The treasure is still there

According to a spooky tale I heard some years ago, there is a trove of what might have been pirate’s treasure buried next to a cemetery somewhere in Acadia Parish.
I don’t know which cemetery, and I don’t know just how far the phrase “next to” might extend, But the legend has it that if you should by chance go to the right cemetery on Halloween night you will know it when you get to the spot. But the legend also says that knowing where the treasure is and actually digging it up are two entirely different things.
One Halloween night many years ago, according to the tale that I think I heard first from Mary Alice Fontenot, four young couples took shovels, climbed into their cars and drove to this cemetery to see if they could find the hidden riches. They parked the cars so that the headlights would shine into the graveyard and they began to look around.
Just as they had been told, a certain spot seemed to pull them toward it. It had an eerie glow coming from it and they were irresistibly drawn to it.
They set to work with their spades. It was almost midnight, and they wanted to find the treasure and be gone from that scary place before the witching hour.
They had a good-size hole dug when the scary things began to happen.
It had been a still night, but the wind suddenly began to blow, gently at first, then stronger and stronger. At the same time, the light from their cars began to dim. The more the wind increased, the dimmer the lights got, until the headlights went dark altogether.
The eight treasure hunters were left knee deep in a pit near a graveyard on a pitch black night with an eerie wind howling around them.
They did what anybody would do. They dropped their shovels and ran like they were being chased by a ghost.
They jumped in their cars and tried to start them, but the batteries were completely dead. They were stranded in this haunted place with who knows what howling around them.
Then the wind stopped as quickly as it began. The night turned deathly quiet.
The couples warily got out of the cars and crept back toward the hole they’d dug.
But it was no longer there. The hole was completely filled and the shovels were neatly stacked on top of the bare earth marking the spot where it had been.
Once again, the treasure hunters turned tail and ran like the dickens.
This time, their cars started without any problem; they didn’t look back as they sped away.
As far as anyone knows, the horde of treasure is still next to that unnamed cemetery, awaiting another brave Halloween adventurer. The pile of old shovels may still be there, too,
A collection of Jim Bradshaw’s columns, Cajuns and Other Characters, is now available from Pelican Publishing. You can contact him at jimbradshaw4321@gmail.com or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.

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