Lottie’s Grave
Lottie’s Grave lies outside of Homer Nebraska. And, since its Halloween and you’ve been there, I want everybody’s best Lottie’s Grave story.
Lottie Edwards’ grave is located a few miles outside of Homer, Nebraska. There are many competing stories about the life (and after-life) of Lottie Edwards.
The Background:
Version 1:
Lottie was a Sioux woman married to a trapper. They lived in a little cabin along Blackbird Bend on the Missouri river. This version claims that Lottie’s husband surprised Lottie and her lover by arriving home from a hunting trip earlier than expected. Lottie’s husband killed her lover and cut Lottie’s head off before throwing her body over a bluff into the river.
Version 2:
Lottie lost her mind when her husband died. Her neighbors proclaimed her a witch.
Version 3:
Lottie was a Sioux healer. Afraid of her, the towns people hung her by a tree in her yard. In order to prevent her from seeking revenge, they cut off Lottie’s head before burying her.
What’s supposed to happen:
That’s all I know or can remember.
Give us your stories.
Popularity: 13% [?]
The ones I remember distinctly were the salt pellet one and the Cadillac. And there was the one that said that some kids (from North high I think) went out there and were drinking near the grave and when they came back to their car, they had a flat tire and had locked themselves out of their car. Or, a group of kids went out there and when they came back to their car it had rolled backward into a ditch.
Oh, shoot, just remembered another one. Apparently there is an old wooden bridge you had to drive over on the way to Lotties grave depending on which way you go there. If you drive over the bridge slowly and listen out your window, you’ll hear either one or two creaks while crossing the bridge. One creak means Lottie “is in”. Two creaks means Lottie “is out”.
Yeah, I had forgotten the creaky bridge. Thus, like you the three that I really remember learning were: bridge, Cadillac and salt pellets.
November, 2008 Re: Lottie’s Grave, Homer, Nebraska
Since I have recently begun contacting several sites relating to my June, 1969 paranormal event at the location known as “Lottie’s Grave” near Homer, Nebraska, I have decided to write the entire story in as much detail as I can recall, and edit it for different responses…..it is quite long to report in its’ entirety, but the complete details are all important to consider in totality to appreciate the lasting magnitude of the occurrence. I have changed the few names involved only to assure their privacy as well as my own, at least for the time being or as circumstances change…..
In the early summer of 1969, I returned home from my first year away at college. Home was Sioux City, IA. I started almost immediately, as in the past five years, back to work for my father at his auto dealership in town.
About the second week, Friday rolled around, and during the day one of my high school friends, Allan, phoned wanting to get together that night to hang out and figure out something to do to kill time. I said, “Sure, what do you have in mind?”
Allan said, “Nothing right now, but I’ll figure something out.”
After work, and meeting Allan, we were the typical nineteen year olds still without a clue about how to best spend a Friday night in Sioux City. Allan said, “Have you ever heard of Lottie’s Grave?”
Although I lived there about five years, I had not.
He said, “It’s a haunted grave just a few miles from here. A lot of weird stuff is supposed to happen. Want to go?”
I was not thrilled. I thought this was a stupid waste of time. However, lacking anything better to do, we drove to Homer.
On the way, I discovered what had given Allen the interest in going to Homer. He had been working at a local radio station and had been talking to a guy named John, a former resident of Homer.
The story, according to John from his childhood, was that in the 1800’s a reclusive woman lived in the town with her daughter. The only person to contact them was a delivery boy who brought groceries to her home. On the last visit, he heard a tremendous scream inside the house. He brought help, and they discovered the woman and her daughter horribly murdered and even dismembered.
After their burial, supposedly, many paranormal events happened at the grave. John told Allen of tales of balls of light, one large, one smaller, arising from the grave and returning, and also of a ghostly horse drawn wagon leading seekers to the grave. Again, I had never heard of any of this. My reaction again was very skeptical. Allen also told me he had directions to the gravesite from John.
