tombstoneSomehow in high school, I had a knack for doing lots of dumb stuff but not getting in trouble. My friends and I were basically “good kids” (church youth group, good students, etc.) but loved to play pranks, clown, push limits and generally get into stuff. Growing up in a small town, there wasn’t much to do, so we had to come up with our own ideas. Sometimes those ideas proved less than wise.

Another thing about small towns is that there are lots of urban legends. We had the Farrenberg Light, Blue Baby, and the Hart Cemetery GLOWING TOMBSTONE… omg111eleventyftwbbq! One late summer night in about 1995ish, several of us decided to go find this glowing tombstone and see if the legend was real.

We were an unlikely group, to say the least. I was driving my grandfather’s brown Ford pickup truck, and had a friend riding with me (I think Mary). Our friend Lorrie was driving a second car, and had April H., Mike S. and his brother Meechie with her. Mary, Lorrie and I are white girls. April is black. Mike is a black guy who grew up in our tiny country town. His brother Meechie, on the other hand, was visiting for the summer from Chicago. Bless his heart, he didn’t know any better but to follow us crazy white people into the woods.

Hart Cemetery is an old Civil War-era graveyard, a little bit north of town out in the middle of nowhere where there are no street lights. It’s one of those places where you have to know where you’re going to get there. I was in the lead as we turned down a dark dirt road and slowly crept to the end. The graves were off to our right, mixed in with gnarly limbs, tall grass and mud. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw one set of headlights. They were still behind me… cool. I kept driving. Suddenly I noticed a second set of headlights. We were being followed!

I turned around at the end of the dirt road and was facing the direction we had come from, back toward the main road, keeping my headlights on. I tried to make out the vehicle. I parked and rolled my window down, and April yelled up to me “I think it’s the Highway Patrol!” She would know. Her dad was a State Trooper. She was right — red and blue lit up the night. “$@#%! Are we in trouble? Is this illegal? Are we supposed to be here?” A little late for that now.

The female patrolman (patrolperson?) shined her flashlight in my eyes and told me to get out of the truck. I was terrified. The others started to get out and she ordered everyone (except me) back in the cars. Great. I was gonna be the one to go to jail, lose my college scholarships, embarrass my family, go to federal pound me in the ass prison… whatever nightmares I could think up. The officer told me to get in her squad car… in the FRONT seat. I thought you always got put in the back if you’re being arrested. Hmm.

She ran my plates and found out the truck wasn’t mine. She asked me who ___ ___ was (my grandfather), so I explained that I’m-borrowing-their-truck-I-swear-and-you-can-call-them-except-they’re-probably-asleep-and-have-you-ever-met-my-parents-they-work-for-the-school-system-I-swear-I’m-not-a-criminal-oh-my-god-seriously-I-didn’t-steal-it…

Finally I got the courage. “Are we in trouble for something?” By this time, the officer had rolled down her window, and our friend’s car was parked beside her about ten feet away, driver’s side to driver’s side. “Well that depends. What are y’all doin out here?” I looked over at Lorrie. “Should I just tell her?” “Sure… I guess.”

“Officer, we’re looking for a glowing tombstone.” She cracked up laughing and said, “Oh, that’s all? I thought you were gonna get drunk and tear up the graves.” She told us all we could get out of the cars. We all stood around talking and joking for a few minutes. She was asking each of us where we were from, and someone let it slip that Meechie was from the ‘hood, visiting his country brother for the summer. “Watch this,” she whispered to me.

She flipped on her siren for a split second. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! Meechie hit the dirt. “F%&K! What the hell? Man, I don’t like the cops!” LMAO! Then came the crazy part. After the laughter died down, she said, “Really, there’s supposed to be a glowing tombstone out here? Let’s look for it!”

I was dumbfounded, relieved, amused and curious all at the same time. I got back into her patrol car and we drove down the paths between the graves looking for the legendary tombstone. We gave up after a couple of minutes, never having found it. She told us to be careful, drove back down the road and left. A few minutes later, we were bored and headed back to town.

We got back to April’s house and told her dad what had happened, and about her making me get into the front seat of the car. He asked us the name of the officer. “You know she’s a lesbian, right? She probably thought you were cute,” he said to me. They gave me a hard time for years.

The moral of the story? White people are crazy. I guess. LOL