I just remembered another one from back home in Maine.
In the area I grew up (very rural northern Maine) there are abandoned cemeteries scattered all over the countryside. I guess they are the only remnants of "ghost towns" that went belly-up back in the day. Some are unmaintained, but some are still occasionally mowed by surviving family members.
One such "abandoned" cemetery (the kind that got mowed about once a year just to keep the forest from consuming it) was located abutting a dirt two-track that goes from Houlton to Linneus. The most recent date on any headstone I could read was about 1910 or so. Most graves dated from the 1860's and earlier. The two-track was one of those roads my brother and I used to take the 4x4 Ford Ranger down to have a good time "boonie-bouncing". On two occasions, my brother and I would have a mechanical breakdown right next to the cemetery. This Ranger was known to eat ignition modules, so we carried a spare (along with the special thin-wall socket needed to change it) in the glove box. Once, we stopped to walk the cemetery to look at the headstones. When we got back in the truck, it wouldn't start. Fried ignition module. We were glad to have a spare. The second breakdown, we were just driving past and had no intention of stopping... until the rear u-joint let go, and the truck dropped the driveshaft right there in the road... EXACTLY in front of the cemetary... in the middle of the night. Let's just say we both looked at each other, then wasted no time in grabbing the tools, unbolting the remains of the driveshaft, tossing it in the bed of the pickup, and driving out of there in front wheel drive (we put it in 4x4 and hit the gas, rear driveshaft or no rear driveshaft).
Not quite as powerful as my later experience described in my previous post, but a freaky coincidence nonetheless.