The truth is that I didn't need realize the response I'd get about my visit to the cemetery so the few pictures I took sucked on that trip. However, I have revisited the cemetery to get some more pictures to share.
I have done some research on this cemetery and found that there was a small town named Adamsville just down the road from the cemetery. In 1900 the town flooded and a lot of people died. They were buried in an extended part of the cemetery and nobody knows exactly how many people are buried there because only the important people have headstones. I found another document saying that the people in Adamsville had been doing a rain ceremony shortly before the flood and cut the head off a chicken. The people on the Indian reservation across the street thought they were performing witchcraft and a fight broke out. Here is what is left of Adamsville:
The whole reason why I wanted to visit the cemetery were the 'witches' graves near the road. I couldn't find much information about these witches except for the hint of witchcraft that I mentioned above. Notice in the pictures that there are no headstones and someone occasionally puts flowers on the graves. Here is a better picture of the witches graves.
My experience in the cemetery was interesting. First of all, I never get scared in graveyards, but this one had me on edge the moment I stepped out of the car. I was wearing capris that day that went to my knees. The first strange thing that happened was when I walked into the cemetery. The front of my legs started itching and burning. The feeling was intense enough to offer discomfort but not to put me in pain. I ignored the sensation and kept exploring the place. The itching/burning left as quickly as it came about 5 minutes later.
The second incident was right before we left. I heard a woman's voice in the small patch of trees in the corner of the cemetery. I asked Dan if he'd heard anything and he said no. I didn't go over there on this trip but did on my second. Take a look at the pictures. The first one shows that there are no houses in the area that would allow a woman's voice to travel from. The second shows the patch of trees where I heard it from and the third is the single grave among the trees.
The third thing was a picture I took on the 2nd trip there. My daughter says the blur is my finger. I tried retaking the picture with my finger in the same location and looking the same way. The second picture is the closest we were able to get and was taken at a different location. I don't think it looks the same. You be the judge...
Here are some random pictures of the cemetery. As you can see, the place is worn out and has been vandalized. It makes me sad to visit because I see the attempt that someone makes to better the place without much luck.
Guess what else? My daughter has convinced Dan to take her there at night. I won't be going! Instead, I'll be begging local friends to let me hang out at their houses while my family goes ghost hunting.