The Most Haunted Places In Every Us State

[Winchester]

Just in time for Halloween! The most haunted places in every US state. What is your state's most haunted place? Have you been there? Do you agree with the article for your state?

The Most Haunted Place in Every State

 

[blueyedgirl5946]

This is interesting. I hope I have time to read them all.

 

[Kat0121]

I think this would be a matter of opinion. I was expecting Florida's to be this one

Castillo de San Marcos' History

or the Riddle house which is profiled below Castillo de San Marcos in the link

This is what they listed for us

 

[muffy]

I hope everyone post their own ghost stories. I don't believe in them but I love to read about them.

Muffy

 

[denice]

I hadn't been to the one in Ohio, The Ohio State Reformatory. I guess it was the prison used as the model for The Shawshank Redemption. I know they close for day tours around Halloween and have haunted house type tours at night. There are stories about hauntings, ghost type hunters that spend the night there and people saying they have seen and heard things. I am a skeptic when it comes to that sort of thing.

 

[Mamanyt1953]

The article says:

The Omni Grove Park Inn in Asheville, but for my money it would be Maco Station, a few miles from Wilmington. In 1867, the caboose of a train came uncoupled on a dark and rainy night. The conductor waved his light frantically to warn the train advancing behind him, to no avail. The train collided with the caboose, killing Joe Baldwin. On some nights, a light sways from side to side along the tracks, advancing faster and faster. It could be Joe, looking for his head. I've actually been there with a friend, and you can see a light moving along the tracks.

 

[AbbysMom]

I knew even before I clicked it would be the Lizzie Borden house. I think there probably are more haunted places in Massachusetts, but this is the most well-known. When I first got married I lived in Fall River about a mile from it. Now I'm around ten miles away. No, I have never been because I get creeped out by those kinds of things.

 

[mightyboosh]

I live in Lancashire 'state' and stayed overnight in supposedly one of the most haunted houses in the UK. It's called Chingle Hall and was built in 1260 by Adam de Singleton so it's had lots of time for any number of spooks to make themselves comfortable. I wonder if the older ghosts tut tut at the younger ones saying, 'These young ghosts today, they have no respect for the older generation.'
I didn't see a darned thing!

 

[Draco]

Amityville House

Ever see The Amityville Horror? If so, then you're probably familiar with the fact that the film's story was based on a real haunted house in Long Island, New York. (Well, actually it's based on a book by the same name - but that is based the actual house.) On Nov. 13, 1974, Ronald DeFeo Jr. shot and killed six members of his family in their Ocean Avenue home. A year later, George and Kathy Lutz and their three children moved into the house and claimed to have been terrorized by paranormal phenomena the entire time they lived there. A priest heard “get out!” when he arrived to bless the house (he later allegedly experienced a fever and stigmata on his hands); the house was constantly plagued with flies even though it was wintertime; a mysterious red room was discovered behind shelving in the basement; cold spots and odors appeared where no wind drafts or piping existed; green slime oozed from the walls; a crucifix revolved on the wall until it turned upside-down; there were numerous sightings of demonic pigs and other figures; George saw Kathy suddenly transform into an old woman of 90; and all sorts of door slams, banging noises, windows opening and closing, and mysterious music from unknown sources terrorized the Lutz Family. They lasted 28 days before moving out.

They keep changing the address of this house so we can't find it easily. but I have seen it, didn't look like anything special from the outside, but knowing the past murder, it's creepy.

Not listed in the slideshow:
The Legends of Lake Ronkonkoma
Lady of the Lake
In a nutshell, myth has it that an indian princess drowned in the lake in 1600's.. and every year since, she'd take a victim into the lake and drown them. usually men.

Haunted Sweet Hollow Road ghost spirit investigation by Long Island Paranormal Investigators - Ghost Haunted Demonic Investigation Ghost Hunter New York NY
Sweet Hallow Road/Mt Misery

Long Island Haunts: 13 Creepiest Haunted Places on Long Island
and other places on Long Island

 

[betsygee]

This place is only about an hour north of us and I've never been. I even have a brochure for it sitting on my kitchen counter because I thought it would be fun to take our grandson. Now I'm inspired to set up there and see it.

 

[kashmir64]

I personally don't believe in ghosts. That being said, I love to watch Zak Bagans and his crew on Ghost Adventures. I am also anxiously awaiting when Coast to Coast becomes Ghost to Ghost on Halloween.
If I were to ever have an experience that cannot be explained by scientific means, my mind may change about it.

Edited to add: Have you ever noticed on the ghost shows how it's always a lady in white? Never a lady in purple or green. Why always white? Was there no other colors?

