I can't say I have any unexplained experiences, myself. I lived for about a decade on one of the so-called "Indian burial grounds" and was told plenty of stories by my neighbors and family. Where I lived was certainly no burial ground, but I believe the legend may have some basis in truth as I would find signs of past settlement when I would hike and explore the mountains. My favorite find was a huge natural rock slab where I would naturally pause to eat. It has a few deep, wide holes ground into it: it was a giant grindstone! Exploring out there is almost certainly what lead me to Anthropology.
My older sister says she saw a pair of severed feet in our fireplace once night, though that may have been an attempt to scare me. One neighbor had stories of being attacked: choked in her sleep, pushed down stairs, and held down by something large, indistinct, and completely covered in hair. The stories ranged from harmless to scary, some involving curses and magic. Even when the indigenous groups (primarily Cherokee and Chumash were most commonly named but I have not been able to verify Cherokee) who had been driven from the area weren't demonized, they were made to be otherworldly. Stolen land is stolen land, and people find odd ways to justify it, even generations later.
There is also the anxieties of isolation and helplessness, living in a mountainous area with one road out, predators (the sounds coyotes, lynx, and mountain lions make are certainly bone-chilling!), and no cell service. I can remember looking into the treeline at dusk, seeing nothing past the tangle of dead trees but for the shine of animal eyes. It was certainly a place with presence, in whatever capacity.
As I worked on this project, I spoke with friends and family about their experiences and ideas of death and ghosts. Its fascinating how many of us, without any belief in the paranormal or personal experience, hold superstitions so dear. Commonly, people I spoke with considered it rude to walk on graves and like to leave offerings for the dead. Most I spoke with leave flowers, kind words, a prayer, or, for loved ones, a kiss. For myself, I also leave a little pebble or stack a few stones. It is a custom I first engaged with at a small folk cemetery off the side of a highway as a child. The practice just stuck, as did the beauty of those graves. I hope to find that cemetery again one day so I can better understand it.
Do you have any stories, customs, or experiences surrounding death, the afterlife, and ghosts? I would love to hear them!