In Portland, Oregon we have some very nice cemeteries. When I say “nice cemeteries” I’m speaking of cemeteries with character. Not the contemporary sort consisting only of flat stones, which are designed to make the life of the caretakers easier. Modern cemeteries lack in character. They look like mown lawns, and not much more. Older cemeteries are intriguing places. They’re history etched in stone. They are also works of art. The old tomb stones that stand erect come in all sorts of sizes and styles, from little concrete lambs to life-sized angels wielding swords. And the epitaphs range from silly to serious, such as “I made some good deals and I made some bad ones. I really went into the hole with this one” and “Beloved Father.”
There is one cemetery in particular that I really like in Portland, Oregon. Gypsies have used this cemetery for decades. They have upright tomb stones and mini-mausoleums. The graves usually have a photo of the decedent on the tomb stone under glass. The photos are a-typical of what one would think a Gypsy would look like. It’s interesting to walk about the cemetery and read the epitaphs and see the photos of those buried there. There is also a large Japanese area. The Japanese section is a-typical of Japanese culture and art, with a Japanese archway leading into that section.
Over the years I’ve been to this cemetery many times, usually just to stroll alone or with friends or family. In the ‘80s I worked for a funeral company. We did removals for funeral homes. I recall doing several deliveries to the funeral home that sits on the cemetery grounds, and which operates the cemetery. In the ‘80s, when we called on the funeral home, we had two people to make the delivery. Nowadays, I work for a company in which only one person generally makes such a delivery. The other evening I was called on to make a delivery to this funeral home alone. I was nervous. To put it bluntly, the funeral home is creepy. It’s creepy in the sense that it screams “a-typical funeral home”. It’s not a new-fangled funeral home, where everything is modern and sleek. This funeral home has a columbarium in the funeral home. The chapel is to the east of the columbarium, and has rose-tinted windows that stretch from the top of the tall walls to the rose-coloured carpet below. Somehow, even in the middle of the night, these windows seems to faintly glow, perhaps from the moon and stars causing them to illuminate. So, as you enter the funeral home, the columbarium is to your left and the chapel is to your right. The columbarium is constructed of marble, and holds the ashes of hundreds (if not thousands) of individuals. Family members leave offerings of flowers, wreaths, photos, incense, coins, books, etc. at the front of their loved ones niche.
Outside of the funeral home, even late at night, one can hear the sounds of the city. One hears the roar of car engines as they zoom by on the main street; one hears a dog barking; one hears the wind rustling through the trees. But, inside the funeral home, it’s quiet. It’s so quiet, one realize how alone they really are. Yet, one senses that there are others present, only those others are not present in a physical sense.
This last time that I made a ‘call’ to this funeral home, it was approximately 11 PM. I backed up to the double-glass doors, parked, unlocked the double-glass doors and turned off the alarm system. As I was unlocking the doors I got the distinct peripheral image of a silhouetted gentleman standing in the center of the entry room. He was looking at me. When I glanced towards that area, there was nothing but a funeral wreath standing in the middle of the room. As I unloaded the deceased from the van, I again got the impression that there was someone standing there, watching me. I couldn’t shake this impression. I broke out into a sweat. But, I had a job to do, and I couldn’t allow my imagination to interfere with my work. So, I rolled the gurney into the main room, and locked myself into the building.
The cooler and preparation room are in the basement of this building. One has to place the gurney on an odd elevator to get the body into the basement. This elevator is located at the front of the chapel, to the right, behind a curtain. One rolls the gurney up the main isle of the chapel and into the small room which is located behind the curtain. You call the little elevator by pushing a button. The little elevator is designed to hold the gurney, caskets and other things which can’t be taken down the stairway. The elevator raises up out of the floor and a ‘lid’ lifts up on hinges as the platform for the gurney raises up. It makes a ‘whirrrrrring’ noise as it raises up. One places the gurney onto this little platform, and then pushes the ‘Lower’ button. The gurney sits on the platform as it lowers back down through the floor, the hinged ‘lid’ closing down again. It’s rather unnerving when one does this for the first time, because it seems that the gurney could roll off of the platform as it lowers down into the basement. But, I don’t believe this has ever happened.
Once the gurney is down the hatch, you have to walk back through the chapel and into the central-entry room. There is a staircase to the north which you go down. Once down the stairs, one is in a lower room that is also a columbarium. One gets an odd feeling from the entire building, but this room/columbarium at the bottom of the stairs is said to give funeral workers the whillies. From this lower room, one uses keys to enter in a PRIVATE room, which is the cooler room and the preparation room. One enters into this room, and retrieves the cot from the elevator platform. Then one proceeds to finish their paperwork, make sure the body is properly identified, and properly placed within the cooler.
