Interesting Tales from Oak Hill Cemetery in Youngstown

On Memorial Day of 2025, we traveled out to Oak Hill Cemetery in Youngstown, Ohio, to find some notable internments and to pay our respects for Memorial Day. We have recently conducted some research for our book and also needed to collect some photographs and video footage.

It was Memorial Day when we decided to visit Oak Hill Cemetery after spending the morning at Calvary Cemetery. Calvary was extremely busy with families paying their respects, flags waving, and visitors filling every path. By contrast, Oak Hill felt silent from the moment we pulled in. The stillness hung in the air in a way that felt unusual, especially for a holiday when cemeteries are normally full of people remembering loved ones.

As we stepped out of the car, the first thing we noticed was the absence of visitors. Not a single car was parked nearby. There were no distant footsteps, no murmured conversations, and no fresh flowers being placed beside headstones. It struck us as odd that such a historic cemetery would be completely empty on a day of remembrance. The quiet was so complete that it felt heavy.

As we began walking deeper into the cemetery grounds, Shawn paused several times and looked over his shoulder. He described the unmistakable sensation of being watched even though there was nobody else in sight. The air felt still, with no breeze to explain the uneasiness. It was as if the presence was close, silent, and observing. This feeling followed us throughout our visit and seemed to grow stronger the longer we remained.

Our first stop was the grave of David Todd, one of the most notable figures buried at Oak Hill Cemetery. He served as a former governor of Ohio and was known for his close friendship with Abraham Lincoln. Todd also stood on the platform during the Gettysburg Address, witnessing one of the most important speeches in American history. As we stood at his resting place, we realized the deep connection this cemetery has to the nation's broader story.

We continued to the grave of James Hillman. Surrounded by weathered markers, his plot stood quietly among others from long ago. The cemetery seemed to hold its breath as we walked. Even the birds were oddly quiet, leaving only the sound of our footsteps on the gravel path.

Next, we made our way to the grave of William Rayen. His name carries immense significance in Youngstown history, and visiting his resting place offered another moment to appreciate the heritage preserved within Oak Hill. The atmosphere felt unchanged from the moment we arrived; it remained still and silent, as if watching us.

One of the most meaningful stops during our visit was the cenotaph of George D. Wick. Although he perished in the tragic sinking of the Titanic and is not physically buried here, the memorial stands in honor of his life and legacy. The stone felt solemn in its quiet corner of the family plot, standing as a reminder of how far-reaching even local history can be.

We spent nearly two hours walking among the older sections, winding through narrow paths and tall monuments. Despite the time that passed, we never saw another person. No cars entered the cemetery. No visitors appeared from a distance. The silence was unbroken from the moment we arrived until the moment we left.

We have read accounts in the past about a dark entity believed to linger within Oak Hill Cemetery. Some reports assert that this presence roams the older sections, often felt but rarely seen. Based on the overwhelming feeling of being watched during our visit, it is easy to understand why these stories persist. The atmosphere felt charged in a way that is difficult to explain.

One theory is that the entity is linked to Charles M. Sterling's spirit. He was convicted and executed in Mahoning County for the murder of a young girl. Many believe he may have been wrongfully accused. He remains the only person ever executed in the county and is said to be buried in an unmarked grave. If there is unrest in Oak Hill Cemetery, his troubled spirit could be the reason. Our experience that day certainly made us wonder.

Lizzie Grumbacker and Charles M. Sterling

The story of Lizzie Grumbacker is one of the most tragic and unsettling events to come out of Mahoning County history. It is a tale that blends a heartbreaking loss, a sensational trial, and a lingering question that has echoed for more than a century. Even today, the mystery surrounding her death and the fate of the man accused continues to spark debate among historians and true crime researchers.

Lizzie Grumbacker was a young girl living in the Coitsville and Youngstown area during the mid-1870s. She was only fourteen years old and was described as quiet, polite, and from a hardworking family of German heritage. Life in Mahoning County at the time was rural and simple but also filled with difficulties that came with growing industry and shifting communities. For Lizzie, the winter day of January twenty-first in 1876 began as an ordinary afternoon.

