The Borley Rectory Hauntings

What binds a non-earthly soul to the physical dimension? From history and research is seems that it generally lends to a life cut short (usually traumatic in some way), or unsolved business.

There are enough allegations of emotionally charged events at the Borley Rectory, located near the Suffolk border in the eastern portion of England, to fill all of those requirements. During a séance, co-held by Harry Price, a paranormal investigator who had leased the premise in the late 30’s from Reverend Lionel Foyster and his wife, Marianne, he would uncover what he felt to be one of the strongest presences at Borley Rectory. But before we reveal the results of that séance, a brief history of the house is in order.

The history of Borley Rectory begins with the building of a gothic Benedictine monastery in the 13th century. Those were not genteel times and legend has it that a monk and his lovely young love-interest, a nun from a nearby convent, were both done-in while trying to elope the establishment and start a new life together. They were captured and the monk was hung while his fiancé was walled up, alive in the cold walls of her convent. Two lovers torn apart to be isolated forever… Was it she who had been seen wafting through the garden, head bent in sorrow? Was she the girl in white who roamed the property searching for her lost love?

After its stint as a monastery, it was sold off as a residence and a rectory was soon added in 1862 by Rev. Henry Bull and his family. Reverend Bull had become pastor of Borley Church in 1862 and despite local warnings, built the rectory on a site believed by locals to be haunted. Over the years, Bull’s servants and his daughters were repeatedly unnerved by phantom rappings, unexplained footsteps and the appearance of ghosts. Reverend Bull seemed to find these happenings as wildly entertaining and he and his son, Harry, even constructed a summerhouse on the property where they could enjoy after-dinner cigars and pleasurably idle away the time waiting for an appearance of the phantom nun who roamed the property.

After Reverand Bull passed on in one of the more famous of the haunted rooms (the Blue Room), his son Harry inherited the establishment and position until he himself passed on in 1927. Following Harry’s footsteps was Rev. Guy Smith who was so unnerved by the spectral sights and sounds, that he left the rectory just one year after moving in.

After Smith’s hasty departure, the house was then inhabited by Reverend Lionel Foyster and his wife, Marianne. The house only seemed to be getting warmed up as their experiences grew in intensity and frequency. Without any explanation, they found themselves locked out of rooms, windows would suddenly smash and personal items would vanish under their noses. Ịt wasn’t uncommon for them to hear unnerving noises from all over the house. As time went on, these mischievous antics turned aggressive and Marianne was actually accosted one evening. She was thrown off her bed in the middle of the night and even slapped by invisible hands of which she was helpless to do anything about! The final straw was when she was nearly made unconscious by a mattress that was held over her face. Someone obviously didn’t like Marianne. Perhaps it was jealousy from a female ghost that caused these physical transgressions?

The involvement of Harry Price came about after a paper asked him to investigate these poltergeists activity following a popular story written by the paper. It was during his investigation that writings on the wall started to appear, usually when Marianne was present. The writing’s ghostly owner seemed more sympathetic to Marianne compared to the other ghosts as some of the messages scrawled were, “Marianne, please help get” and “Marianne light mass prayers”.

Price was more of a guest at the manor until the Foysters moved out in 1935 at which point he leased the house for a full year for deeper investigation. Now that Price had the house to himself for an extended period, he ran an ad for other paranormal investigators to help him monitor and document the ghostly activities. He had to weed through some not-so-savory types though, but he ended up working with 40 people to uncover some of the fascinating history of Borley Rectory.

During a séance, an alleged spirit named Marie Lairre came through and told the group that she had been a nun in France but had left her convent to marry Henry Waldegrave, the son of a wealthy family whose home had previously stood on the site of Borley Rectory. The tale turned grim when she declared that her husband had taken her life and placed her remains in the cellar. To Price, she seemed to fit the profile of the ghost that haunted Borley Rectory.

One spirit during a séance even gave a fascinating prediction that the former nun’s body would be found in the ruins. Though the spirit said the house would burn down that night, thus revealing the location of the bones, it wasn’t until 11 months later that a fire was started by the new owner, Captain WH Gregson, as he was unpacking library books when an oil lamp fell over and started a fire. The fire spread fast through the manor and the rectory was in shambles, later to be demolished in 1944.