There is a main highway that comes from Sioux City to Homer, I believe it is US-75. As we got to the small town, there were only two prominent structures on the highway. On the right, the west side, was a bar and grille and on the opposite side was a service station.
We drove into the small village, and tried to find the cemetery. We had no luck. We figured John’s directions were wrong in that he had not lived there in years.
As we gave up, we went by the two buildings on the highway. Allan said, “C’mon, let’s ask someone about it.”
I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. I thought we would look like complete idiots, but Allan persisted, and we parked at the bar and grille and walked across the highway to ask at the filling station.
All I remember is that the place was a mess. The floor was covered in old rags, but then, I noticed the oddest thing…..there was an older man in a chair with a baseball cap on sitting the back room watching a color TV……please recall that a color TV of any sort was a pretty big deal in 1969…..just very out of place.
Allan walked up to him, and asked if he had ever heard of Lottie’s Grave.
This is exactly when everything got strange.
My impression at the time is that the man visibly shook, tensed up, and stared at the floor for the rest of the conversation.
“No, no, no,” he said.
“There ain’t no such thing as that, nowhere around here, so I can’t help you.”
We said thanks, anyway and walked back across the road to the car.
Allan then said, “Let’s go ask inside this restaurant.”
Again, I had had enough of all of this, but Allan was already in the door.
We were in the bar section, and Allan spotted a somewhat overweight waitress. There were maybe six or so other people there and a guy cleaning some shot glasses at the bar. Allan walked up to the waitress and asked her about the Grave……
Again, in now what I clearly remember like feeling I was in an episode of “The Twilight Zone”, the girl reacted, and stated way too many times that not only did she not know any directions, but she had never heard of such a thing. It was what I noticed that troubled me.
Every person’s eyes in the bar were on us. It was like the sound stopped. The air was sucked out.
The waitress, still saying that she knew nothing about all this, spotted a man standing on the one step up into the grille section. He too was looking straight at us. I can only describe him as looking exactly like the actor who played Mr. Wilson on the 50’s TV series, “Dennis the Menace.”
She walked over to him, looked very seriously at him, and said, “These boys want to know how to get to Lottie’s Grave.”
“Lottie’s Grave?” he said.
“Lottie’s Grave?” he repeated, becoming visibly agitated. ”There’s no such thing, no such thing at all……that happened years ago!”
OK, now I was hooked. The man spent time denying the existence of something he then probably mistakenly said had gone out of existence. He angrily walked away from us. Allen had picked up the same discrepancy. The waitress looked like she was trying to ask for a lifeline of what to say next. She departed in the other direction, and we were standing there one step up with a room full of people still locked on us.
Then, the guy behind the bar motioned to us to come and speak with him. Every pair of eyes watched us go to the bar.
He leaned in close and said, “Look, if I tell you where the cemetery is, will you just go there, be respectful, and quietly leave town?”
We of course said yes, then he gave us some directions into the town with a couple of turns that we had not earlier investigated.
We walked out, again feeling that everyone in the place was tracking us.
We got in the car, both thinking “How weird was that?” and followed the instructions.
We did indeed find a graveyard, but it did not seem to match in any way John’s description, nor was the headstone in the corner he told Allan it would be discovered. This was a well manicured cemetery, not at all what we had been told we would find.
I was relieved when finally, Allan agreed to go back to town. We were failures as ghost hunters.
By this time, the sun had gone down, and a thunderstorm had rolled in. Pretty typical for the Midwest in June.
Close to 9 PM, Allen said something didn’t add up with this. We both had our radar up from how all the people reacted. He was going to see John at the radio station. That is, in fact where we ended up.
This was the first time (and last time) that I met John. He said, no indeed, we were definitely not anywhere near the location of Lottie’s Grave. He also said that we were directed to the “new” cemetery that was installed with the express purpose stopping people from finding her resting place. He then said that he was off at ten, and he would go out there with us if we wanted to, even though he had not been in a long time.
So, the three of us went back. On the way, another storm cell soaked the area, and after it passed, the sky was incredibly clear.
