Oakwood Cemetery: a night in Austin’s oldest cemetery

Oakwood Cemetery is the oldest cemetery in Austin, Texas: it dates back to 1839. Locals described it to me as the place with the most paranormal legends in the city. I walked it during the day, at 36 °C (97 °F), and stayed until nightfall next to the grave of the most famous legend, to see whether the paranormal phenomenon was as real as people say.

Note: the videos are in Spanish. This page is the full story in English.

A cemetery from 1839

Oakwood began in 1839 as the city cemetery and only got its current name in 1907. More than twenty thousand people rest there: Texas pioneers, and sections historically set aside for Austin's African American, Hispanic and Jewish communities. There are also hundreds of unmarked graves: on the south side, for a long time, people who couldn't afford a headstone were buried without one.

In 2016, while the cemetery chapel (built in 1914) was being restored, human remains were found underneath: an estimated twenty-five burials, in the area that was then called the "colored grounds", the segregated section for Black residents. In other words, not everyone in Oakwood has a grave.

Today it is a Recorded Texas Historic Landmark and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. From Comal Street it also has one of the protected views of the Texas State Capitol.

The legends of Oakwood

What people talk about most, both neighbors and tour groups, are wandering shadows, and not around just any grave: around the unmarked ones. There are also stories of voices and whispers picked up with radios and recorders and, something that caught my attention, not only in English but also in Spanish. And the classic of many cemeteries: the sudden chill some people feel at certain graves, although with the heat that day I seriously doubted it.

But the most famous legend is that of a girl who shows up in visitors' photos. Always in the same place, next to the grave of a girl of about twelve, wearing a long, old-fashioned, pinkish dress from the early 1900s. According to what I was told, most of those photos were taken at blue hour, just as the sun goes down. In one of them a couple took a photo by a tree and the girl appeared on the other side; in another, a human-shaped shadow peeked out from behind a monument.

Today it is very easy to fake a photo. That's why, rather than arguing about the image, what I do as an investigator is go to the place. And if possible, alone: that way the area is under control and I know any whisper isn't from someone else.

The daytime walk

I walked the whole cemetery at 36 °C with all the water I had on me. There are incredible graves: a metal structure covering the grave of a woman, Mary Murphy, born in 1788, the oldest person I found. Also many graves with stones on top, a Jewish tradition as a sign of respect: the more stones, the more people remember them. And graves that hurt, like that of a one-year-old baby next to those of the parents.

The investigation at blue hour

At sunset I set up next to the grave of the legend. The headstone says she was born in 1895 and died in 1907, aged twelve; the name is very worn and I couldn't read it properly. I placed two devices on either side, in the area where the girl appears in the photos, and a sound recorder to capture the ambience.

I asked in English and in Spanish: if anyone was there, if they could touch the green or the red light, if they could say my name, if they could stand in front of me. I took photos, like visitors do, in case something showed up. I walked among the graves with the microphone out in front, by then barely able to see: I didn't want to turn on the flashlight and draw attention in a cemetery open in the middle of a neighborhood.

I heard kids' voices and even a child crying, but they were real kids from the neighborhood, and I said so at the time. The devices didn't register anything all night. The only thing I did feel was discomfort: I didn't feel alone, although that may simply be the feeling of being in a cemetery at night.

"In all the hours I was here, absolutely nothing happened. Does that mean the phenomenon is a lie? Not necessarily: the paranormal phenomenon is random. Maybe tomorrow it happens and today it didn't."

Nothing happened that night. And that is investigating too

I could have sold this night as something more. I don't. Going, measuring, asking, documenting and telling what happened, even when nothing happens, is the difference between investigating and putting on a show. If there's evidence, great. And if not, it was a beautiful walk through one of the most impressive cemeteries I've ever seen.

And something I always repeat: you have to go to these places with respect. Don't leave trash, don't break anything, don't shout or provoke. It's the home of many people.

The videos (in Spanish)

You can also watch the cemetery preview and two shorts: the secret of the unmarked graves and why this grave is covered with stones.

On the same trip to Austin I also toured the Texas State Capitol and the story of comptroller Robert Love's ghost.

If you visit

Oakwood Cemetery is in East Austin, around 16th and Navasota streets, with an entrance on Comal Street. It is a municipal cemetery open to the public: check the opening hours before you go and, above all, respect the place.