Since previously unattainable areas were now exposed, Price decided to excavate the cellar where he indeed found a few small bones, which seemed to be those of a young woman. Was this the proof needed to validate the story of the betrayed nun? Regardless who the woman was, she was given a proper religious burial and finally laid to rest.

L'Empire de la Mort

by Jeff Belanger

Avez-vous vu un fantôme?" I asked the man at the ticket counter in my best French if he has seen a ghost. "Je ne sais pas," was his reply. The man smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Last week, I spent three days in Paris, France and had the chance to visit the Catacombs. I knew there were human bones stacked in the tunnels under the city, but I wasn't prepared for just how many. I was ready to hear more accounts of the moving shadows and ghostly voices that have been reported in those bowels of Paris throughout the centuries, but I wasn't ready for how the experience would make me feel.


The Catacombs of Paris are a network of tunnels and caves that run for more than 300 kilometers under the city. To build a city, you need materials. The Romans were the first to quarry the limestone in the area in 60 B.C.E.; however, those quarries were the open-air kind -- the Romans just dug out the rock that was exposed. As the city grew and covered the landscape, tunneling would be required to get more building materials. In 1180 C.E., Philippe-Auguste became King. He was a major proponent of tunneling to quarry in order to build ramparts to protect the city, and it was under his rule that this tunnel network would truly be born.


The quarries grew in size and complexity and produced building materials for centuries to come. Quarrying continued with reckless abandon until problems began to arise. In the eighteenth century, the city of Paris (and the weight of its buildings) continued to grow as the ground became more hollow underneath. Some buildings began to collapse and fall into the earth that was opening up below them. On April 4, 1777, the Inspection Générale des Carrières was formed to manage, fill in, or close sections of the tunnels deemed dangerous.


It was during the eighteenth century that a second problem arose for Parisians -- the graveyards were getting full... very full. The Cimetière des Innocents (Cemetery of the Innocent) alone held more than thirty generations of human remains. 


Taara, as she is known in the Paris underground, is the author of a Web site on the Catacombs. She said, "Families used to pay the parish priest to bury their dead in here [the cemetery near the church]. The priest didn't want to refuse money, so after a while, of course, there's no more place [to put the bodies]. So many priests decided to build a sort of house for dead people, which is called a 'charnier' [mass grave]. The dead accumulated there."


As the emerging city enclosed around the cemeteries, there was no place to go but up. Near the end of the life of the Cemetery of the Innocent, as well as several other cemeteries, the ground swelled more than ten feet above the road. The smell was tormenting those who lived in close proximity to the graveyard. Some of the cemetery walls actually broke open, spilling rotting bodies onto the street. Soon after, disease took hold of those living in the vicinity, and people began dying from the pestilence spread by the corpses.


The decision was made to start emptying the cemetery and to place the bones into the network of tunnels under the city. In 1785, when the bones were moved to the underground network en masse, the quarries became the Catacombs. The first quarry that received the bones is called 'Carrière de la Tombe Issoire.' 


Disturbing the dead is a bit of a universal taboo. It's understood across many cultures that one should leave the dead alone, and many go through great care to perform rituals and ceremonies to see their departed loved ones off to the afterlife. However, the living will usually take precedence. 


On a sunny, early autumn day, I walked into the Catacomb museum located off the Denfert-Rochereau Metro stop in the Montparnasse section of Paris. For five Euros, I was on my own and descending into the Catacombs. 


I walked 130 steps down a spiral staircase that led me 20 meters below the surface. I first encountered two rooms full of photographs containing images of ancient graffiti from within the Catacombs as well as some of the below-ground structures. After passing through the two small rooms, I was into the actual Catacombs. The ceiling of the tunnel was as low as six feet and as high as about 12 feet. The lighting was very low, but my eyes quickly adjusted. 


Very few people were in the tunnel when I took my tour. I passed one young couple who were shining a flashlight into every corner. I took note of the texture and contour of the walls and the crunching of damp gravel under my feet. The only other sound was an occasional drip-drip from somewhere around me -- parts of the ceiling were collecting water, and when the puddle got too heavy, it dripped to the ground.