Before we got to the town, John had us turn west on a dirt/gravel road somewhat north of the town. The road was muddy from the rain, and it led to some small hills that another road outlined.
We turned north again on this second dirt/gravel road, and went back and forth on it looking to the west side for a break in the trees and brush that John said would lead to the entrance of the correct cemetery. He also stated that the entrance, again by design of the town, had been purposely obscured to prevent exactly what we were doing.
After perhaps three shuttles looking for the break, going north, John said, “Stop”.
I parked the car on the side of the road, carefully, as there were deep ditches on both sides of the road. My car was filthy from the rain, gravel dust, and mud.
We crossed the road, and there was a break in the brush that opened into a circular clearing.
Upon inspection, John said that this was not the place. This was what he called a hunting clearing.
We stood there for a few moments, and then we heard an approaching from a long distance. This is not unusual given being out in the middle of nowhere especially after rain….sound can carry a long way.
We were actually concerned that it might be a police officer or something, so we moved quickly back to the car.
As we reached the road, ready to cross to my car, I looked to my right in the direction of the approaching car.
I vividly remember that the lights were the brightest I had ever seen, but again, it was pitch black with only starlight and it would be natural for someone to be driving with the high beams on.
We climbed into my car, the three of us in the front bench seat…..me driving, Allan in the center, and John on the right.
Then, it happened.
Whatever this car was, I was nearly blinded by its’ reflection in my driver’s side mirror and it passing us.
It was white, it seemed to float silently, it glowed, and it was immaculately clean.
As it passed, I saw a passenger looking straight forward, not even a glance to the side as it passed us. I saw no driver….I also thought for an instant that the passenger was the same man from the service station. I don’t think my senses have ever been so keen as that instant. I also noted something truly bizarre. This car had a 1965 Pontiac Bonneville front end, and a 1966 back end. I know this because my Dad was the local Pontiac dealer, and for years, one of my jobs was to work in the parts and service departments. Both models were unique. This was an impossible car.
Just in front of us now, John grabbed the dashboard and yelled, “Follow it!”
As I was already in gear, I went forward, fishtailing slightly on the muddy surface, and drew closer to it.
We went down the road further than we had before in trying to find the cemetery entrance. As I had almost caught up to it when it turned slightly left and went out of sight for only a second….. I made the mild turn, and the car was GONE! It had vanished. There was simply no place for it to go. I was almost caught up to it! Nothing but ditches on both sides of the road!
We drove on, stunned at what happened right in front of us.
Another fork in the road came up, and John said, “Go left!”
I did. We went down a small hill, and saw in front of us the wide open gate that was the entrance to Lotte’s cemetery.
After taking this all in, we agreed to go in and find her grave, but not without turning around so the car was pointed out of the place to escape quickly.
As we tried to get to the corner plot that John had remembered the grave in, a bright shooting star streaked to the horizon up the hillside that defined the cemetery. This was the spot that we found the headstone.
We did the old trick of shining the flashlight across the headstone to read the inscription formed by the shadows. I do not remember the inscription, because just as we finished reading it, a very loud scream came from across the next hill. (Yes, this can be explained as perhaps an animal, but more on this in a moment).
That was it for our courage. We drove out and back to Sioux City as fast as we could.
We dropped John off at the radio station about 1 am, and I then took Allan home to his farm about even five or ten more miles away from the incident.
As I drove to the farm, still another storm cell hit, and we arrived there totally scared. Once inside, we reconstructed what had just happened to us, which I credit for being able to remember these events with some detail.
About 2 am, the rain let up, and I decided I wanted to go home.
As I reached for the doorknob, the same awful scream happened again, RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR!
I don’t think that frightened me nearly as much as seeing the reaction on Allan’s face from sheer terror.
At about 3 am, I braved the door again, this time, without a problem, and went back to Sioux City.
The next day, after recovering with needed sleep, I telephoned another high school friend.
I asked him if he had ever heard of “Lottie’s Grave”.
He said, “Yeah, isn’t that out in Nebraska where strange stuff is supposed to happen on the second Friday of every month?”
