When it comes to weird gravesites, it's hard to compete with the United States. Sure, you've got the The Smoked Mummies of Papua New Guinea, The Sedlec Ossuary, or the Paris Catacombs, but here, we have Vampire Graves, the Grave of a Space Alien, The Grave of Bigfoot, or even a Grave with a window. One of the weirdest final resting places, though, belongs to a werewolf.
Tucked away in Talbott County, Georgia is the grave of Emily Isabella Burt, a woman widely believed to have been a werewolf. Like all good stories, this one has gone on to be legend, though one that is all but forgotten these days.
As the tale goes, the wealthy Burt family were prominent members of the town now known as Woodland. Unfortunately, the patriarch of the family died fairly young, leaving Mildred Owen Burt to care for her children alone. Rather than dote on them all day, Mildred shipped her kids off to school in Europe, which should give you an idea of how wealthy the family was.
When Isabella, the shyest of the children, returned from Europe, her family began to notice that she was complaining of isomnia and slipping off in the middle of the night. Isabella claimed that she was going out for a midnight stroll, unable to fall asleep, but her mother couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
At the same time, local farmers were dealing with a rash of sheep killings, waking in the morning only to find their fields littered with the mangled carcasses of their livestock, seemingly the victims of a wolf attack. Together, the farmers concocted a plan to end the slayings once and for all, and started nightly hunting parties with the intention of capturing or killing the beast responsible. After weeks of failed attempts, the frustrated farmers consulted a strange old man from Eastern Europe, a man who claimed to know what they were up against. According to him, it was no regular animal - it was a werewolf.
The old man instructed the farmers to wait for the next full moon and melt down silver crucifixes and fashion them into bullets. Just as the old man had said, the hunting party came across the silhouette of a giant, wolf-like creature in the light of the moon, and fired their rifles in its direction. One shot connected, and the creature ran off after letting out a painful scream. The attacks never happened again.
Meanwhile, on the very same night, Mildred had followed Isabella into the woods, eager to discover what her daughter was up to all night, only to find her daughter passed out, bleeding from her hand. It appeared that she had been shot.
After the wound had been patched up, Mildred sent Isabella off to Paris where she visited a doctor that specialized in "lycanthropy". According to all the legends, she returned to Georgia a few years later, cured of her mysterious ailment, and lived out the rest of her life peacefully. In 1911, at the age of 70, Isabella died, and after much controversy, was buried on holy ground in the Owens and Holmes cemetery in Talbot county. To this day, there are residents who believe that her spirit, in werewolf form (of course), still roams the countryside on a full moon.
The curious can still visit the Grave of the Georgia Werewolf in Woodland, but you might want to bring along some silver bullets, just in case.