I spotted some dated carvings and some graffiti I couldn't read, but I kept walking. The tunnel made 90-degree right and left turns, and my pace quickened. I felt as though I were in a tunnel -- nothing more. I began to wonder if I was in the right place at all. After a few more long tunnels, rights, and lefts, I approached some painted pillars surrounding a narrow doorway. There was a sign on top. Arrete! C'est ici L'Empire de la Mort -- "Stop! Here is the Empire of the Dead." Due to the difference in darkness between the room I was in and the tunnel beyond, I couldn't really see what was in there. I paused for a moment and slowly walked into the Ossuary of Denfert-Rochereaux.

In a passage no more than six to eight feet in width were stacks of human bones and skulls. At the doorway they were stacked about four feet high. The empty skulls greet those who enter with empty, but powerful stares.

About three feet in, I stopped completely and looked around me. Nothing but the ornate patterns of bones and skulls as far down the tunnel as light would allow me to see. Within the entire Catacombs, there are more than six million bodies stored -- only bones now. I don't know how many tens of thousands of people were located along the 1.7-kilometer stretch that I walked that day. 

In different sections, the skulls formed patterns within the stacks of arm and leg bones. There were crosses made of skulls, Valentine hearts, arcs, and other groupings. The stacking of bones was intricate, symmetrical, and very macabre. I tried to imagine how the people who had to stack these bones must have felt. Dumping millions of human remains down a 20-meter hole is not very respectful of the dead. Perhaps the meticulous care in the arrangement of the remains was the workers' way of trying to give some dignity and beauty to the deceased.

The place I visited was the official Catacomb museum -- the tunnel off-shoots were barred so visitors can't get lost -- but the 1.7-kilometer stretch the museum offers is only a tiny fraction of the entire network. There are bones placed in other sections as well. Taara said, "In the non-official Catacombs, the bones are not placed as you've seen them. They are not well-ordered. They are just accumulated in a little gallery. So you have to crawl on them. It's a very strange sensation, but after a while, it's not really different than crawling on rocks." Taara has been a "cataphile" for 17 years. In her younger days, she went into the tunnels several times a week. Now with her job and family, she still gets down below once a month.

In different lengths of tunnel, there were signs marking which cemetery the particular bones came from, along with the date they were placed. The process started in 1785, and the oldest year I saw was 1859. Though the movement of bones to the Catacombs wasn't a nonstop process, for at least seven decades, bones were being transferred below ground.

Taara said, "You can find bones in a very small part of the Catacombs. The most interesting thing is that those quarries are the witness of a great part of history. For example, you can still see traces of the Revolution or other important periods like the Second World War. You can see many places that are fabulously architected, the sort of architecture you can't find now. So it's really a very lovely place, and we are proud to know those places because most Parisian people do not know there's another Paris under Paris."

I did find a few Americans who walked through behind me. I asked what they thought. "It's a little overwhelming with all of the bones," said Julie Hardman of Tempe, Arizona. Hardman was there with her daughter, Megan. 

A security guard who asked not to be identified told me, "Some people go down and they are very afraid after seeing the bones. Some say they hear things. Voices."

Near the end of my Catacomb tour, I stopped again and reminded myself that these people all had names. Every one of them was a person. I could think of nothing I could do to acknowledge them at the time. There was no offering I could give to show them some kind of respect. I said a silent prayer and walked up the spiral staircase to the exit. As I sorted through my notes, recordings, and pictures, I came to realize that all I can give them is to tell their story. Those six million people sacrificed their eternal resting ground so the city of Paris could grow and thrive. Noblemen's bones are intertwined with peasants, families' skeletal remains may be crushed with their ancestors' bones, and I walked through all of it. Thirty generations speak to each passerby, forced into a single, collective voice. 

The Ghost of the White Witch

The spirit of Annie Palmer, the White Witch of Jamaica, still haunts Rose Hall, along with a host of other spirits... presumably those of her victims.

