I feel like I've recommended Nate DiMeo's wonderful The Memory Palace in the past. But just in case I haven't -- or just in case you've callously refused to listen to my heartfelt pleas in the aforementioned past -- this is pretty much the perfect starting place.
Something was off with Charlie Victor Faust. Something was atypical (as we might say now) with the way his brain worked. History hasn’t left us enough clues to sort out quite what; we’re just left to try and translate…
It's not the first time I've bumped into the strange story of Charlie Faust, but it's definitely one of the more engaging recountings I've heard. (As is near everything Mr. DiMeo does. Listen to him, please.)
Also, please read the Rob Neyer piece DiMeo mentions in the program notes, called "Farewell: What's Left of Charlie Faust."
In this cemetery, Charlie is sui generis. Everybody else has one of those old numbered markers, and most also have one of the new monuments. Only Charlie has a small, shiny aluminum marker with his birth and death dates (rather than just years); only Charlie’s grave shows evidence of visitation, with four nickels resting atop his numbered marker. We may safely assume, I think, that I’m not the first The Glory of Their Times devotee who’s been here.