 

[Mamanyt1953]

If I were to ever have an experience that cannot be explained by scientific means, my mind may change about it.

LOL, once the paranormal has slapped you silly, it does tend to change your outlook.

 

[denice]

A lot of the Civil War battlefields are supposed to be haunted.

 

[muffy]

I personally don't believe in ghosts. That being said, I love to watch Zak Bagans and his crew on Ghost Adventures. I am also anxiously awaiting when Coast to Coast becomes Ghost to Ghost on Halloween.
If I were to ever have an experience that cannot be explained by scientific means, my mind may change about it.

Edited to add: Have you ever noticed on the ghost shows how it's always a lady in white? Never a lady in purple or green. Why always white? Was there no other colors?

I used to watch that show until one time they showed Zak being raped by a ghost. I kind of stopped watching after that happened. I think the Travel Channel have some good shows.

Muffy

 

[Mother Dragon]

I don't believe in ghosts but a lot of things happen around my house that cannot be explained. We've named our poltergeist Harrigan. My husband doesn't believe in him but there are a lot of things he can't explain.

We had an old radio that's batteries had been dead for many years suddenly start playing at full volume one night although it was turned off. My husband turned it off again, but a few nights later it began playing again. He removed the batteries that time.

I had an atomic clock that had been dead for over five years suddenly start working. The batteries lasted another two or three years. When my husband replaced the batteries at last, it was fine upstairs. He brought it down and it went blank. He took it back up and it worked perfectly. It worked all the way down the stairs and went blank again. The it suddenly started working and has kept perfect time ever since. However, it didn't compensate for daylight savings time at the change. Then, about a month later, it reset itself to the correct time.

Then there's the mystery of the exploding tabletop. We have a big 6' long glass tabletop in the breakfast area. One night I heard a tremendous crash. I didn't hear my husband swearing so I didn't pay any attention. I knew he was upstairs. The cats were snoozing with me. A little while later he called me to come to the breakfast area. The tabletop was missing. Well, it wasn't on the base of the table. The table top had shattered into thousands of pieces. Glass was everywhere. The largest piece was about 15" long and about 5" wide. The rest was small bits and tiny shards. They were scattered over an area 15' x 15'. We swept up over 200 pounds of broken glass. Two years later I found some more tiny shards in a place that had been swept multiple times. There was no one and nothing near the table when it happened. The glass had not been damaged by anything. Harrigan just wanted to get our attention, I guess.

He still wouldn't leave the table alone. We once walked in to find the new glass, which was heavier and a bit bigger than the old one, tipped onto its long side, resting on two of the chairs. Everything that had been on it was in heaps on the chairs and floor. Fortunately, the laptop was safely propped on one of the chairs. A mostly empty bowl of green beans lay shattered, shards of Corningware, green beans, onions, and bacon strewn about. Melted ice from tea puddled under the chairs. The napkin holder was empty, its contents sopping up some of the spilled liquids. The Cuisinart Griddler was on its side, dripping grease onto the floor. It took Robert about an hour and a half to clean everything up. I helped him put the tabletop back onto its base, where it again sat securely.

One afternoon, Robert came into the bedroom and said urgently, “I need your help.” That meant something was REALLY wrong. And it was. The tabletop had tipped again, this time onto its short side. It slid about 3.5’ and came to rest on the bay window ledge. Another inch or two and it would have gone right through the window. Naturally, no one was close to it, although this time, Robert heard it tip. The new glass is both thicker and larger (4’ x 6’) that the old one and considerably heavier. Struggle as we might, we couldn’t budge it. Most of our friends have bad backs, so we couldn’t appeal to them for help.

Finally, in utter desperation, we called our daughter, Ahliana, and asked if she were coming to karate that night. She was, so we asked her to drop by after class to give us a hand. It took her, Talesia (our 15 year old granddaughter) and Robert to get the glass back onto the base. I guess if she hadn’t been able to give us a hand, we’d have to learn to eat on the slant.

Harrigan wet his finger and made a tally mark in the air.

Continued in the next messages. Harrigan is always busy.

 

[Mother Dragon]

More Harrigan:

We were looking for a bottle of medicine one of us needed. We couldn't find it. We launched a thorough search of the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, breakfast room. Nothing. We checked places it couldn't possibly have been, like the car and the motorcycles. It wasn't to be found anywhere. I walked back into the bathroom for something and there, in plain sight, sitting on another bottle in the middle of the countertop, was the medicine. I let my husband know where it was. We know we'd looked there multiple times. It wasn't there. Well, at least we'd found it. Later, I went back to take one of the pills and the bottle was gone again. I've forgotten where we found it again, but it was far from where I'd seen it last on the counter.

