I couldn’t quite figure out the paranormal aesthetic of Copp’s Hill Burying Ground: there was an eerie, fantastical aura about the place, shrouded as it is by mist and curling vines, that made it feel like the pumpkin patch from “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” There, too, were the rolling hills and jagged tombstones […]

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“JFK’s not here,” Sue told me. “A French king, sure. A colonial woman. A Revolution-era paymaster named Ebenezer. The spirit of a dead chef. But not JFK.” Sue is the manager at the Union Oyster House, the country’s oldest continuously-operating restaurant and one of Boston’s biggest tourist traps. My roommate and I were seated across […]

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