I looked at the calendar. It had been the second Friday. I can’t swear to it now, but my memory of that second Friday of June in 1969 is that it was also Friday the 13th.
POSTSCRIPT
There are still a couple of things to report about this.
One thing that I thought of later was that earlier in the day this happened, before even thinking about going out to the site, someone had asked me what I thought the best looking Pontiac would be.
I replied, if you could somehow merge the 1966 front end with a 1965 back end, that would be the best of both and a great looking car. Exactly the opposite of what I think the “ghost car” was as it passed. Could this be a case of my projected mass hypnosis on just me and/or the others? I don’t know.
I do know this: after almost forty years, all of this can be logically explained away in one form or another with the one exception……THE CAR VANISHED IN FRONT OF US. We all saw that. I was taking flying lessons that summer, and on a solo flight from the Sioux City airport, I went low over the location.
Again, I decided there and then, there was no place for the car to go.
Also, Allan and I did make a return trip to the cemetery that summer.
There was nothing at all like what passed before, but a very curious thing happened.
We had positioned ourselves once again in the cemetery, car pointing out for rapid escape if needed. Our lights were out. Again, very dark.
Then, a car came up to the gate. Clearly, someone got out of it, as we could see the in the headlights as someone walked in front of the car. There was no car interior light that came on which is usually the case when you open a car door.
But the thing is , it seemed that someone got out, and did not get back into the car as it drove away…..who knows?
Sorry Rob, your story was too long, I didn’t read it……..just kidding!
But seriously, you were 19 in the summer of 1969 and no intoxicants were involved. Consider me skeptical.
But seriously, that is a GREAT story. I cringed at the dismemberment part and now that I read it, I DO recall one of the stories around lotties grave was that a ghostly horse drawn carriage would lead people to the grave.
Why does reading this stuff enthrall me so? I’m absolutely going to find this place again sometime when I’m back in Sioux City. Maybe we could all hook up for a visit and make an evening of it?
Mike, I seems to recall that we went on a specific Friday of the month, as Rob is saying. You recall that?
Shoot, I don’t have any recollection on that either way.
Hi,
My storie about Lottie’s Grave came from what my mother and grandmother told me back in the 70′s. This was when I went to South Sioux City High School.
Apparently from what I heard Lottie went crazy. Not sure whether there was a lover involved or not. This took place back in the early 1900′s. The story went that her husband had dug tunnels from the basement of the house to several different areas on the property. And that there were sessions of black magic and witchcraft going on in these tunnels. From what I heard during one of these sessions Lottie went crazy or became possessed. She then proceeded to kill each of the family members, and then hung herself from the ceiling with barbwire on the staircase of the house. Which was located in the front foyer of the home as you entered from the front door of the house. she was apparently found with the family dead. Although not all of the family members were accounted for. Seems 1 or more of the children were missing. Supposedly in the tunnels.
Anyways, friends and I drove out to Homer back in 1976 to check the story out. There is a gravel road off Highway 75 leading west that lead us to house that had long since been lived in. There were 4 of us that night. We stopped and ventured to the house and were able to get in. The house smelled rank and foul, like someone had died there. It was a 2 story home. My friend’s and me went investigating. Upstairs were several bedrooms all vacant of any furniture. Yet each room had the feeling of the person that had lived there before. And the feeling in the house was very dreadful, almost like there was someone watching you. as I continued with my friends to check out the house, I was on the 1st floor. Near what I would call a kitchen or dining area. In this room was a potbelly stove. Though it was dark and the house had no electricity or any other outside source for fuel. I touched the top of the stove and felt like my hand was being burned in a furnace. This was just the start of things to happn that night. One of my friends, who was in one of the upstairs bedrooms claimed he heard a voice saying to get out or die. Another on the staircase leading upstairs, stated about halfway up something tried wrapping or grabing him by the neck and tried to lift him. The staircase had very dark stains like that of dried blood on the steps where this occured. Now after all this started happening we found the door to the basement. And when opened we almost all threw up the smell was that bad. Needless to say we didn’t venture down to check it out.