I have a little plastic compartmented box where I keep my loom knitting accessories like scissors, measuring tape, needles and threader, etc. The stuff is important to making the chemo caps I donate. Last year, right before Christmas, it was on the bed when I finished one cap. I started a new cap and needed my scissors. The box had vanished. We took the bed apart, looked everyplace under and around it, searched the recycle bin, scoured my knitting bag, and even searched the car. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. It’s gone. I got a new box and tried to replace the missing items, but I’m not even sure what all was in there. I got most of the things, at least as much as I could remember.

We went to Robert’s sewing class on January 7th. There had been no class since the week before Christmas. When the box disappeared, we went to Hobby Lobby and checked the sewing classroom because I sometimes take my knitting to work on while Robert sews. Robert searched the room thoroughly but did not find it. Sure enough, Robert’s sewing teacher found the box and gave it to me at last week’s class. OK, so it seems I’d left it there, right? Wrong. In the three weeks there was no class, I’d completed three caps, and all of them required stuff that was in the box, including scissors, needles, a needle threader, and other things. I know I’d used them. I couldn’t finish a cap without them. They could not have been in the classroom. Yet, there the box was. Harrigan loves to steal things and then put them in highly improbable - or even impossible - places.

I had an alarm clock that kept going off at random times even though the alarm was turned off. And the times it went off were not the times the alarm was set for. Sometimes it would give only one chirp and others it would blast until we could turnout off. I finally replaced it.

One night I woke up to the TV suddenly blaring. I yelled at Robert to turn it down. He replied from the bathroom that he thought I’d turned it on. I turned it off. Nothing and no one had been around the box where the control is kept. No cats, no me, no Robert. It just turned itself on. A few days before, the remote had disappeared. It’s barely possible to control the TV, tuner, and cable box, but it involves about 20 different buttons and combinations to change a channel. The control was found a couple of days later behind the TV, where it couldn’t possibly have been put. My right shoe walked across the room and hid by the clothes basket. And the new alarm clock went off, unbidden. Velcro’s old, missing collar was found inside a cabinet. My new electric blanket kept turning itself on.

Then Robert’s clock started acting strangely. Our rarely-used, battery-operated Big Ben alarm clock joined in the fun a time or two, shattering the quiet with its cacophonous ring.

I was sitting in bed, loom knitting. I put down my pick to wind on another row. I put the pick in Chocolate’s bed, which was right beside me. I knew it couldn’t get under the covers or roll away. I reached for it about 45 seconds later and it was gone. We searched Chocolate’s bed (there aren’t any hiding places in it, but still…) We completely tossed the covers and searched the floor. I looked into my skein of yarn. We searched inside the pillow cases. We emptied the box where we keep the remotes for the TV and fan, plus other stuff we want to keep handy. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t behind the bed. It wasn’t stuck in Chocolate’s fur or my hair. It wasn’t in my clothes. It had, quite simply, vanished. I finally had to get another pick. The first one hasn’t turned up yet, or at least we haven’t found it where it couldn’t be in the first place. I’m sure it’s in a piece of meat in the freezer or buried in the attic insulation.

But wait! There's more!

 

[Mother Dragon]

Yes, Harrigan is still here.

Harrigan seemed to have left for a while and peace reigned in the house. It might be because there was a big bunch of dried sage left on the table. It was eventually thrown out and somehow, Harrigan heard the news. He moved right back in and made himself at home.

He started back with little things like missing pencils, blinking lights that then went on to burn properly, small items moved. Since that didn’t produce the desired reactions, he increased his pranks. I had three very important prescriptions for my antidepressants. My doctor is old-fashioned and actually writes out prescriptions. I have a special medical notebook with a clear plastic zippered pouch where I put prescriptions, appointment cards, etc. As usual, I put the new scripts in there with some other ones. A couple of months later, I went to retrieve the scripts to have them filled. They weren’t in the pouch. They weren’t in the notebook. They weren’t on the table or under the laptop where I sometimes put things that are important, or in my box of medicines. Fortunately, I had a few extra doses, and Robert and I began a thorough search of the house. It turned up nothing. Robert searched every nook and cranny of the car, including over, under, behind, and and around the seats, glove box, and console. He even looked into the sliding panel of the sun roof. I dissected the bathroom. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I found some old scripts in the plastic pouch and filled them while we continued to search. They were running out, and neither Robert nor I wanted to contemplate me without my meds. We launched another frantic search, while Harrigan watched with great amusement. Again, we found nothing. In desperation, Robert went through the medical notebook again, and opened the pouch I’d gone through at least six times. The prescriptions lay right on top. It was impossible for them to have been there all along because both of use looked through it carefully several times.
I guess Harrigan got filled with holiday spirit early last year. He certainly made his presence known around here.

