Whats is the story of lottie edwards
This is only part I due to message character restrictions....
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.
This is part 2....
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.
This is part 3.....
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.
This is part 4.....
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.
This is part 5...
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.
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?
Obviously, if you have read all of this, I welcome feedback....Rob
ATTENTION, the following is actually part 1-A which did not load in the proper order...sorry....please bear with this....
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.
I had a similar experience with the car. My friends and I went out to Homer to find Lottie's grave. no such luck, we looked and looked. We stopped to ask someone where it was and we also go a strange look from the gas station clerks, they gave us directions to some other cemetary. When we finally found where we were going, we turned down the gravel road and I don't know if we went to far or what happened??? We ended up turning around at a crossroad, and I can swear to this day that there was not another car anywhere to be seen. well when i got turned around and looked in my rearview mirror, there it was 2 bright headlights coming up on my tail. I asked my friends if they seen it and they turned around and it was there and not 5 seconds later i look back up in my rearview mirror and it was gone. no where to be found? it still gives me goosebumps to this day!
When did this happen?
Are you from the Sioux City Area?
This story has (pardon the expression) haunted me for many years.
My buddies and I went out to the cemetery. We were all from Sioux City. The year was 1982. We had heard the stories about Lottie and how she was hung for being a witch. We didn't have any problems finding the cemetery. However, after everyone climbed out of the car all four car doors lockd simaltaneously with the keys still in the ignition. Mind you this was a car that did not have automatic door locks. We did find Lottie's grave but had to make the walk back to Sioux City. My buddy and his dad retrieved the car the next and found it unlocked with the keys still in the ignition.
BEING A LIFELONG RESIDENT HERE, I CAN ATTEST TO THE FACT THAT
LOTTIES GRAVE IS INDEED HAUNTED. BEING A TWIN I AM MORE
ATTUNED TO SILENT COMMUNICATION BETWEEN HUMANS.
I HAVE BEEN TO LOTTIES GRAVE AND HAVE HAD THE HAIR ON MY NECK
STAND STRAIGHT UP FROM SILENT WHISPERINGS , YOU MUST REMEMBER
ALWAYS TO BE RESPECTFUL OF THE DECEASEDS FINAL RESTING SPOT
OR ELSE ... WELL ITS UP TO YOU,
your a dork and now im going to haunt you for the rest of your life;)
My sister, her fiance and I tried to find Lottie's grave tonight and had no such luck. It was taking us out to Taylor's Cemetery on these old gravel roads that were creepy. We turned around before we actually got anywhere near the cemetery. However the fiance said we were supposed to cross 2 bridges and we didn't cross any. Can someone PLEASE give me directions to Lottie's grave that makes you cross 2 bridges.
i went last night with my friends and we also ended up at taylors cemetary we searched and only found her "fake" headstone which was placed there for respect since her real one was stolen? SUPPOSEDLY the real one is some way into the woods south of the cemetary. if someone could please give me directions i would GREATLY appreciate it! thanks ...
Does anyone know how to really get to the actual gravesite of Lottie Edwards? My friends and I kind of want to go. Directions would be greatly appreciated.
I also need the directions to Lottie's grave.
we found Taylors cemetary and then we dont know where to go.
idk know where its ai but mr famly membrs went and almost died
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