We had started hearing noises from the outside of the house. Someone had noticed out car. So we then started to run to the car to leave. And just like the story goes a neighbor happened to notice us on the property. All I remember was running for the car and shotgun being fired. I felt a shap pain in my back, along with another friend, and realized we had been shot with rocksalt. Once we were in the car and got going, there was another car with the highbeams on following us. There were more shots and then the road came to a Y, where I tried to stay left to get back to the highway. Only the car slid into a field, and I just barely managed to pull back onto to the road out of the mud. We continued west and fortunately we out ran who ever followed us. I know I would never forget this night.
Since then I have been back to Lottie’s Grave several times. By myself and with family and some friends to see if everything was real. The house though was gone and a new home had been built there.
I also found a graveyard in the hills around Homer that had a grave with a Lottie buried there at the far end of the cemetery. There were 3 headstones and the grave had a metal barrier surrounding the graves burried into the ground. Again there is a presence of death and evil in the area. I have only once walked up to the grave site and have driven back a couple of times. It is just to wierd out in the hills of there to explain. With the Jesus is watching you signs or God is watching that are hand built and painted by the local residents. I just felt it was to dangerous to go any further. Please believe me I know these people. I know from my family back in Ohio and Kentucky not to mess with something you don’t know.
Thanks for your time,
Jerry M
Thanks for telling us that. I have never heard anything about the house before, only the grave yard/bridge stories.
To Rob: I played basketball in the late sixties. Does your last name begin
with S?
To all interested: For Christmas I asked for a Trip out to see Loties Grave. I have lived so close for all these years and now my kids live so far. I want to make it a family trip…maybe we can rent the Trolley and
make a bigger family and friend event. Maybe on Good Friday the second Friday of the month. Or maybe in May when all are home for
graduation.
I just went to Lottie’s grave tonight with a couple friends. Today was the second Friday of the month, and from all the stories I’ve heard, today should be the best day for something to happen. So my friends and I drove down to Homer from Sioux City. I’ve been there twice before.
The first time we didn’t real do much. We couldn’t even find her grave. The second time, we went when there was a bit of light left to help us look. We found the grave in the cemetary, but we wanted to find her actually grave that’s supposedly up in the trees ontop of a hill. We crossed the barb wire fence and followed an old cattle path up a hill (right next to the cemetary is a cattle pasture). We found an old overgrown cemetary. We read the tombstones, but no of them said Lottie Edwards. Most of them were Taylors and a few Dodges. We figured this was the original Taylor cemetary and someone built a new one at the bottom of the hill to make it easier to get to and named it Taylor’s Cemetary.
So we were a little disheartened, but decided to keep on. We drove to Homer and when to Pronto to get a pop. We asked the cashier about Lottie’s grave and all she said is that we’re not supposed to be up there (The cemetary is open from dawn to dusk. Any other time it’s treated as private propety and considered tresspassing to go into). We asked two sherriffs who were sitting at one of the tables if they knew anything, but we didn’t really get a straight answer from them, either. So, we just hung out for a little bit until around ten or eleven and went back to the grave.
We got to the one in the new cemetary and yelled, “Lottie Edwards, if you’re real, show yourself.” but nothing happened. So, we headed back up the cattle trail to the overgrown cemetary and did the same thing, but again no answer. We put a pop can on her grave, but it was full when we picked it back up. The only thing that happened that night was two of my friends said they saw a shadow just off the road when we were driving back. I just figure it was an animal.
That was about five weeks ago. We decided to go again tonight, because of the second Friday thing. We drove down at about ten and got to the cemetary. We quickly ran up to the grave, but as soon as we reached it, the man that lives next to the cemetary turned on his porch lights, so we booked it back to my car. I jump in and go to turn the engine on, but to my suprise, I couldn’t find my keys. I looked all over the car, but they weren’t there. So, the only thing to do was to go back and look for the keys.
