoying All Hallows Eve. I saw Basquiat painting a scary backdrop of a gathering of witches for the concert of the Greenwood Cemetery Symphony Orchestra, as Leonard Bernstein stood conducting them in his sleek spectral black tuxedo facing 75 skeleton musicians in black robes with their ethereal instruments, sitting on folding chairs for their presentation of Berlioz’s Dream of a Witches Sabbath. I ran past Boss Tweed smoking a cigar and laughing with his corrupt cronies from Tammany Hall. Louis Comfort Tiffany was talking to Samuel Morse, the inventor of the telegraph discussing the finer points of each other’s trade, while thousands of Civil War soldiers listened silently to the music. Standing as far away from the confederates as possible, the 1350 residence of the Freedom Lots conversed respectfully with a group of Union Buffalo soldiers. Lola Montez, who had willed herself back into corporeal form was stunningly resplendent in a bright orange gown which she had poured herself into with a black lace veil and bedazzled with onyx gems unfazed by the attention she garnered. Henri Engelhard Steinweg the patriarch of the Steinway family was playing Toccata and Fugue in D Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach on a ghostly Grand Piano as I ran past his family’s immense mausoleum and on towards the gate. A few hundred yards ahead I could see Pam letting the last of the “non-abandoned” tourist out of the pedestrian gate, ready to lock it up as she exited herself. I screamed as loud as I could,” Wait for Me!” as I gulped in air, pushing my exhausted legs as hard as possible.
Just then, Azrael and the Grim Reaper appeared, no doubt teaming up to drag me back to the Catacombs . An image of Charon flashed through my mind docked under the Brooklyn Bridge, ready to whisk me away on that final boat ride to Hades, assisted by Azrael and the Grim Reaper as the three psychopomps combined forces to defeat me in an unholy alliance. I knew I must fight with all the strength I had left, ignoring my exhaustion. I charged at Azrael grabbing at and wrapping his shroud around his head in a knot, blinding him momentarily, then charged at the Grim Reaper diving between his legs and stopping at the feet of the horrified Pam, who gave me a curious look as if to say where did you come from? I scrambled out the heavy gate that was still ajar, got to my feet and sprinted to my car locking the car door behind me.
The next time I open a Fortune Cookie, I will treat it with respect and pay closer attention to its message. Greenwood Cemetery is a fascinating place to visit, but I would recommend that any visit be scheduled on a sunny, wholesome morning allowing plenty of time to make your way to the gate before darkness!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ALL!
JIM - OCTOBER 2026