According to local legend, the White Witch still haunts the house, and would seize any intruders. Furthermore, according to the whispered stories, she could still be seen at night riding on Rose Hall and Ironshore estates, wearing a green velvet dress, seated on a large black horse, and flaying with her whip anyone who got in her way. Annie is also said to manifest most frequently as a series of hurried foots steps heard walking through the main hall to the back entrance of the Great House.

There are also stories of whispered voices in the dungeon, invisible footsteps on the stairs, and tapping on the walls. Some also claim to hear the cries of the babies she murdered, as well as old, old music as if from a long ago ball. The 18th century ghosts seem to have developed an affinity for electricity, delighting in turning lights on and off at random times.

The Great Hall fell into ruin over the course of 200 years, until it was purchased by a developer who built the Ritz-Carlton hotel on the grounds, and devoted considerable personal expense in renovating the old plantation house. Despite being abandoned all those years, the house was virtually untouched by vandals. Tales of disappearances connected to the old mansion, along with the strong belief in Voodoo and ghosts kept most would-be troublemakers away... just like in the days when Annie Palmer ruled the estate.


As usual, with renovations comes ghostly phenomena. Workmen reported tools being moved or hidden, only to reappear exactly where they were originally left... or more mysteriously, deposited in a place normally inaccessible. Some reported answering to someone calling their name, only to find that they were alone or out of earshot of anyone else. Newly refinished floors would become marred overnight, with what looked like old blood stains. Soon, most of the workforce were from off-island.


Eventually, the place was completed and furnished. Few of the items from the original house were recoverable, although there were several miraculous exceptions, including a few paintings and one old mirror. The mirror has come to play an important role in the Hauntings at Rose Hall. (See below)

The Rose Hall Great House is now a museum. Since it's opening, a large number of people who have photographed the rooms and features of the old place have reported strange phenomena and images. Many have written back to the museum and enclosed photos to prove what their cameras recorded. A disproportionately large number of these photos include the mirror shown above. The most common phenomena is the appearance of someone in the mirror... someone not in the room when the photo was taken.

There are an equally large number of bogus or easily debunked images that I can easily tell are reflections and other tricks of the light. But the mirror issue is hard to explain. The images are displayed there at the museum, right next to the the ones we can easily discount, yet the mirror stands out as being truly eerie.


There is one more image that is even more disturbing... a photo I personally took of the bedroom where Annie killed her first husband. Follow the link to My Visit to see the image of what I believe may be that of a malevolent spirit.

Fort Gaines

LOCATION:

Fort Gaines can be found in a strategic spot on Dauphin Island, part of the Dauphin Island Park, maintained by the Dauphin Island Park and Beach Board, funded by the Alabama Department of Conservation. Fort Gaines is just south of Mobile, and has a glorious view of Mobile Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. Parts of the Fort are open to the pubic via a paid tour.

Exit at I-10 at 193 South to Dauphin Island. Turn left at large water tower on island.

DESCRIPTION / HISTORY:

Because of the need for a southern coastal defense, brought to light by the war of 1812, Congress decided that the United States needed a fort or two along the southern coast, to be part of comprehensive system of national defense. One logical location was Dauphin Island, which had been in the past a sought after strategic site by various military forces; France, who first established a small colony there as well, Spain, and Great Britain, who had used it as a platform to attack the city of Mobile during 1812 War. With the best intentions, in 1821, the wheels were started to construct a fort which was supposed to be finished in 1858.

However, the government didn't hire the most experienced people to build this fort, who turned out to be not the brightest bulbs in the pack. Engineers on this project built the fort so close to Mobile Bay, that the water entered the structure at high tide. OOPS! The contractors needed another course in money management, as they over spent their budget, leaving a shambled mess of a fort, in need of more money to pay for more massive construction.

The Army doggedly tried to renew money allotments to build this fort, and finally in 1845, Congress gave another $20,000, but other problems popped up like a fight over land rights. Finally, the Army was given a clear deed to Dauphin Island site in 1853. The chief engineer assigned to this task was a skilled, bright, military-savvy man, Joseph G. Totten. Joseph took one look at the original plans, which by this time were outdated and not very good in the first place, and decided to begin a new.