When we just about reached the grave, we saw the man staring out his window. We ran back and jumped in my car. My friend and me were sitting in my car and a couple of my other friends were sitting in the other car. All of sudden, my dashlights flashed three times and all the doors locked. It’s never done this before, so we were kind of freaked out. We jumped over to the other car and decided to head over to the Pronto and wait until things settle down before looking for the keys again. While we were sitting at Pronto, we decided it would be best if we just went up to guy’s house and asked him we could go up, get my keys, and leave.
So, we got back to the cemetary and walked up the guy’s driveway. My heart was beating so hard because of the stories I’ve heard of this guy shooting salt pellets at kids. I was suprised to see he had a very nice house and sweet truck. We went up to the door and rang the doorbell. The man answered with his wife there. Again I was suprised to see the couple were only in there fifties and pretty nice looking. I said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I lost my keys up in the cemetary. Can I got get them?” They were actually really nice and with a smile said, “You know you’re not supposed to be up there.” I said I know and I’m sorry, but he said it’s ok and gave me permission to go get my keys. They seemed like they were the exact opposite of what I was thinking.
So once again he headed to the grave and I found me keys about five paces from the Lottie’s tombstone. I must of fell out of my pocket when I scrambling to get back to the car when the porch light came on. So, we were done with this and with my keys I could finally leave.
Thanks for reading my story. I didn’t mean to make it so long, sorry.
Just for anyone wondering, THE DIRECTIONS TO LOTTIE’S GRAVE: From the bridge connecting Sioux City and South Sioux City (the big one that lights up at night and goes over the Missour River), go south. Take a right at Highway 77. Head south down this for quite awhile (sorry, don’t remember the time or mileage). It’s easier to just head to Homer before going to the grave. Once you’re in Homer, turn around and head back north (sorry for this, but it’s easier for me. You don’t have to do this if you can find the street without going by it). Turn West on 225th Street. It’s hard to find the street. I find it by heading north and just out of town you’ll see one of those signs that mean a streets coming up to turn and it goes over railroad tracks. It’s hard to explain. But once you turn onto 225th go west until you get to the stop sign. Take a right, going north on South Bluff Road. Head up this until you get to another stop sigh. Take a left on this. Travel north up the road until you see a road going to the right. It looks more like a driveway until you actually turn into it. Make sure you turn off the headlights when you turn because the guy’s house is right next to the road and even though he’s nice I’m sure he’s tired of people going up there. Straight ahead you’ll see a fence and a sign saying Talyor Cemetary. Congrats, you’ve made it. Go through the gate and Lottie’s grave is a few yards from the southeast corner of the cemetary. It’s just a little grave that doesn’t really stick up. The old cemetary is ontop of the hill to the southwest.
Again sorry for making it so long and complicated. I’m terrible at giving directions.
Tonight was the first night I’ve ever been to Lotte’s grave. The only thing exciting that happened was we got lost on the way there and miraculously found it.
But this Friday is the 2nd Friday of the month and coincidentally the same Friday that Rob said he went exactly 40 years ago. The 5 of us plan on going back this Friday in anticipation of seeing one of these events described in previous posts or legends (except for the salt pellets of course). I feel a little disrespectful doing this but I want to see if these paranormal events truly exist. I will be sure to post back Friday after we go.
I went with brady chase is my code name we got lost and noticed lots of paranormal activity including a speeding white car on the gravel road going the other way when we were leaving
When we tried to go to lotties grave we got a flat tire on the way. we fixed the tire and continued on our journey then we got another flat tire and had to walk back to sioux city.
As Beth has already informed you, a group of us went out to see what all of this was about. We discovered a few new cases of paranormal activities outside of the cemetery: a “dead” man lying in the road; a deer with blue eyes; an old man with stomach problems; and a police truck coming to cite us for trespassing. It was quite an adventure and I recommend it if you have the time. Just don’t wake the neighbors.
