There is an extremely old graveyard at the edge of my city. It has a name, but the marker is so old and worn that it's unreadable. Around here, people just refer to it as the "Veteran's Graveyard." The gravestones themselves are so old and crumbling that they're all pretty unreadable as well. They stick up in haphazardly all over the small hill and, it's unfortunate that nobody seems to look after them, although you will see an occasional bouquet or wreath on one or two markers.
One day while driving home, I passed the graveyard and glanced to my right when a movement caught my eye. A man (first visitor I'd ever seen in the graveyard) wearing an old, yellowed suit and tie, with old yellowed slacks that flared at the bottom, like bell-bottoms, was walking among the tombstones. He inclined his head slightly (and mind you, this was all within a split second) and I got a look at his face: blue eyes with a shaggy mop of hair, sideburns running down the length of his face and a big brown mustache. He looked like he came straight out of the 1970s.
And then, to my horror, as he continued to walk, he simply disappeared! Right before my very eyes, I kid you not! I pulled to the side and got out of my vehicle. Daring not to step into the graveyard, I wandered up and down the street, contemplating what happened. The cemetery was in a big open space on the little hill, and there was nowhere the man could've hidden. Finally deciding that it must've been a spirit of some kind, I drove on home, smiling a bit to myself... for the man had a great big old smile on his own face right before he vanished. I like to think where ever he was or where ever he'd gone to, at least he was content.