Lizzy and her husband were a happy, and well-to-do couple many years ago, as the story goes. This all changed once Lizzy discovered that her husband was having an affair with their housekeeper. After being confronted about his infidelity, the husband decided that he did not wish to stay with Lizzy. He pushed her down the stairs, and she plummeted to her death. Hauntings include sounds of thumping on the stairs, lights flickering on and off, and loud screeches in the night. One night, a teenage boy was walking in front of the house, and a group of boys drove up to where he was. They jumped out and proceeded to beat him up, rob him, and eventually kill him. One of the boys looked up at the house and noticed a white, floating figure coming towards him. He called to his friends, and they left. The person that reported the murder to the police only identified herself as Lizzy.
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Showing posts with label Pennsylvania. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pennsylvania. Show all posts
The Gettysburg College Library - Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Once, two highly acclaimed administrators ventured into the basement of the library. While there, they saw a doctor in clothes reminiscent of clothes worn in the Civil War, who asked them to come and help. Also during this brief moment of horror, the witnesses claim to have heard the screams of patients and the sight of blood as well. The two witnesses quit their jobs the following day, never to return. It turns out that this place was the site of a field hospital during the Civil War after the Battle of Gettysburg.
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Gettysburg College: 60 Chambersburg St. - Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
This building has been standing since the summer of 1863, but the section in which this particular apartment is located was added later. It is reported that the apartment is haunted by an inquisitive ghost named Chuck. Reportedly Chuck would whistle around the apartment for hours on end. Chuck is also said to turn electronic appliances on and off and once he even rewound the VCR to watch a humorous scene again. It is also reported that once Chuck lifted a woman�s hair off her shoulder and made it stand straight out�on the other side of her head.
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General Wayne Inn - Merrion, Pennsylvania
Now a synagogue and Center for Jewish Life, the General Wayne Inn was once the longest continually operating restaurant in America. Opened in 1704, the building served as a tavern, general store, wagon stop and post office. Folks like George Washington and Lafayette dined and stayed at the inn, and in 1795 it got its name. General “Mad” Anthony Wayne completed a successful military campaign and stopped at the inn for a 3-day celebration of his success. In the course of things the inn was renamed for him, and until very recently, the name stuck.
Stories suggest that a Revolutionary War soldier got accidentally locked in the basement while hiding from his enemies. Legends say he died there—but there are also other versions to the story. Some claim Hessians in the area sent one of their own to get wine from the cellar, not knowing that there were armed revolutionaries hiding in a tunnel or hidden location (the story varies, as they often do) there. It ended badly for the Hessian, and people have reported seeing his ghost, wearing the uniform he would have died in.
Most of the ghosts that have been reported through the General Wayne Inn’s lengthy history date back to the period of the Revolutionary War. Some shook glasses in the bar; others caused the lights to flicker and napkins to be strewn throughout the dining area. Furniture in a locked room would be toppled by mysterious interlopers. Locked doors occasionally opened by themselves. Women sitting at the bar reported feeling someone’s breath on their necks, and no, it wasn’t a lonely bar patron looking for a date. It seems to have been something even more frightening.
Psychics visiting the Inn years ago claimed to see ghosts of soldiers, one in particular reporting that a Hessian soldier had been killed by a spy in the cellar and buried behind one of the Inn’s walls. The body was not found, but in the psychic’s defense, the search was called off early.
Some claim the building was built on a Native American burial ground, but there seems to be little historically to agree. And although most of the deaths and hauntings seem tied to one particularly bloody period in American history, there was, much more recently the murder of one of the Inn’s owners.
Shortly before the murder of restaurateur Jim Webb, radio station y100 was going to hold an annual Halloween séance at the Inn. The medium reportedly was too anxious to do the normal séance there—participants claim he warned Webb that the spirits were telling him something bad was about to happen. The two business partners had purchased the General Wayne in a state of disrepair, intending to restore it. But the task was bigger than they expected. As the business faced financial difficulties, Webb and his business partner, Guy Sileo, argued over how to handle the dwindling fund. One was ready to pack it in, the other wanted to redouble their efforts.
