Sarah M. Boye is a public historian, author, and speaker whose work uncovers the hidden histories shaping Orlando’s communities. She created the City of Orlando’s Greenwood Cemetery Digital Walking Tour and contributes to local storytelling projects such as Parramore Speaks, a collaborative oral history initiative between UCF and the City of Orlando. Her upcoming podcast, Beneath the City Beautiful, brings these stories to life for a wider audience.
If you visit Greenwood Cemetery (Website) after dark, as Orlando’s days grow shorter (but before the gates are locked at 7 p.m.), you might notice traces of melted wax or the remnants of old flowers near the stone mausoleum tucked into the oldest part of the cemetery. Some say that if you knock three times with the heavy metal handles and whisper “Fred Weeks,” you will hear a faint reply echo from inside. Others swear they’ve seen a shadow move nearby, or felt a sudden chill as they passed the door of the mausoleum.
Locals call it one of Orlando’s oldest hauntings. The story goes that in Orlando’s earliest days, Fred Weeks, a wealthy Englishman, was cheated out of a land deal by three dishonest men. As revenge, he purchased a plot in the cemetery and built a tomb inscribed with their names beneath a biblical verse testifying to their treachery. When the men saw their names carved in stone, they demanded that he remove them, but Fred refused. Only after threats of lawsuits and social disgrace did he finally relent, erasing the names but leaving the accusatory verse.
According to legend, the scandal was so great that Fred’s wife, Grace, could not bear the humiliation. She is said to have taken their children and fled north, leaving Fred alone with his rage and his tarnished reputation. When he died, she supposedly refused to return for the funeral or to be buried beside him in “that cursed tomb.” Some say his ghost has lingered ever since, knocking from within the stone walls, waiting for her forgiveness that never came.
Over time, the tale has taken on a life of its own. Visitors have been known to leave offerings, burn candles, and hold séances near the tomb, convinced that Fred’s restless spirit still guards his final resting place. These rituals, though well-intentioned, can cause damage to the historic site and are discouraged by the cemetery’s caretakers. The legend endures as both a love story and a warning that pride and vengeance can follow us even into death.
The real story, however, is more human than haunting. Historical research shows that Fred Weeks was not English at all, but a real-estate investor from Maine whose ill-fated land deal did indeed spark a public feud that made headlines in early Orlando. In truth, Grace never left him. The childless couple remained together in their Maitland home until Fred’s death in 1918, and she lived there quietly for several years afterward before moving to Oklahoma to be near family. The mausoleum inscription that once named his rivals was removed, but the scandal became the stuff of local legend.
Today, more than a century later, the Weeks mausoleum still draws visitors who come searching for truth, ghosts, or both. Its weathered façade and quiet presence in Greenwood’s oldest section remind us that history often lingers in unexpected ways.
You can explore the true story of Fred Weeks and his famous feud on Greenwood Cemetery’s official digital walking tour, HERE. So, if you find yourself wandering Greenwood on a moonlit night and notice the faint glow of someone else’s candle, resist the temptation to add your own, or to knock on Fred’s heavy stone doors. The dead have already told their story.
