The Legend of Abraham Mortimer

This is the site of the once-industrious Cataract Coffin Factory.

At the turn of the century, Abraham Mortimer ran a thriving coffin business at the top of Clifton Hill. He was obsessed—every waking hour spent in his factory, surveying each coffin's construction, consumed by his growing empire.

But the neighborhood kids saw only an eccentric old man, ripe for tormenting. Night after night, they'd sneak onto the property with pranks and dares. Abraham would chase them off, shouting threats they never took seriously.

Until one night, they pushed too far.

Abraham confronted a group of thrill-seekers who'd broken in on a dare. In the chaos, a towering stack of solid oak coffins came crashing down. Abraham Mortimer was crushed to death beneath his own merchandise.

The guilty fled into the night. No one was ever charged.

After the funeral, groundskeepers made a disturbing discovery: Abraham's grave had been disturbed. His coffin lay empty, unearthed in the dark.

They say he never left.

To this day, Abraham Mortimer walks the halls of his abandoned factory, waiting for the next group of thrill-seekers foolish enough to trespass on his property.

You've been warned.