On this particular night I was rather panicky. I’m not sure why. There is always some level of creepiness to any funeral home. But, I’m not generally bothered by this. This particular evening I was in a panic, so much so that I was sweating. To begin with, I decided to go to the Men’s Room before I headed down the staircase. The Men’s Room is upstairs, in the columbarium. As you approach the Men’s Room you first pass the Women’s Room is to the left. As I passed the Women’s Room I heard a loud “TAP” come from inside that darkened room. I stopped and stared. Nothing stirred in the room. All was deathly quiet. Surely there couldn’t be someone in there? I rushed into the Men’s Room and locked the door. I did my business and forced myself to leave the security of the locked Men’s Room and back out into the columbarium, keeping a wary eye at the doorway of the darkened Women’s Room. I rushed down the stairs and finished the ‘First Call,” relieved when I was back out into the warm, breezy air of a Midnight Portland, Oregon.
Why do some funeral homes have a major “Creep Factor” and others do not? As I said, all funeral homes have some level of a creep factor. But this particular ‘chapel’, as well as a few others are off the chart in creepiness. I’ve put a lot of thought into why some chapels are creepier than others. My conclusion comes from personal experience and introspection, as well as from talking to others who are also in the funeral service. Most every funeral worker will agree as to which funeral homes are unnerving, and which are not. The main observation is this: in some funeral homes, one feels a presence. One feels as if they are being watched. Some may put this down to being the ambiance of the funeral home (décor, design, etc.). Perhaps the make-up of the funeral home causes one to feel uneasy. But, there’s more to it I feel. Some funeral homes truly are active.
Before someone thinks that I simply have an active imagination, consider this. I’ve been in dozens of funeral homes. I’ve been in funeral homes during the day, during the evening, in the middle of the night and in the wee hours of the morning. I’ve lived above 3 different funeral homes. I’m not afraid of funeral homes. My belief is that most funeral homes are not noticeably haunted. However, there are 4 in the Portland/Vancouver area that I feel are noticeably haunted. This is not just my belief, but the belief of many in the funeral service.
I don’t believe that funeral homes are more active than other places. Nor are they less active than other places. In my opinion, a ghost is just as likely to haunt a house as a funeral home. A ghost is just as likely to haunt a forest as a cemetery. Why do some spirits choose to linger in a funeral home? I don’t know. Perhaps the spirit (or spirits) who haunt a funeral home were once workers there. Or perhaps they died in the building. Whatever the reason, they generally leave a very uneasy impression upon the person who senses them.
There is one cemetery in particular that I really like in Portland, Oregon. Gypsies have used this cemetery for decades. They have upright tomb stones and mini-mausoleums. The graves usually have a photo of the decedent on the tomb stone under glass. The photos are a-typical of what one would think a Gypsy would look like. It’s interesting to walk about the cemetery and read the epitaphs and see the photos of those buried there. There is also a large Japanese area. The Japanese section is a-typical of Japanese culture and art, with a Japanese archway leading into that section.
Over the years I’ve been to this cemetery many times, usually just to stroll alone or with friends or family. In the ‘80s I worked for a funeral company. We did removals for funeral homes. I recall doing several deliveries to the funeral home that sits on the cemetery grounds, and which operates the cemetery. In the ‘80s, when we called on the funeral home, we had two people to make the delivery. Nowadays, I work for a company in which only one person generally makes such a delivery. The other evening I was called on to make a delivery to this funeral home alone. I was nervous. To put it bluntly, the funeral home is creepy. It’s creepy in the sense that it screams “a-typical funeral home”. It’s not a new-fangled funeral home, where everything is modern and sleek. This funeral home has a columbarium in the funeral home. The chapel is to the east of the columbarium, and has rose-tinted windows that stretch from the top of the tall walls to the rose-coloured carpet below. Somehow, even in the middle of the night, these windows seems to faintly glow, perhaps from the moon and stars causing them to illuminate. So, as you enter the funeral home, the columbarium is to your left and the chapel is to your right. The columbarium is constructed of marble, and holds the ashes of hundreds (if not thousands) of individuals. Family members leave offerings of flowers, wreaths, photos, incense, coins, books, etc. at the front of their loved ones niche.
Outside of the funeral home, even late at night, one can hear the sounds of the city. One hears the roar of car engines as they zoom by on the main street; one hears a dog barking; one hears the wind rustling through the trees. But, inside the funeral home, it’s quiet. It’s so quiet, one realize how alone they really are. Yet, one senses that there are others present, only those others are not present in a physical sense.
