OK, not a ghost in sight, but devilment is afoot at Princeton Cemetery

It isn’t the dead that cause problems, but the living

By: Courtney Gross
   Decades ago, Douglas Sutphen, the longtime superintendent of the Princeton Cemetery, settled down in the small, white house imbedded among the rows upon rows of graves in the cemetery to watch a scary movie.
   As the rain pelted against the windows, Mr. Sutphen was startled by something else, sounds of something unnatural — possibly supernatural — from outside in the graveyard.
   No, it wasn’t his imagination, nor was it a ghost. Instead, a 6-foot-6-inch man was hovering over a grave, desperately digging up the remains of his deceased father, Mr. Sutphen said.
   To the current and former superintendents of the Princeton Cemetery, it isn’t the dead that cause problems in Princeton’s largest burial ground — but the living.
   Neither Mr. Sutphen, the current superintendent of Princeton Cemetery, nor his father, Claude, a former superintendent, ever spotted Aaron Burr levitating in and about the thousands of graves off Witherspoon and Wiggins streets. Nor have they had any run-ins with the 24th president of the United States, Grover Cleveland, or any of the deceased presidents of Princeton University, all but four of whom are buried there.
   Although some of those eternally settled in the 19-acre graveyard are among New Jersey’s most reputable citizens — from statesman to soldiers and school presidents to physicists — none seem to be habitually haunting the historic site’s visitors, the father and son said.
   Even though otherworldly events may be sparse, the cemetery’s roster of potential ghosts is still pretty impressive.
   Juan and Kitty Menendez — killed by their sons, Eric and Lyle, in a notorious California murder case — are buried near the graveyard’s children’s area, while Elizabeth S. Thompson, one of 72 people who perished in an 1852 accident on the Hudson River steamboat "Henry Clay," has her resting place at the cemetery.
   Paul Tulane’s massive gravestone — a carved representation of the benefactor of Tulane University who refused to have his likeness face Princeton University — displays his backside toward the school.
   And a plethora of other inhabitants rest below unmarked graves from days, such as during the Great Depression, when Princetonians may have been unable to afford a marker.
   Other stones are worn beyond recognition and some records predating the early 1900s were destroyed by a house fire, the superintendent said. The historical gaps can only leave the lives of some of the cemetery’s tenants up to the imagination.
   Although the stories surrounding grounds’ occupants could fill a multitude of history books, the younger Mr. Sutphen, a fourth-generation cemetery caretaker, said it still seems unlikely any haunt the Princeton Cemetery.
   Beneath the cemetery’s canopy of trees, thousands of graves — some dating back to the Revolutionary War era — recall lives lost in tragedy and triumph. Three black gravestones read "September 11, 2001," while white, marble markers from the 18th century bear no English, only Latin.
   With all of the history and romantic epitaphs scattered throughout the acreage, the cemetery is more of a historic park rather than a graveyard, Claude Sutphen said. His tenure at the cemetery spanned almost three decades, from 1972 to 1998.
   "It’s just a plain old cemetery," the former superintendent said. "I’ve been here for 54 years, and I haven’t seen any ghosts. Not to say there isn’t."
   But others disagree. His son recalled a visit several years ago from ghost hunters who claimed heat-sensitive equipment detected glowing orbs. They concluded the cemetery, about to celebrate 250 years of occupancy next year, was, in fact, haunted, he said.
   Although the younger Mr. Sutphen said he has had some spooky experiences throughout the many years he spent on the grounds, as a child and adult, they have all been perpetrated by the living.
   "These people don’t bother you," he said of those buried beneath the cemetery’s grave markers. "It’s the living that do."
   Given the thefts and incidents of vandalism over the years — although far less than what some cemeteries experience — ghosts are the last thing on his mind, Mr. Sutphen said. From the snagging of the cemetery’s hallmark sign to the theft about five years ago of Aaron Burr’s gravestone (it was later recovered in Sussex County), the Princeton Cemetery itself has seen its fair share of loss.
   As for the visitors, it can be another story.
   Some are spooked to leave the graveyard’s twisting driveways, Mr. Sutphen said, while a spattering of the 1,000 annual visitors come searching for spooky tales of the cemetery’s inhabitants.
   Despite the fear felt by some visitors, the Princeton Cemetery is still a very desirable place to spend eternity.
   As space continues to tighten, the superintendent said, many Princeton residents have purchased plots years in advance. Estimating a vacancy of approximately 50 graves, his father added, some interior roadways are being removed to make room for graves.
   And with new graves comes more potential for hauntings — supernatural and ghostly encounters that can be integrated with some of the most reputable residents ever to grace Princeton.