Then, on December 27, 1996 Sileo found Webb’s lifeless body in his office at the Inn. Webb had been shot. Suspicion was quickly cast on Sileo, but the Assistant Chef, Felicia Moyse, provided his alibi. She and Sileo were having an affair. She passed a lie detector test and later she committed suicide in February as Sileo awaited trial. Sileo changed his story, saying that Moyse had killed Webb because Webb never approved of their extramarital affair. Sileo was found guilty and is now serving a life term in prison.
Today the General Wayne Inn is little more than legend and memory. The traditional stone has been stuccoed and the building looks quaint and modern. The building’s new owners have decided to focus on their mission and goals, and rightfully so. Some even claim they’ve put the spirits to rest.
Crying Toddler - Towanda, Pennsylvania
This house small house en route to Towanda is said to be haunted by a variety of apparitions. Most people that live there, leave after just a few weeks. Some have reported seeing an elderly man walking to an out-house and an elderly woman hanging clothes out to dry. One family reported having heard their young son tell someone “I do not want to play with you anymore.” Just a few minutes later, it is reported that the toddler ran out of the room crying. Allegedly, his “friend” had made his toy kangaroo spit in his eye and hit him in his face.
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Resurrection Cemetery - Trexlertown, Pennsylvania
In the 1940s, a young lady lived across the street from the cemetery. After becoming infected with tuberculosis, the girl died and was buried in a white party gown. It is said that on dark nights, one may see a bright, illuminating figure of a young girl walking along the side of the road. It is said that if one stops, she will ask him for a ride home because she is lost. Once they get past the cemetery�s property line, however, the girl disappears.
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House on King St. - York, Pennsylvania
In this house, a family of four was brutally murdered. Since that time, the family is said to haunt this house. There are reports of footsteps emanating from the attic, though it is blocked off. It is said that lights will flash on and off, cabinets will open and close, and doors will slam. There is also one report of a little boy of no more than seven appearing in various rooms of the house but disappearing when anyone says anything.
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The Handprint in Cell 17 - Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania
Carbon County Jail/Old Jail Museum, Jim Thorpe (PA)
In the modern-day town of Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania there is a small jail cell with an apparently long memory. Cell 17 of the Carbon County Jail bears a testament to one man’s innocence in the form of a single handprint on the wall. On “The Day of the Rope” (June 21, 1877) ten men were hanged because they fought for better treatment and better working conditions for their people. One of them, a bold ringleader named Alexander Campbell placed his hand upon the wall and swore it’d stay there as proof of his innocence.
It has.
Once a rag-tag group of Irish immigrants terrorized the coalmine country of Pennsylvania, and for good reason. Times were hard and the Irish—the newcomers trying to survive the Potato Famine and political hardships—had wrongly believed America would welcome them. Instead, they got sucked into the vicious drudgery of working the coalmines in northeastern Pennsylvania and thousands of men, and the boy children working beside them, died as a result.
The coal regions of Pennsylvania bear the scars of those desperate days, some places continue to seep twisting, smoky ghost-like wisps from the ground as fires still burn in the tunnels and shafts far below the surface. It makes for a haunting scene, and there are more reasons than just physical sparks and flames.
Living in tiny houses and knowing they owed everything they earned to “the company store” grated on the proud Irish. Through legal means they established the Worker’s Benevolent Association and made small progress, the group being shut down by the powerful railroad magnates and coal companies who stood to profit from gouging the public with high fuel costs. Public opinion was easy to turn against the Irish and quickly the very coal miners who were dying of “black lung” as they struggled to pay their bills were getting blamed for the rising cost of coal. The companies took advantage of the situation, reducing workers’ wages by 20%.
Hard workers, but not ones to play the submissive, the Irish organized and took on the name “Molly Maguires” (also supposedly using the “The Ancient Order of the Hibernians” as a front for their activities). They did whatever they could without any political power of their own to make change happen. Desperate times quickly led to desperate (and sometimes illegal) measures and the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad (under Franklin B. Gowen) sent a Pinkerton Detective to worm his way into the organization, gain their trust and bring them down.