Totten started over and designed a completely new fort, a city within itself, which featured the most up to date military architecture. The 22.5 ft. walls, which were 4.5 ft. thick at the top, were built of brick and sand construction, which gave them the ability to absorb any artillery fire. Totten hired brick craftsmen who really knew their craft, as today the rock solid gorge bastions are showcases of intricate masonry, all without keystones. The northwest bastion is preserved in its original condition.

To seriously hamper enemy ships from attacking the fort from western Mobile Bay at the fort's vulnerable land side, he built a dry moat, crossed by a drawbridge, which extends outward about 35 feet from the fort's wall base. Fort had plenty of firepower for the time installed. Each of the five walls sported 10 guns mounted at their top, while each bastion held four flank howitzers. There were cannon ports places in the side walls, and the entire roof of each bastion had catch basins for rain water, which was strained through a bed of shells and sand, winding up in large storage cisterns beneath the fort's floor and in the yard, providing a water supply in times of siege.

All of the bastions are connected to the main courtyard via large tunnels, making everything accessible to personnel. About 500 feet from the entrance, an assortment of buildings were built to provide services and shelter for troops stationed there.

In 1858, this well designed, well built fort, nearing completion, was named after a War of 1812 / Indian Wars military hero and skilled leader, General Edmund Pendleton Gaines, who had passed away in 1849. By 1861, most of the work on Fort Gaines was done. The rest of the finishing touches were finished by Confederate States of America.

Fort Gaines became an important military asset to the Confederacy during the Civil War. It was the center of operations for Confederate blockade-running efforts, which led to the important Battle of Mobile Bay in August 2-23, 1864. Union commanders Adm. David G. Farragut and Maj. Gen. Gordon Granger came with 14 wooden ships and 4 monitors, and in coordination with Union land army forces near Mobile took on the awesome task of shutting down these blockade-running efforts, which they did.

The guns on the fort walls along with the ship mines in Mobile Bay caused damage and death to the Union fleet. Adm. David G. Farragut gave the order to ignore the risks, now a famous quote: "Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!"

Once the ships got by the gun power of Fort Gaines, the Union fleet defeated the modest Confederate fleet, and Fort Gaines surrendered soon after, avoiding a bloody hand to hand encounter. Combined casualties only totaled 1,822 - a small number compared to other battles.

Despite being sold to the City of Mobile in 1926, becoming the property of Alabama, Fort Gaines has a long history of military service, and modifications were done to make it up to date.

In 1898, for the Spanish American War, 3 six inch disappearing naval guns and 3 rapid fire 3 inch naval guns were added to the eastern walls, eliminating the need for the corner bastions.

During World War 1, a coastal artillery unit garrison were on duty, manning the disappearing guns, becoming an anti-aircraft gunnery school, even after the War ended.

During World War 2, Fort Gaines was used as a camp site for both the Alabama National Guard and as a base of the U.S. Coast Guard who went after prowling enemy submarines, looking for merchant vessels in the Gulf of Mexico.

Even today, the Coast Guard still has a base here, and uses it when they take part in crash rescue boat incidents.

MANIFESTATIONS:

This historically active military fort saw a lot of action throughout the years, and was the military base where many were stationed. It goes to reason men died here during their tour of duty, either by accident or in battle. Or perhaps they died attacking the Fort itself. Either the entities which now observe the living don't know they are dead or continue serving because they weren't ready to move on to the other side, feeling perhaps they still had duties to perform. Ghosts have been described as what is left of people with dysfunctional personalities, fixated and not able to go forward.

For sure, we know that in the Battle of Mobile Bay, there was a total of 1,822 combined Union-Confederate deaths from the sea and land battles.

* Phantom foot steps have been heard all other the areas of the Historical Fort Gaines. Cold spots have probably been felt as well.

* Apparitions of soldiers described as spooky figures have been observed by the living; tourists and Park employees as well, all over the Fort.

* People who leave the Fort are sometimes followed by an apparition, checking up on them, which disappears after the living leave the front gates.