This last time that I made a ‘call’ to this funeral home, it was approximately 11 PM. I backed up to the double-glass doors, parked, unlocked the double-glass doors and turned off the alarm system. As I was unlocking the doors I got the distinct peripheral image of a silhouetted gentleman standing in the center of the entry room. He was looking at me. When I glanced towards that area, there was nothing but a funeral wreath standing in the middle of the room. As I unloaded the deceased from the van, I again got the impression that there was someone standing there, watching me. I couldn’t shake this impression. I broke out into a sweat. But, I had a job to do, and I couldn’t allow my imagination to interfere with my work. So, I rolled the gurney into the main room, and locked myself into the building.
The cooler and preparation room are in the basement of this building. One has to place the gurney on an odd elevator to get the body into the basement. This elevator is located at the front of the chapel, to the right, behind a curtain. One rolls the gurney up the main isle of the chapel and into the small room which is located behind the curtain. You call the little elevator by pushing a button. The little elevator is designed to hold the gurney, caskets and other things which can’t be taken down the stairway. The elevator raises up out of the floor and a ‘lid’ lifts up on hinges as the platform for the gurney raises up. It makes a ‘whirrrrrring’ noise as it raises up. One places the gurney onto this little platform, and then pushes the ‘Lower’ button. The gurney sits on the platform as it lowers back down through the floor, the hinged ‘lid’ closing down again. It’s rather unnerving when one does this for the first time, because it seems that the gurney could roll off of the platform as it lowers down into the basement. But, I don’t believe this has ever happened.
Once the gurney is down the hatch, you have to walk back through the chapel and into the central-entry room. There is a staircase to the north which you go down. Once down the stairs, one is in a lower room that is also a columbarium. One gets an odd feeling from the entire building, but this room/columbarium at the bottom of the stairs is said to give funeral workers the whillies. From this lower room, one uses keys to enter in a PRIVATE room, which is the cooler room and the preparation room. One enters into this room, and retrieves the cot from the elevator platform. Then one proceeds to finish their paperwork, make sure the body is properly identified, and properly placed within the cooler.
On this particular night I was rather panicky. I’m not sure why. There is always some level of creepiness to any funeral home. But, I’m not generally bothered by this. This particular evening I was in a panic, so much so that I was sweating. To begin with, I decided to go to the Men’s Room before I headed down the staircase. The Men’s Room is upstairs, in the columbarium. As you approach the Men’s Room you first pass the Women’s Room is to the left. As I passed the Women’s Room I heard a loud “TAP” come from inside that darkened room. I stopped and stared. Nothing stirred in the room. All was deathly quiet. Surely there couldn’t be someone in there? I rushed into the Men’s Room and locked the door. I did my business and forced myself to leave the security of the locked Men’s Room and back out into the columbarium, keeping a wary eye at the doorway of the darkened Women’s Room. I rushed down the stairs and finished the ‘First Call,” relieved when I was back out into the warm, breezy air of a Midnight Portland, Oregon.
Why do some funeral homes have a major “Creep Factor” and others do not? As I said, all funeral homes have some level of a creep factor. But this particular ‘chapel’, as well as a few others are off the chart in creepiness. I’ve put a lot of thought into why some chapels are creepier than others. My conclusion comes from personal experience and introspection, as well as from talking to others who are also in the funeral service. Most every funeral worker will agree as to which funeral homes are unnerving, and which are not. The main observation is this: in some funeral homes, one feels a presence. One feels as if they are being watched. Some may put this down to being the ambiance of the funeral home (décor, design, etc.). Perhaps the make-up of the funeral home causes one to feel uneasy. But, there’s more to it I feel. Some funeral homes truly are active.
Before someone thinks that I simply have an active imagination, consider this. I’ve been in dozens of funeral homes. I’ve been in funeral homes during the day, during the evening, in the middle of the night and in the wee hours of the morning. I’ve lived above 3 different funeral homes. I’m not afraid of funeral homes. My belief is that most funeral homes are not noticeably haunted. However, there are 4 in the Portland/Vancouver area that I feel are noticeably haunted. This is not just my belief, but the belief of many in the funeral service.
I don’t believe that funeral homes are more active than other places. Nor are they less active than other places. In my opinion, a ghost is just as likely to haunt a house as a funeral home. A ghost is just as likely to haunt a forest as a cemetery. Why do some spirits choose to linger in a funeral home? I don’t know. Perhaps the spirit (or spirits) who haunt a funeral home were once workers there. Or perhaps they died in the building. Whatever the reason, they generally leave a very uneasy impression upon the person who senses them.