The Pinkerton (James McPharlan, a.k.a. Jamie McKenna) was very successful. He befriended the Mollies and in the course of 3 years he gathered (and in some key cases supposedly fabricated) enough evidence to bring down some of the most important men in the area. One of them was Alexander Campbell. On the day he was hanged, Campbell again claimed his innocence and rested his hand on the wall of Cell 17, swearing his handprint would forever remain as a sign of his innocence. He was forcibly removed and hanged on the gallows built for the occasion.
His handprint still remains. Sheriffs have tried to remove it over the years, but to no avail. They’ve tried cleaning it off, painting it over and even tearing down the wall and rebuilding a new one. Regardless of their method, the handprint returns as if seeping through from another dimension.
Today the jail has been closed and is known as the Old Jail Museum. Tours are run regularly and the story of Alexander Campbell is still told to the amazed tourists. Some visitors still report an eerie sensation lingering in Cell 17. Could it be some small sense of satisfaction still sticks to the wall with the handprint as Campbell’s ghost observes the scene, a true testament to one man’s innocence?
Read more >>
In the modern-day town of Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania there is a small jail cell with an apparently long memory. Cell 17 of the Carbon County Jail bears a testament to one man’s innocence in the form of a single handprint on the wall. On “The Day of the Rope” (June 21, 1877) ten men were hanged because they fought for better treatment and better working conditions for their people. One of them, a bold ringleader named Alexander Campbell placed his hand upon the wall and swore it’d stay there as proof of his innocence.
It has.
Once a rag-tag group of Irish immigrants terrorized the coalmine country of Pennsylvania, and for good reason. Times were hard and the Irish—the newcomers trying to survive the Potato Famine and political hardships—had wrongly believed America would welcome them. Instead, they got sucked into the vicious drudgery of working the coalmines in northeastern Pennsylvania and thousands of men, and the boy children working beside them, died as a result.
The coal regions of Pennsylvania bear the scars of those desperate days, some places continue to seep twisting, smoky ghost-like wisps from the ground as fires still burn in the tunnels and shafts far below the surface. It makes for a haunting scene, and there are more reasons than just physical sparks and flames.
Living in tiny houses and knowing they owed everything they earned to “the company store” grated on the proud Irish. Through legal means they established the Worker’s Benevolent Association and made small progress, the group being shut down by the powerful railroad magnates and coal companies who stood to profit from gouging the public with high fuel costs. Public opinion was easy to turn against the Irish and quickly the very coal miners who were dying of “black lung” as they struggled to pay their bills were getting blamed for the rising cost of coal. The companies took advantage of the situation, reducing workers’ wages by 20%.
Hard workers, but not ones to play the submissive, the Irish organized and took on the name “Molly Maguires” (also supposedly using the “The Ancient Order of the Hibernians” as a front for their activities). They did whatever they could without any political power of their own to make change happen. Desperate times quickly led to desperate (and sometimes illegal) measures and the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad (under Franklin B. Gowen) sent a Pinkerton Detective to worm his way into the organization, gain their trust and bring them down.
The Pinkerton (James McPharlan, a.k.a. Jamie McKenna) was very successful. He befriended the Mollies and in the course of 3 years he gathered (and in some key cases supposedly fabricated) enough evidence to bring down some of the most important men in the area. One of them was Alexander Campbell. On the day he was hanged, Campbell again claimed his innocence and rested his hand on the wall of Cell 17, swearing his handprint would forever remain as a sign of his innocence. He was forcibly removed and hanged on the gallows built for the occasion.
His handprint still remains. Sheriffs have tried to remove it over the years, but to no avail. They’ve tried cleaning it off, painting it over and even tearing down the wall and rebuilding a new one. Regardless of their method, the handprint returns as if seeping through from another dimension.
Today the jail has been closed and is known as the Old Jail Museum. Tours are run regularly and the story of Alexander Campbell is still told to the amazed tourists. Some visitors still report an eerie sensation lingering in Cell 17. Could it be some small sense of satisfaction still sticks to the wall with the handprint as Campbell’s ghost observes the scene, a true testament to one man’s innocence?
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