That ordinary day took a grim turn when Lizzie was attacked in the eastern part of Boardman Township. The location was near the hill that would later be associated with the Center Street Bridge area of Struthers. It was a remote place at the time, a mixture of wooded ground and small paths that families and workers used to cross between town areas. Somewhere along this route, Lizzie crossed paths with the man who would later be accused of her murder.

The crime itself was brutal and shocked the entire county. Lizzie was found dead on the hillside, and the details that circulated quickly spread fear and outrage through the community. Newspapers described the scene in emotional terms, emphasizing the cruel nature of the attack. People in Mahoning County demanded justice, and the search for a suspect began almost immediately.

Before long, attention turned toward a man named Charles M. Sterling. Sterling was a transient figure, someone who moved from place to place and did not have strong ties in the area. His presence near the crime scene drew suspicion, and the authorities arrested him. From the moment he was taken into custody, the case became a public spectacle.

Sterling was first tried in Canfield, where the courtroom filled with people eager to watch the proceedings. It was reported that so many spectators tried to get inside that admission had to be charged, and the money was given to support Lizzie's grieving family. Despite the heavy public interest, the first jury could not reach a verdict. Sterling remained in custody as authorities prepared for a second trial.

The second trial brought even more attention. The details of the case, the evidence presented, and the emotional testimony created a storm of public opinion. Many believed they were watching the dramatic unraveling of a monstrous crime. Others, however, felt that the case rested too heavily on circumstantial evidence. Sterling maintained his innocence, but the atmosphere surrounding the trial was tense and unforgiving.

After days of testimony and argument, the second jury returned a guilty verdict. Sterling was sentenced to death by hanging, a punishment that reflected both the severity of the crime and the public pressure that had built around the case. His execution was scheduled for the following year, giving the community time to both reflect and prepare for the final chapter of the story.

On April twenty-first, 1877, Charles Sterling was hanged in Youngstown. Reports from the time describe crowds gathering near the jail yard, waiting for news of the execution. The event brought a somber end to the official story, closing the legal case but not the questions that would surface long after Sterling was gone.

For many years, the case remained a tragic but settled piece of local history. It was spoken of as a reminder of a dark moment and the consequences that followed. Lizzie was remembered as an innocent young girl whose life was taken too soon. Sterling was remembered as the man punished for the crime. Yet as decades passed, new voices entered the conversation.

Long after the execution, a man reportedly confessed to killing a young girl in the Youngstown area many years earlier, claiming that the wrong man had been hanged for the crime. The confession stirred old memories and raised the possibility that Sterling could have been innocent. Some found the confession credible. Others dismissed it as unreliable. What it did accomplish was reopening the case in the minds of many who had accepted the original verdict without question.

The controversy surrounding the confession added another layer of mystery to an already emotional story. It raised questions about the limitations of the justice system during the nineteenth century. It forced people to reconsider whether public pressure may have influenced the outcome of the original trial. And it renewed interest in Lizzie herself, reminding the community that the truth behind her death may never be fully understood.

Today, the story of Lizzie Grumbacker and Charles Sterling remains one of the most haunting tales in Mahoning County history. It combines tragedy, uncertainty, and a lingering sense of injustice that refuses to fade. People who research the case often find themselves torn between sympathy for the young victim and concern about whether the man punished for her death was truly guilty.

The hillside where Lizzie was found has changed over the years, but for those who know the story, the land still carries a sense of sorrow. It is easy to imagine how quiet and isolated it must have been back in 1876 and how quickly a peaceful winter day transformed into a horrific moment that changed the community forever.

As with many nineteenth-century crimes, the truth may remain permanently obscured by time. Records fade, memories change, and firsthand accounts disappear. What is left is the story, passed down through generations, told and retold by those who want to preserve the memory of a young girl whose life was taken too soon and the man whose fate remains clouded in uncertainty.

Whether Sterling was guilty or innocent may never be known with absolute certainty. What does remain clear is that the story continues to resonate today, reminding us of the fragile balance between justice and error and the deep impact that a single tragedy can leave on an entire community.