Dean Hill Revolutionary Cemetery - The Rev - Fitchburg MA Real Haunts

Recently Shared Experiences & Comments

• 

  real

  i went here with a couple friends a little bit ago, and we felt something touching us and we felt something grab us so we turned around. when we turned around there was a shadow walking fast away to the right of us and we couldn't make the shadows out. there were also a bunch of leaves surrounding us. pretty creepy.

  Posted 5/18/23

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  4 out of 4 found this review helpful

• 

  The rev is haunted

  I went here with a group of friends checking out local haunts back in 2007. We drove there during the day. We noticed that no animals or bugs would enter the cemetery it self. While we were there we could hear whispering and people talking but no one was around but us. Yes I can confirm that someone was burned on this road there was news articles about it when it happened.

  Posted 11/10/22

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  5 out of 5 found this review helpful

• 

  Respect the Rev

  I lived on Dean Hill for a few years with an ex boyfriend in school. We took many trips to the Rev(walking distance) but the one that conjures up goosebumps for me is the last time.... it was Fall of 2004 and they had been building on that road during the year, so there was a lot of activity in the cemetery and reports of kids goofing off. A small group of six of us decided that we would respectfully poke around to see if anything else had been moved or damaged. It was always very upsetting to us that people were so disrespectful of the cemetery. This was people's resting place for all eternity! We always did our best to be respectful, no cameras, no electronics, nothing with a magnetic field as not to disturb or agitate the dead. We even walked this time, candles in hand, as the last time we went, my car stalled completely and refused to turn on(a brand new vehicle), even though in daylight the next morning, absolutely nothing was wrong with it and it started up no problem. That night was so quiet, no wind, no drums, no screams, no footsteps... just still silence. There was a tall thin grave marker in the front of the cemetery, and her name was the same as mine, only spelled Rebekah. You could barely make it out, but she was young when she died and she had children. We sat, forming a horseshoe around her stone and slowly started talking to her. We asked that she say hello and that we meant no harm, but wanted her to make an appearance. We were pretty hopeful about this kind of connection; we had all been part of many a seance in the years prior, some in that cemetery, and we took it seriously. As we held hands, you could feel the electricity moving between us and after a few minutes, you could feel the wind pick up and ground beneath us almost vibrating. And then it happened. The coldest, iciest pair of hands I've ever felt rested gently on my shoulders. Thinking it was one of our friends, I looked above me, expecting to see them laughing. Instead, I saw her. I froze in absolute terror, realizing she was touching me... and I could *feel* her. She was pale white, almost grey, and completely see-through. When I think back I remember that I could see tree branches showing behind her chest as I looked up at her. She was young. She must have been pretty when she was alive, her face half covered in long, tangled ringlets of hair. But her eyes..... were empty sockets of black nothingness.... that's what I remember most. She was see through except for her eyes. Solid black voids... Then she opened her mouth slowly, as if to say something to me. I FREAKED out and jumped up, my candle falling out of my lap, screaming. My friends had no idea what had happened, and I could hear them calling to me as I ran alone, back down Caswell. I heard a haunting, low laughing following behind me; gently, almost cajoling. My shoulders were freezing the whole way down the road until I made it to Dean Hill, absolutely breathless and still yelling. My friends reported to me afterwards that they couldn't see me in the dark running, but they could see a thin, white wisp trailing behind me, similar in fashion to if I were wearing a cape. That was 13 years ago and I can still feel her bony, cold fingers digging into my skin. I never went back. You'll want to Respect The Rev.

  Posted 9/25/17

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  10 out of 10 found this review helpful