"Death is no more than passing from one room into another." – HELEN KELLER

Mathias Ham House

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The Mathias Ham House was built in 1837 by Mathias Ham in Dubuque, Iowa. The house was a small two-story, five room structure for his wife and five children. More rooms were added on after the death of Ham's wife, going from five rooms to twenty-three.

Mathias made his fortune in the mining, lumber, agriculture and shipping vessel. He would sit in the very top room of his house, keeping an eye on his ships. One day he spotted pirates on the river and alerted the authorities. As they were being arrested, the pirates vowed vengeance on him. However, when the day came, it wasn't Mathias they found.

It was the end of the eighteen-hundreds. Every member of the Ham family had passed on except for one, Sarah Ham. She was one of Mathias' daughters and the only one living in the house at the time. While she was reading in bed one night, she head someone moving around on the floor below her. She slowly made her way downstairs to investigate and found no one.

The next night she was better prepared in case the intruder returned. Previously that day, she alerted her neighbors of what happened. Informed them that if the intruder returned she would put a lantern in the window as a signal for help. But
that wouldn't be the only preventative measure she would take.

That night, Sarah heard the same movement below her. She called out to the person but received no answer. Locking herself in her bedroom, Sarah placed the lantern in the window and picked up her shotgun. She waited as heavy footsteps made their way to her. They stopped before her bedroom door. Sarah fired two shots.

Her neighbors arrived shortly after only to find a bloody trail leading down to the river. They found the pirate captain who had threatened Mathias dead on the river bank.

Today the house is a museum and considered to be haunted. Paranormal reports include unexplainable lights, noises, cold chills, old broken pump organ plays on its own. Footsteps and voices are also heard. It is believed Mathias Ham and possibly the pirate captain are the ones responsible for the haunting.

Ghost Hunters is Back And Has a New Friend

Ghost Hunters is back with a whole new season. Their first investigation will be at the Sowden House where Elizabeth Short, aka “The Black Dahlia,” was allegedly murdered in 1947. Dr. George Hodel owned the house at the time and was a suspect in her murder. His son Steve believes his father murdered Elizabeth in the house, providing evidence to back up his theories. However, it has not been proven Hodel was the one who murdered her. The house was designed by Lloyd Wright for his friend John Sowden in 1927. 

Next, TAPS heads to Madame Tussauds Hollywood Wax Museum. As if being alone in the dark with hundreds of life-sized wax figures wasn’t creepy enough, the team learns that museum staffers have experienced unexplained phenomena – shadows, footsteps, the eerie feeling of being watched – which may have ties back to actor Victor Kilian’s nearby 1979 murder. Tune in Wednesday at 9/8c to see what they uncover.

In the remote woods of Oregon lies one of the richest gold mines in the U.S.—but for the last 100 years, it has remained abandoned... Until now. Soon to be re-opened by a scraggly group of miners, these hardy souls will battle the elements to find their fortune. But with a rich history of paranormal activity surrounding the mine, these miners may just find something else.

Reader Submission - Are You Scared?

The below story comes to you from Jules: 

After what I have learned to call The Lennox Haunting, a haunted house that I lived in terror in for thirty eight days total, we vacated the property and moved to a different home on the outskirts of Lennox.

I thought the hell was over, but I was dead wrong. Sometimes hell does not leave, it just lays dormant, waiting and watching for that exact slice in time when you’re vulnerable. That’s the moment it comes again and lets you know that you are human, and it is not. Here is part of my story. I had walked upstairs to retrieve something from my bedroom, when I heard a commotion in the bathroom. It was impossible, I was home alone. I had left the bathroom door open with the light out, but the door was now closed and I could see light filtering out from beneath it. I slowly approached it.

I laid my hand on the door knob, not being sure if I had the guts to actually open it. My heart was beating so hard by then I could hear it echoing in my ears. I paused there a moment. I slowly took my hand back off of the door knob and crept back to the hall closet.

My ex husband had left his old set of golf clubs there for our son, Dominick to use. I opened the closet door slowly and as quietly as I could. I reached in and quietly pulled out the first one I felt. I was still watching the bathroom door, never taking my eyes off of it fearing it would suddenly open and some stranger would come charging at me.

I retrieved the club and quietly closed the door. I felt so much better from the feel of the cold metal of in my hand. I headed back down the hall to the bathroom door. I stood beside of it listening for any movement. I could not hear anything in there, not so much as a breath. I was actually starting to get angry. I felt I had been through enough of this shit. I took a deep breath and turned the handle, pushing hard, almost throwing the door with enough force that I knew the handle would dent the wall. The door banged loudly as it did precisely that, leaving a round imprint. The pressure was so great from the door that the shower curtain blew away from the tub; its movement startled me.