Robert finished putting down the new breakfast area floor, including staining the new quarter-round to match the wainscoting. We got the finishing nails for installation at the same time we bought the quarter-round. When he went to install the quarter-round, the nails (three packages) he’d set beside his hammer in the corner near the table were gone. They weren’t used as cat hockey pucks. We looked all over the breakfast area, the kitchen, and the den, including under the furniture. No nails anywhere. The hammer was where he’d left it.

He went to Lowe’s and got more nails. He kept them right beside him as he finished nailing the quarter-round in place. The rest of the nails stayed where he put them.

The breakfast area’s wallpaper started to peel loose at the seams. Some of it gaped and some curled. It looked like a peeling sunburn. Since we had a nice new floor, Robert decided to repair the wallpaper, too. He got some wallpaper edge repair stuff in tubes. He applied it according to instructions. The glue dried as advertised, but it didn’t stick. The wallpaper now looked not only gappy, but gooey. He tried taping it in place until the glue dried. The tape stuck to the wallpaper, but the glue didn’t stick to the wall. Enough was enough. He got out his electric staple gun and stapled the paper in place as he glued it. It stayed. It was getting late and he was sleepy, so he carefully put the staple gun by the tubes of repair glue and the repair kit, all on the table, and took a nap.

I was blissfully snoozing away when Robert came into the bedroom and said in a depressed voice, “I need your help.” That tone woke up immediately. I didn’t know how badly he was wounded, but I did know the tone. I was looking for spurting blood when he announced, “It’s gone! I’ve looked everywhere.”

"What’s gone?” His tone suggested our meager bank account had been emptied.

“My electric staple gun. I can’t find it anywhere. I’ve looked and looked. It was on the table, right beside the wallpaper glue when I went to bed. Now it’s not.”

The staple gun, being fairly old, was between a quarter-inch and a half-inch drill in size, so if it had fallen off the table, it would have made a loud thump. Even if it had, it would be right there because it was far too heavy for the cats to move. Again, we did a thorough sweep of the breakfast area, kitchen and den. Robert even looked in the garage. We didn’t even find an office stapler. The table shook with Harrigan’s laughter.

It was now the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and we already had errands to run and food to prepare. The turkey was brining, but that was about all that was done. Now we had to hunt down a good electric staple gun. Robert was chomping at the bit to get the new one so he could get started. We had to go to Walmart and Bed Bath & Beyond first, and he was squirming like a kid.

Robert found one that shot both brads and staples and pounced on it. It was considerably less than the first one. Once home, sitting at the table, Robert quickly unpacked the gun. He’d bought every size of staple it would take. When he went to load it, the feeder wouldn’t close. I tried it without any better results. Harrigan was snickering and pointing. Finally, we found a set of drawings that showed how to load the gun. The staples went inside the feeder. Oh. He tried it and it worked perfectly.

Harrigan frowned mightily.

I turned around to get a tissue from the shelf behind me. What was that? Something was on top of the tissue box. There was nothing there when we left. I’d grabbed a Kleenex from the box then. Now there was something yellow on it. It had a cord wrapped around it. I picked it up and handed it to Robert. “Is this your staple gun?"

He immediately shook his head. “No. That’s a much older one that's been buried in the garage. I haven’t seen it literally in about 40 years. It doesn’t even work. It jammed way back then and I put it aside and never got around to fixing it. I bought a much better one - the one that disappeared.”

Harrigan was doing a victory dance.

 

[Mother Dragon]

Harrigan, The Final Chapter (So Far) (And highly abridged!)

I can’t pin all of the following on Harrigan, but I’m sure he was responsible for a lot of it.

About 3:30 a.m. on last Thanksgiving morning, I heard a loud bang followed by the crack of an explosion. The house went dark. I was at the table with no flashlight. I had the light from my laptop, but I knew I couldn’t lug it through the labyrinth of the den and down the back hall to the bathroom, which I suddenly urgently needed. Harrigan wrung his hands in glee. Inspiration struck and I reached for my little iPad on the shelf behind me. Harrigan glowered and hid the switch from me. About this time my needs went from urgent to desperate. I finally found the switch and coaxed it to produce a screenful of light. Harrigan made a face but was still planning a complication that would prevent me from making it to the bathroom in time. He knocked the iPad out of my hands. Bending over was the last thing I wanted to do, but I managed. The good case did its job and I was once more able to see. Doing a funny hobble-hop while carefully clutching the iPad with both hands, I made it to the bathroom just in time. Harrigan made a ‘next time…' smile.

