The Leprechaun of Laurel Grove Cemetery.

One cold January afternoon a friend and I decided to walk through Laurel Grove cemetery in Port Townsend Washington where the intricate beautifully hand-crafted head stones seemed to beckon to us as we drove by. I have always loved old cemeteries for the beauty of the old headstones and the stories they told.

On this particular afternoon, my friend and I had separated, she would read the headstones to understand the family histories of a town built on the heels of the gold rush and I would photograph them. Black and white photography brings out the craftsmanship and detail in these old tombstones and seems to tell a story on its own.

While bending down to shoot a pair of infant gravestones I hear my friend shriek “Is that a leprechaun in that tree?” I immediately stop what I’m doing, and say “What the hell are you talking about?” My friend points to a tree in the far-left corner of the cemetery, and says “Look up there, there is a Leprechaun tied to that tree.” I roll my eyes, and shake my head, place my hand over my eyebrows, and look up to the tree. “Well I’ll be damned that is a stuffed weathered Leprechaun” I say in total aww that my friend wasn’t completely full of shit. My mind immediately begins to race with a million different scenarios running through my thoughts as I wonder why and how that Leprechaun got in that tree.

Initially I ponder “Was Leon the Lion Hearted Leprechaun (The name I have affectionately given the leprechaun in this story) placed in that tree to protect the cemetery? Was he placed here so he could come alive at night to ward off the evil yard gnomes that storm the cemetery walls from the neighboring homes behind the cemetery, looting the gifts that were left behind by loved ones for the dead? Is the stuffing that is protruding from Leon’s sides from battle with these yard gnomes who use nails as swords? Does Leon use the bungee to hold in his stuffing while fighting off the yard gnomes, and protecting the bunnies, and deer?”

The next story that rolls through my mind, and I say like a fool out loud to my friend who seems to be in deep thought herself, “Dude do you think that the Leprechaun is an evil Leprechaun that comes alive at night, and eats the bunnies, deer, and unexpecting tourists like us? If I hear footsteps I am running like hell to the car!” We both laugh our asses off over that and mention the horror movie Leprechaun.

As we walk on through the cemetery, I can’t help but to think of the Leprechaun in the tree, I wonder is he was the beloved toy of a young child that is buried in the plot of family graves that he overlooks. Maybe the Leprechaun is a protector of some sorts, placed there to look over a soul that may have been lost or needed luck.

For days, even months after the encounter with the Leprechaun I spent many of my free moments trying to find out the origins of this Leprechaun. I emailed the city of Port Townsend, tried reaching out to someone with the Laurel Grove cemetery, and even went through local history to try to find legend or folklore of leprechauns and the dead, but I found nothing.

My heart breaks a little for that lonely lifeless Leprechaun that was bungeed to that tree some time ago. Who is now the watcher over the quiet little cemetery in Port Townsend.