While many put up Christmas lights on November 1, others wait until December rolls around. Some lean into the fall ambiance until Thanksgiving passes, while others use it as a turkey-filled holiday intermission. Personally, fall is my favorite of the four seasons, and the splendor of Halloween never lasts for only one day in my house. So, reading Haunted Arizona Deadly Graveyards: 13 Fatal Cemetery Stories by Jethro Blanch, in mid-November was a no-brainer.
Intended for history buffs and paranormal enthusiasts alike, Haunted Arizona details 13 chilling tales, every one set at a local cemetery. Blanch sheds light on an overlooked part of Arizona’s history—the entire state is engulfed in frightening paranormal activity and heartbreaking tragedies, with stories taking place from down south in Nogales Cemetery to Greenwood Cemetery in central Phoenix and all the way up to Clear Creek Cemetery in Camp Verde.
One might assume they are in for the time of their lives with this book, ready to read detailed accounts of spooky sightings of ghostly apparitions, Haunted Arizona takes a different turn. Reading more macabre and unsettling, this book takes a dive into the mind of living humans more than it does the dead. Each of the 13 tales focuses on deaths that have occurred at local graveyards, many accounting tragedies of suicide. While I left this book more somber than scared, I did appreciate Blanch’s meticulous attention to detail, accompanying visuals, exceptional ability to draw the reader into the story, and easy-to-digest writing style.
Thousands lay to rest at graveyards all over the state, but we don’t often realize how many deaths have occurred at the burial grounds themselves. And while we often talk about the ways in which ghosts haunt an area—the noises they make, the objects they move, the living they disturb—we don’t often unpack why they have been left behind to haunt. Haunted Arizona takes a double meaning here. These graveyards may be haunted by sinister specters, but even if not, they are haunted by heartbreaking history.
Death is arguably the hardest part of life, and losing a loved one has, or will someday, haunt us all. Blanch documents several stories in which widows, star-crossed by the grips of death, have taken their own lives to join their lovers in the afterlife. Detailing not only the lead-up and their methods, Haunted Arizona narrates the aftermath—those who were impacted by the deaths, those who found notes and left-behind belongings, and the graveyard employees working that day.
A few tales included, like that of Eulogio Molina of Nogales, aren’t necessarily so disheartening, but rather mysterious. Molina, a graveyard employed by Nogales Cemetery, fell over dead and into a grave he was filling on June 7, 1930. While ironic and strange, his death was a shock to the Nogales community. Another puzzling parable included from 1964, is that of 59-year-old Ward Orin Bradish Sr., whose decomposed body was found at Evergreen Cemetery Miracle in Tucson, a month after his initial disappearance. Laying among the tall weeds and a surprise to the entire community, police eventually ruled his death was caused by natural causes. Though, this story left the nearby neighborhood, and the 28-year-old man who found him, scratching their heads in confusion.
Haunted Arizona may not be the bone-chilling collection I expected it to be, but it is still worth the read. Hauntingly beautiful, some stories are downright sad while others are interesting and peculiar. The illustrations for each chapter help your mind visualize the stories and the detailed narration makes you feel as though you are hearing a recount of these deaths from someone who lived them. Maybe these stories aren’t the easiest to digest, but they are still worth being told. If you are interested in real-life, stark and sad pieces of Arizona history, this will be a good read. If you like to keep things light and fun, this isn’t the ghost story for you.
Until reading this book, I never realized just how haunted Arizona’s graveyards truly are.