PSYCHIC RESEARCH:

1) Ghoststudies.com work as Paranormal Investigators who, as a side job, look for extremely haunted places for MTV's FEAR. Fort Gaines has been put on the list. Investigating for MTV, gives the team the advantage of going to areas not normally opened to the public, and spend time there. Check out the pictures taken, some of which show shadowy figures. http://www.paranormal.com/ghoststudies/Fort%20Gaines.htm

2) Sapi, which is a paranormal research group based in Mobile, Alabama, holds its annual Ghost Hunt at Fort Gaines. This year it will be on March 11, 2006 through March 12, 2006, 5 p.m. to 8:30 a.m., to give novice ghost hunters the thrill of hunting ghosts using real equipment, and be educated through lectures on basic ghost hunting techniques. http://sapiparanormal.com/sapi_006.htm

STILL HAUNTED?

Yes indeed!

Many entities call the Fort Gaines home, and go about their business at hand, keeping an eye on the living civilians and an eye out for the enemy which probably ended their lives.

Aiken-Rhett House

The Aiken-Rhett House is located at 48 Elizabeth Street in Charleston, South Carolina. 

The Aiken-Rhett House was built in 1817 for John Robinson, a local merchant. He lived in the house for approximately eight years. He was forced to sell the house in 1825 when he lost five ships at sea. In 1827 the house was purchased by William Aiken, Sr. He didn't live there, he instead used it as rental property. 

When William Aiken, Sr. died, his estate was divided between his wife and son. In 1833 his son, William Aiken, moved into the house with his wife, Harriet Lowndes. They did a lot of renovation work while they lived there, making it one of the most impressive homes in Charleston. 

After William Aiken and his wife passed away, the house was owned by their daughter, Henrietta, and her husband, Major A.B. Rhett. The house was left to their children. Two of their sons, I'On Rhett and Andrew Burnet Rhett, Jr., continued to live there. In 1949, I'On purchased the house from his siblings and lived there with his wife, Frances Hinson Dill. She donated the house to the Charleston Museum in 1975. The museum owned the house until 1995. It was then purchaed by the Historic Charleston Foundation, and is operated as a museum today. For more information about the house, please see the page on their website: Historic Charleston Foundation: Aiken-Rhett House. 

Many believe the house is also haunted. Many claim to see a ghostly woman roaming throughout the rooms, and some even hear footsteps. 

In May 2006 I received an e-mail from JR Davis about a possible ghost in one of my photos: 

I was looking at the photos of the Aiken-Rhett House in Charleston, South Carolina. In the tenth picture, if you look you can see a face in the staircase. It looks to be a slave woman, or child. Let me know what you think. It looks to me like this person is crying or moaning. Anyway, it's spooky just knowing that this place could be haunted.

JR circled the possible ghost in this photo: 

In June 2006 I received another e-mail from JR Davis about this photo: 

While looking at that picture I sent you, I noticed another very large face in it. I have circled it in red. Tell me what you think or what others think about this photo. I get an erie feeling about this place. Like something very bad happened there.

JR circled the second possible ghost in this photo:

In October 2006 I received an e-mail from John Ferguson, with an interesting photo from the Aiken-Rhett House: 

As a guest at my niece's wedding, we were very surprised to find what appears to be a man in a three-cornered hat outside on the balcony of the second floor. This was taken as guests were entering during the reception. Several people were looking into the room at the time, and none saw this image. I think one of us would have noticed the period-dress. 

Interestingly, upon following up the query with the mother-of-the-bride, she having been there for a longer period of time, also had not seen period-dressed personnel. We've never confirmed whether there are people on-site wearing period clothing or not. We just found this pic interesting.

Here is the photo he sent: 

Chambers Mansion

Chambers Mansion 

2220 Sacramento Street Between Laguna and Buchanan 

Pacific Heights originally Built 1887

This house many will state was built by and for Richard Craig Chambers, but many believe that this fact is not a whole truth. Chambers they say made his fortune in the silver mines of Utah before moving to San Francisco in 1887. But in what many researchers often tell he made every move with the help of spirits and ghosts of family members that had proceeded him in death.

