Ghosts, Graves, and Goosebumps: A Night on Boston’s Haunted Trolley Tour

Katherine: If you’re going to hang out with the dead, you may as well do it in a city where they never really left.

Kelsi: Boston doesn’t just lean into spooky. It thrives in it. Colonial cemeteries, gaslit alleys, and more restless spirits per square foot than we were emotionally prepared for.

We climbed aboard the Ghosts and Gravestones Haunted Trolley Tour for a night of eerie storytelling, candlelit graveyards, and one unforgettable ghost host named Bernard. And let’s just say, we didn’t sleep great that night (in the best post-ghost tour possible way).

First Impressions: The Creepiest Man We’ve Ever Trusted

Bernard didn’t storm onto the trolley. He crept. Silently. Slowly. Like he had nowhere to be and 300 years to get there.
All black clothes. A wide-brimmed hat. A bone-white contact lens in one eye. And a half-skull mask that made it look like his face had partially decayed, but he was still showing up for work. Gravedigger vibes with Boston energy.

Kelsi: He didn’t say a word at first. Just stood there. Watching. Which—great. Love that in a confined space.

Katherine: But somehow, we were immediately on board. Like, “Yes. This is our leader now. Take us to the ghosts.”

He finally introduced himself in a voice that was way too calm for someone wearing half a skeleton, then launched into the night’s first story with zero fanfare. No welcome aboard. No warm-up. Just immediate goosebumps.

Stop One: Copp’s Hill Burial Ground — History That Won’t Stay Buried

Our first cemetery stop was Copp’s Hill Burial Ground, a 17th-century graveyard perched in the North End.

The moment we stepped off the trolley, the atmosphere shifted. The air got colder. The streetlights felt too far away. Even the silence had weight.

We wandered between crooked tombstones as Bernard guided us through stories of Boston’s oldest burial ground.

Body snatchers, mass burials, and frozen winters when the dead had to be stacked until the earth thawed.

And then came the part where, according to Bernard, early Bostonians thought it would be a great idea to steal gravestones and use them to build the foundations of their homes.

Katherine: Nothing like a haunted kitchen to really tie the place together.

Kelsi: Boston said, “Do we respect the dead? No. But we will repurpose them.”

Katherine: Reduce, reuse, resurrect.

Cruising Through Charles Street: The Boston Strangler’s Haunting Ground

Back on the trolley, things got darker.

As we made our way down Charles Street, Bernard shifted the tone and told the story of the Boston Strangler, a series of still-unresolved murders that terrorized the city in the 1960s.

It wasn’t gory or dramatic. It was quiet. Disturbing. The kind of storytelling that sticks to your skin.

Kelsi: There’s something about hearing that kind of story while physically driving past the buildings where it happened. It messes with your head a little.

Katherine: It felt less like a history lesson and more like the city whispering its nightmares.

Final Stop: Granary Burying Ground — Founding Fathers and Other Spirits

Our last stop was the Granary Burying Ground, where some of Boston’s biggest names are buried. Paul Revere, John

Hancock, Samuel Adams, and a few thousand lesser-known souls with equally dramatic exits.

By this point, we’d adjusted to the darkness. But this place hit differently. Still. Watchful. Like the kind of place where secrets don’t stay buried for long.

We were met at the entrance by a second ghost host. Full cloak. Full commitment. She took us on a candlelit walk through the cemetery while Bernard stayed behind. She pointed out tombs and told stories that made these historical figures feel just as haunted as the grounds they rest in.

Katherine: She introduced Paul Revere like she was on a first-name basis. Honestly, she probably was.

Kelsi: It felt like walking through Boston’s group chat from the 1700s. The drama? Alive and well.

Then came a casual mention of one of the eeriest details of the night. A book, bound in human skin, housed just behind the cemetery at the Boston Athenæum.

Katherine: Nothing like learning there’s a literal flesh-bound book casually hanging out at a nearby library.

Kelsi: Bernard told us not to visit it alone. Noted.

The stories we heard were layered. Part history, part legend, part “we’re going to need to Google that later.” The perfect ending to a tour that made the past feel very present.

Bernard: Our Bone-Chilled Guide Through It All

Let’s be clear. Bernard made the night.

He wasn’t a try-hard character actor. He didn’t need fake blood or cheap scares. He told Boston’s ghost stories like they were family history. Calm. Confident. Occasionally unhinged, but in a way that made us trust him even more.

There was one moment where he briefly danced down the trolley aisle. Not in a look-at-me way. More like a haunted punctuation mark before the next unsettling tale.

Kelsi: He made the line between performance and possession feel very blurry.

Katherine: I don’t know what plane of existence Bernard operates on, but I hope he never leaves it.

Final Thoughts: A Tour Worth Losing Sleep Over

The Ghosts and Gravestones tour didn’t rely on gimmicks. It gave Boston’s haunted history space to breathe, then handed it over to someone like Bernard to make it unforgettable.

If you’re into cemeteries, true crime, or the kind of stories that make you walk a little faster back to your hotel, this is the tour.

Kelsi: Just maybe don’t sit in the back. That’s where the ghosts ride.