“Who’s in here?” I asked in a very unfriendly tone, raising the golf club into the air, ready to strike if I had to. My voice echoed loudly throughout the bathroom. I heard a bit of a sound, like wind escaping or maybe it seemed more like a long deep breath. I held mine. I wanted to hear everything. I was getting tired of the fear, of the seemingly endless games. I just knew in my heart that something was there, and whatever it was, it was definitely messing with me.

I saw the shower curtain flutter again, as though there was a breeze passing through it, even though there were no windows in the bathroom. I stood my ground even though my heart was thumping so hard I could feel it moving my chest with each beat. I walked over to shower curtain. It was almost completely drawn closed. I slowly reached for it, grabbed the edge of it, and then quickly, I pulled it completely open. The tub was empty. I let out a long sigh of relief, and then took a couple more long deep breaths, exhaling very slowly. It helped to slow my heartbeat down to a more comfortable level.

I stepped in front of the vanity to look into the mirror. My eyes looked like those of a crazed maniac holding a golf club in the air. I stared at myself just shaking my head at myself. “What is your deal today Jolene?” I said sternly to my reflection as if it could actually answer me. Then I heard a raspy, very loud whisper directly into left my ear as though someone was standing very close, right next to me.

“ARE YOU SCARED?” The voice came from seemingly nowhere. I could see from my reflection in the mirror there was no one standing beside me. It startled me so much my knees buckled, had I not grabbed the edge of the vanity to steady myself, I would certainly have fallen to the floor.

The voice I heard had such a mean tone that it had chilled me to the bone. I felt a cold rush of air on the side of my head as though someone was breathing icy breaths on my cheek. I could even feel the pause between breaths. The suddenness of it had startled me so much I had dropped my golf club. I quickly bent down to retrieve my precious weapon even though I could not see anyone to use it on, it still felt very good in my hand.

I straightened back up and saw myself in the mirror. I knew my reflection was telling me that I was standing there by myself but I still couldn’t help glancing directly beside me and all around the room. I was alone in the room. I laid my hand to my cheek where I had felt the breaths. My cheek was very cold to the touch. I glanced back at my reflection one more time and for a moment, just for a thousandth of a second I thought I saw another face looking back at me. It was not a face of a normal person. It was distorted, as if I were looking into one of those weird mirrors in the fun house at a carnival, and then it was gone again.

It was so quick, I could not be absolutely sure if it had actually been there at all. I continued staring into the mirror; I was in too much shock to move right at that moment. It finally dawned on me to move my feet and get myself away from the mirror. I really did not want to see anymore if I could prevent it. I was shook up enough. I ran out of the bathroom pulling the door shut behind me. I headed for the stairs. I didn’t know where I was running to at that moment; all I remember was that I needed to get some distance between myself and that bathroom.

If you would like to read more, check out the “look inside” of Beyond The Lennox Haunting, the haunting of me, vol 2 on Amazon. This is based on a true story that began in a home I had lived in a few years beforehand in the town of Lennox.

Battery Park Hotel

Battery Park Hotel - 1880s
The original Battery Park Hotel was built in 1886 by Colonel Frank Coxe in Ashville, NC. Named after Confederate soldiers using it as a site for batteries of artillery, it was the first hotel in the South with an electric elevator and lighting. Many visited for the clean Mountain air to combat illnesses like Tuberculosis and enjoyed its beautiful views. Famous families visited the hotel including Rockefeller and Lorillard. George Vanderbilt also stayed at Battery Park, viewing the land where he would soon build Biltmore Estate. The old building was torn down and a new was built in its place in 1924 thanks to Edwin W. Grove It remained in operation until 1972. In the 1980s, it was converted in to apartments for senior citizens and today, businesses operate on the first floor.

Battery Park Hotel is believed to be haunted by Helen Clevenger. She was in Ashville visiting her uncle W. L. Clevenger. On July 17, 1936, she was found brutally murdered in room 224. She was shot and savagely beaten with her face slashed. Police arrested hotel hallboy Martin Moore after interviewing numerous witnesses and possible suspects. Moore claimed he was beaten in to confessing . He died in the gas chamber in December 1936. 

On stormy nights, Helen is seen wandering the halls of the old hotel. The hotel has also been the scene of a number of suicides who would jump off the roof. On September 4, 1943 a U.S. Government Official, Clifton Alheit allegedly committed suicide in this manner. People have reported seeing "bodies" falling from the roof and a tragic suicide replaying itself over and over. A male spirit was also seen by staff members. His identity is unknown but it is believed he may have been murdered in the hotel at some point. Since the building was converted to apartments, he is no longer seen.



Asheville, NC National Park Service

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