Although many mistakenly have out right dishonestly stated that Chambers was a member of the Senate e and known as a"Utah State Senator," Utah did not become a state until 1897, ten years after the Chambers Mansion was built. He was actually in California when the Senate seat was occupied.

The chambers hauntings seem to many to be more of exaggerated facts twisted with truths. Chambers lived in the haunted house with two nieces. And from what many local peoples stories tell they held séances to call up their dead mother and father, siblings and strangers ghosts to question. It has also been mentioned that they the nieces dabbled in witchcraft, voodoo and spiritism and many unmentionable dark arts. Some believe Chambers was the root of the hauntings by unscrupulous deeds, but some old urban tales state that he brought his own ghost and demons with him when he arrived.

When Chambers died in 1901, the two nieces inherited the property and were immediately haunted by their uncles ghosts. this many believe was because as his cold corpse lied still in it's coffin before he could be buried they actually summoned his spirit to come forth which for ever bound him to the home. And others tell that because from the other side he saw what they were involved with and did not like it he continued to haunt the nieces night and day.

The urban legend says that one sister built a house just right next door and moved into it, although the neighboring Queen and Slack Houses were built prior to 1901. The other sister remained in the Chambers Mansion and met a grisly and mysterious end. She was found cut almost in half. Her relatives maintained that she had suffered a "farm implementation accident," but others suspected that she was murdered by an insane family member who had escaped from confinement in the attic. Though none of this is in public record the fact that she was cut in half is often the noted tragedy that ended her life. A local Ghost expert Jim Fassbinder, who conducts haunted home tours in San Francisco, "claims that an insane member of the Chambers family, who was kept in the attic, chased Claudia downstairs into the Josephine room and killed her." The mansion was eventually converted to the Mansion Hotel in 1977, where celebs such as Barbra Streisand, Robert DeNiro and Robin Williams stayed. Many guests have reported strange occurrences while staying there.

Winchester House

As one of two homes in California sanctioned by the U.S. Commerce Department as being haunted (the other is the Whaley House, below), the magnificent Winchester House stands alone as perhaps the most bizarre haunted home in the U.S. It was inspired and designed by Sarah Winchester (photo), widow of William Winchester, founder of Winchester rifles. Legend goes that Sarah was deeply affected by the deaths of her daughter, Annie, in 1866 and then her husband, William, in 1881. Sarah consulted a medium who instructed her to build a house to ward off evil spirits. Construction on the Winchester House started in 1884 and continued for 38 years — until Sarah’s death in 1922.

Sarah reportedly held nightly seances to gain guidance from spirits and her dead husband for the home’s design. What resulted was a maze-like residence full of twisting and turning hallways, dead-ends, secret panels, a window built into a floor, staircases leading to nowhere, doors that open to walls, upside-down columns, and rooms built, then intentionally closed off  — all to ward off and confuse evil spirits.

Halloween Haunted

Happy Halloween, MNN readers!

When you think of famous cinematic haunted houses, which ones do you think of? For me, three immediately come to mind: the charmingly restored (and then hideously altered) Victorian farmhouse of "Beetlejuice," the bad mojo-infested Long Island Dutch Colonial of "The Amityville Horror," and, last but not least, the Southern California suburban tract house of "Poltergeist." To celebrate today's spooky proceedings, I thought it would be fun to take a quick detour away from eco-friendly home and garden-land take a closer look at these iconic, ghost-friendly properties and the stories behind them (and yes, two of them actually exist). Enjoy ... and try not to have nightmares about mysterious hidden "red" rooms in your basement or a ghostly Alec Baldwin living in your attic.

The Maitland-Deetz residence, "Beetlejuice"

Although Tim Burton's otherworldly comedy "Beetlejuice" served as an exercise in scenery chewing for Michael Keaton playing the titular role of a perverted "bio-exorcist" named Betelgeuse, one of the more memorable stars of the 1988 film is the New England farmhouse lovingly renovated by recently deceased couple Adam and Barbara Maitland and subsequently invaded by obnoxious New York yuppies Charles and Delia Deetz along with Charles' morose daughter, Lydia. And then there's Otho, Delia's interior designer/paranormal expert friend who rolls his eyes and mutters, "Ugh. Deliver me from L.L. Bean," when first assessing the home.