Let’s get all the facts before we say that going to Lottie’s Grave site was stupid. We did go to the Cemetery near Lottie’s Grave in two cars. Nearing the Cemetery we did see a man lying in the road at one intersection. I almost ran over him. Looked like Texas road kill. When we found the cemetery, we parked the cars and went through the gate. Immediately there came upon us, a horde of mosquitoes. I truthfully have never experienced this kind of paranormal phenomena. It was horrible. And when you think of West Nile virus, the chances of Lottie getting revenge is tremendous. We never did get to her grave which is outside the cemetery, because of the mosquito blockade.
Then yes, I admit, that as some of us stood near our
cars, the police did come. He informed us on one hand
that he must charge us with trespassing, (and possibly child endangerment and or contributing to the delinquency of a minor) since Lottie is not our relative. And she is the one that we came to visit. Yet on the other hand, he told us how to get to her grave site. As if to re-invite us back into the horde of mosquitoes again. Why make the county pay for our stay in jail when Lottie wants to make us pay AND get her Revenge…WEST NILE DEATH!
Yes, I must admit, that at one moment, near the end
we could smell something like death…death warmed over. The last time I SMELLED anything so horrid, I was in the Old Navy. May be in the end, that is what cleared the cemetery of our wayward group.
Would I go back? I did not see Lottie’s Grave site.
So YES I must!
So which would be worse, a horde of West Nile mosquitoes or an attacking rooster? Or possibly a rooster infected with West Nile? Either way, I hope you have your ice cubes ready. Was this Old Navy equipped with nerve gas protection? It would have helped to have some at the cemetery. Will we be seeing the video account of our expedition?
P.S. Maybe on your return trip you should wear some non-scented mosquito repellent.
About 10 years ago my friend and I went out there during the day, once we got to the wooden bridge we got out and looked down and saw a BUNCH of dead animals, some were skeletons and some still had fur, about a week later we went back and there was no trace of any dead animals whatsoever. We went there a few times at night, but were always to afraid to get out of the car, the last time we ever went, we were chased by an older white car, we had the cd player on and without either of us touching it the volume went straight down to zero, and once we got to a nearby house the car seemed to vanish and some dog started barking and chasing us
My husband and i and my sons friend who is wiccan went to the cemetary last nite and btw we have been to alot of cemetarys in the past but nothing compaires to this 1!Not only did we feel like we were being watched but it was very creepy to us…All 3 of us saw dark shadows shifting from 1 headstone to the other 1 and we felt like the spirts we all watching us!There was afew times we were at the top of the hill and then heard cars coming and we ran like a bat outta hell down to the bottem of the hill only to find that there wasnt any cars in sight..We couldnt find lotties headstone but we did see some flashes of white and the moon came out and then it was gone and complete darkness….We plan on going back in afew days i sure hope we get to find her grave..Will try to take some pictures to
I remember hearing from my mom as a child never to go to Lottie’s Grave. My mom grew up in South Sioux City, NE. As a kid her and friends would go out to the grave site, messing around as kids do. I know of several stories that are related to the site itself that my mom remembers hearing. The one about the three guys dying is supposed to go like this, supposedly after a night of drinking the three guys entered the grave site, and began vandalizing it, and carved their names and birthdays in the dirt, after returning there was a death date as well, one of them supposedly got in a car accident and was killed, the other had a heart attack, and the third went crazy thinking he was going to die on the date as well. And was locked up. Another story is of kids that were out to play a prank on friends for Halloween, they had rigged up a noose to swing out of a tree as if to hanging, and scare another group that was coming out to meet them, the rope caught up wrong and the kid actually hung, the friends not realizing this was not part of the prank. My mom’s stories are of having numberous flat tires. Some of the people she was with locked the doors of the car on her, and she panicked, and was hanging from the window slipped and broke her arm. She said it always had a scary feel out there, but to her knowledge, people would put glass and nails on the roads to make you get flat tires, to scare you, and most people would panic, and some ended up getting hurt because of it. I’ve never been there, but the stories are coming from somewhere and they’ve carried on all these years, so something started them. All in all I say maybe she should be left to rest in peace.