I made my way to bed, which was about the only thing to do. Usually our power is off only a short time. We have UPSs for the TV, the bed, clock, and weather station, and one for the computers. They all began chirping out of synch. “Beep. Cheep. Chirp.” As they died, they howled constantly for about eight minutes before they went silent. The ones for the TV and computers made it about three hours, but the one for the bed, clock, and weather station hung on for about five hours before it started its death screams. Even Harrigan covered his ears.

About 9 a.m. we realized Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t going to happen on time, if at all. I thought about the whole 800 houses in our neighborhood, most of which also had all-electric kitchens. What a coup for Harrigan! We had some prep done, but all the real cooking remained to be completed. The huge 22 pound turkey would take about 4 1/2 hours to roast. That was after we de-brined it and put the sage butter under the skin, which turned out to be quite a chore. When we were ready to put it into the cooking bag, Robert turned it up so it could slide into the bag. It did slide - and went right through the other end of the bag. Fortunately, it fell onto the cutting board on the table and not onto Robert’s foot and the floor. Harrigan held his sides. We had another bag, but had to put the celery and onions back into the now slippery bird. I figured the sage butter might add some flavor while it rested in the fridge. Of course, we had to call our guests and tell them there would be no dinner unless they wanted salami sandwiches and lukewarm Cokes. They were going elsewhere after they ate with us, so I think they were really relieved.

About 11 a.m. there was another huge transformer explosion. To their everlasting credit, the power company worked hard from the time the first transformer blew until they got it fixed nearly 11 hours later. I think the very loud explosions came from the really tall high power lines that run about two blocks from our house. When the power returned, Harrigan was crestfallen.

We were napping, so we finished our nap before we started cooking. With Harrigan’s help, we sat down to eat about 11 p.m. That was when I realized I’d forgotten to season the gravy at all. I bought two packages of turkey thighs and put them in the crockpot with just water to cover well so they would simmer into a very rich broth. I left out everything but a little salt because I planned to make a turkey thigh slurry for the cats. The broth simmered about 8 hours and smelled rich. I pulled out a small thigh and boned it off. I put it in the mini-processor and added some broth to make a slightly thick slurry. I planned to put the aromatics in after that. Harrigan smiled as I called the cats to dinner. They came running. Velcro was urging Robert to hurry because he hadn’t eaten in at least an hour. Chocolate finally came strolling in, looking sleepy. Robert put the boys' food down first and then Chocolate’s. Darwin took a sniff of his and made burying motions with his foot like he was in the litter pan. Velcro took a few laps and raced away like it was full of hot peppers. Robert picked Chocolate up and put her in front of her dish (she expects this now) and she took a few dainty sips. Then she made an ”ooh, nasty!” face and walked off. Harrigan’s look said, “I told you so!”

A turkey is fairly easy to carve. You cut off the wings, legs, and thighs and then carve the breast into neat slices. Not this turkey. Harrigan must have put superglue in the joints. I attacked it with a sharp carving knife, a boning knife, and poultry shears. I twisted the joints, expecting to hear them pop. The whole turkey moved on the cutting board set on the table. Although the turkey sat for 20 minutes after coming out of the oven, the juices ran past the newspaper I put under the cutting board and onto the table. They spread to soak the napkins, silverware, and a roll of paper towels. Finally Robert helped me hack off the wings, legs, and thighs. The turkey looked like it had been attacked by a starving barbarian. We left the rest of it uncarved. It’ll be boned off and packaged for sandwiches - I hope.

We had leftovers for breakfast. Harrigan must have slept in.

With all the sage I used for brining and cooking, Harrigan should have been long gone. I hope he hasn’t developed immunity to it.

And as for turkey, it’s going to be a very long time before I attempt to fix another one. And I won’t even attempt it if Harrigan is still around.

Believe it or not, these are just a few of the shenanigans Harrigan has pulled over the last about 25 years.

So, do you believe in him or not?

 

[betsygee]

View attachment 201925

This place is only about an hour north of us and I've never been. I even have a brochure for it sitting on my kitchen counter because I thought it would be fun to take our grandson. Now I'm inspired to set up there and see it.

I signed up for a tour of the Winchester House this coming Sunday. Should be interesting.

Mother Dragon You are a wonderful story teller! Why did you name your poltergeist Harrigan?

 

[Kat0121]

LOL, once the paranormal has slapped you silly, it does tend to change your outlook.

Yup. I've often said that it's one of those "until it happens to you" things.