Once the Deetz family moves into the former chez Maitland, remodeling hell breaks loose — at its core, "Beetlejuice" is a home improvement/interior design horror story — as Otho and Delia attempt go about transforming the once-homey space ("a little gasoline … blowtorch … no problem") into a minimalist yuppie nightmare while the ghosts of  Adam and Barbara, trapped in their beloved home for eternity, helplessly watch on (check out the home's exterior transformation here). This, of course, is where Betelgeuse comes in.

Given the central role the Maitland/Deetz residence plays in the film it's natural that many "Beetlejuice" fans would go looking for it. Long story, short it doesn't exist. Although set in the Connecticut countryside, "Beetlejuice" was filmed in and around East Cornith, VT., where a façade of the home was constructed (interiors were filmed on a Hollywood soundstage) and then dismantled post-filming. Still, just like hobbyist Adam Maitland, it looks like some folks have gone about replicating the home … in miniature. Did somebody say Manchurian tong oil?

The Freeling Residence, "Poltergeist"

Sure, the newly built Southern California home depicted in "Poltergeist" is plagued by murderous trees, freak earthquakes, malevolent toy clowns, rotting corpses, and a giant spider monster from hell but the real villain in the 1982 Steven Spielberg-produced terror-fest is rampant overdevelopment and suburban sprawl. You see what happens when you build cookie-cutter tract housing over a cemetery and don't tell anyone?

The home inhabited by the very unfortunate Freeling family does indeed exist — it's a private residence located on Roxbury Street in Simi Valley, Calif. From a quick look at Google Maps, the exterior of one of cinema's most supernaturally active homes looks pretty much the same almost 30 years after its film debut although the website Seeing-Stars notes that "the 1994 Northridge earthquake, time, and vandalism have taken a toll on this once beautiful home." Feel free to take a drive-by look here or here.

Establishing shots of Cuesta Verde, the fictional neighborhood where "Poltergeist" takes place, weren't actually filmed in Simi Valley but about 20 miles west in the Los Angeles county community of Agoura Hills. I don't know about you but if I lived in the Freeling house, Carol Anne Freeling's most famous line would no doubt run through my head each and every time someone rang the doorbell.

The Lutz Residence, "The Amityville Horror"

Given that it's so incredibly spooky (blame it on those demonic dormer windows) you'd think that the 1977 buyer's remorse classic, "The Amityville Horror," was actually filmed in the sleepy Long Island, N.Y. community of Amityville at 112 Ocean Avenue where, in 1974, Ronald DeFeo went berserk and murdered his entire family. (George and Kathy Lutz purchased the Dutch Colonial fixer-upper 13 months later only to experience some truly nasty unexplained phenomena that provided the groundwork for the novel "The Amityville Horror: A True Story," the aforementioned film adaptation, countless sequels, and a so-so remake in 2005).

Well, it's not. Although movie's producers attempted to film in the home where the actual murders/subsequent supernatural activity took place, they were denied permission to do so and ended up converting a residence in Tom's River, N.J. to look like the "Amityville Horror" house. The exterior of the real house was used in promotional materials for the movie, an action that, not surprisingly, prompted the home's then-owners, James and Barbara Cromarty, to sue the filmmakers.

Regardless of the N.J. stand-in home, 112 Ocean Avenue is still very much around. James and Barbara Cromarty changed the street number and altered the appearance of the front of the house to ward off looky-loos after purchasing the supposedly possessed property in 1977 (they lived it until 1987 while the Lutz family only lasted 28 days). "Still," according to the Amityville Record, "sometimes a car will pull up in the middle of the night. A passenger will get out and cut away a piece of grass from the home. Sometimes another car will pass in the middle of a hot, summer afternoon, stop and the occupants will stare. Sometimes a deranged individual may even try to break into the home. But mostly, it is just another house in Amityville with nothing more than a horrific history."

The Amityville Horror house, now 108 Ocean Avenue, hit the market for $1.15 million in 2010. Red-eyed demonic pigs named Jodie were not included in the sale.