Haunted by the Past

Unsolved


I lived in the house that Westerville’s only unsolved murder occurred in. In 2001, a woman was discovered in the bathtub of her home by her two children who had just returned home from school, according to The Ohio Attorney General’s website. The water was left on, flooding the residence, and she died from a puncture wound to the back of her head. But no murder weapon—or murderer—was ever found.

We actually didn’t know the house was the site of a murder when we moved in—“we” being my sibling and I. I believe our parents knew because the house was bought cheap. 

Before we even moved in, I saw the master bathroom and announced it was a “murder bathroom.” The air was thick and heavy and there was this feeling of sadness and anger that made it hard to breathe. This thickness worsened as time went on.

Things started off very small. Cupboards would open, light switches would audibly flick on and off, doors to rooms or even sliding closet doors would open or close in front of our eyes. Friends would report seeing figures appear, and shortly after, the breaker would trip in that area, or voices were heard calling out.

Eventually the energy—spirit—started growing hostile. It would rattle my doors and vents and I would hear screaming coming from the vents at all hours of the night. My younger brother refused to sleep in his room because a figure would hover and come in and out of his room all night. Hair would be pulled, and scratches during sleep appeared. Eventually one of my friends claims her hair was pulled so severely, she fell backwards down the stairs. This prompted her and I to do research, where we found the Ohio Attorney General’s article about the unsolved murder that happened here.

At this point in time, my brother, myself and the friend who was pulled down the stairs decided to keep an activity log—and to not share what we found with our other friends. From then on, my brother and I kept separate logs of activities we saw or friends reported. They often lined up at the same time of day.

Eventually, when the energy grew too hostile with the above mentioned behavior, many of our friends opted to stop coming over. All of them were honest and told us it’s because of the spirit. Many of them had stories of watching a dark figure float around the room, screaming and crying, before feeling scratches or burns or watching the spirit go up to the light before that breaker tripped.

I think the most memorable happenings were watching, in broad daylight, my sliding closet door fully open then shut close, followed by 10 seconds of angry rattling/banging on the doors. There was also a point in time where there was a huge commotion heard in the kitchen. When my brother and I got up the nerve to investigate, we found both kitchen bar chairs flipped upside down and all the cabinets/cupboards had been opened.

I moved out shortly after all of this, and the rest of my family followed soon after. 

-Westerville

The Cycling Spirit

My boyfriend out of college lived in a very old brick building on S. Fifth that used to be a candy factory. A previous tenant had killed himself in the apartment and was rumored to occasionally return. One of his roommates at the time stored their bike by hanging it on the wall. I never saw this myself, but the ghost would take a spin on it, causing the pedals to move.

I was there by myself one night, and for some reason I could not make myself go near the bedroom closet in the room I was staying in. Late that night, I heard a door open. Then footsteps in the hallway outside the bedroom, walking up and down the hallway for 10-15 minutes. Since everyone was out of town, I knew it wasn’t a real person. It had to be the ghost, who we called Dudley. I finally got irritated and yelled at him to either come in or leave. He left. I later found out he had died in that closet that I was so scared of.

-German Village

The Couch

In my apartment, someone died on the couch. One time, when I got rid of the couch, the ghost tried to touch me. I know it was him—he had long hair and wore a robe. I woke up freezing and saw him walk out through the wall to go outside. I saw him twice, but once he went through the wall when I got rid of the couch, he never came back to visit.

-Whitehall

Bedroom Door

Years ago, I lived in a new house in Jefferson Township. My husband worked out of town during the week and came home on the weekends. Being young and not comfortable being alone, I would lock my bedroom door at night. One morning, I was getting ready for work and standing in my closet when I heard the jiggle of the bedroom door handle. The door was still locked from the night, and I stood frozen in my closet for what seemed like an eternity, scared and waiting to hear something else, but there were no other noises. I got up my courage and went looking around the house, and no one was there. No open doors or any sign that someone had been inside. I brushed it off and went to work. 

That night, my husband came back home, and I told him what happened. He told me to go into the closet, and he would jiggle the handle to recreate the sound (as I couldn’t stop it from playing in my brain all day). He went into the hall and shut the door. I heard the jiggle of the handle, but it didn’t sound the same as that morning. I loudly said, “No, that’s not what I heard.” Still in the closet, he jiggles the handle again. Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle. “THAT WAS THE SOUND!” I yelled to him and came out of the closet and asked him what he did that time. He tells me, “I jiggled it from the inside of the bedroom.”

-Blacklick

Table for None


I worked at Lindeys and there have been numerous ghost encounters. The water faucet in the upstairs kitchen would randomly turn on FULL BLAST when no one was in the kitchen. Things would go flying off the shelves when no one was there. You would hear stomping on the floor when no one was in the private dining rooms! It was creepy!

-German Village

The Short Man

Last year, my boyfriend and I were sleeping in my bed. I had to go to the restroom in the middle of the night, so I got up in the pitch black room and walked into the adjoining bathroom. Right when I walked in, I saw a figure of a dark haired man, much shorter than me (I’m 5’8”) in the corner of the bathroom. He was standing with his arms crossed with his head looking down, and I could sense deep sorrow. I knew that this was a figure, and not an intruder immediately. Somehow, I also knew this was my boyfriend‘s mother‘s ex-husband, who had passed away when they were very young in a car accident. I’ve never seen him before, and have only been told about him one time in a story, so I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I just immediately knew it was him. He was so sad and the feeling was so heavy for some reason. The first thought that crossed my mind was, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe Sue was married to someone so short!” (My boyfriend’s father is about 6’3” and her current husband is about 6’4”). Her typical type is so much taller. Oddly enough, I still went to the bathroom and then ran back into bed. I tried to wake up my boyfriend, but he was dead asleep. I wasn’t super scared, which was odd to me.

The next morning when he woke up, I told him what I had seen, and I told him not to think I was crazy. I described exactly what he looked like, and I asked my boyfriend if his mom‘s first husband was really short. He confirmed that to be true. When we visited his mom in Buffalo, we asked her to show us a picture of him. It was indeed the person that was inside of my bathroom. We made the decision to tell her what happened, not knowing how she would take it as it was a very traumatic part of her life. She smiled when I told her that I saw him, and she was happy. I didn’t tell her the sadness and despair that I could feel from him…I just told her that he was okay. To this day, I think about it all the time. Not sure why he came to my home, or why I knew it was him, or how I could feel his feelings.

-Dublin

Death Do Us Part

When my husband and I were searching for wedding venues in the summer of 2019, we were really looking forward to touring The Kelton House as one of the possible venues. We arranged a tour with my in-laws and showed up slightly early for our tour, in the late afternoon. 

A guide showed us into the drawing room to wait for the event manager, and we were looking around and gushing over the decor when I looked at one of the old photographs in the room. All of a sudden, all I heard was a man screaming in my head, saying, “Get out. Get out! Get. OUT.” It felt like the man in the photograph was furious that I dared to even show up. I don’t remember what happened next, but when I came to, I was laying on the front lawn of the house with my husband and mother-in-law next to me. They said my lips turned blue and I went white as a sheet and just started walking, like I was possessed, finding my way out of the house before fainting on the lawn. 

My father-in-law heard my story and went back inside to the very confused guide and asked if they had any ghosts in the house. The guide demurred and said, “Oh no, not really,” to which he replied, “Yes, you do,” and walked away. 

Understandably, we didn’t end up getting married there, or ever going back. To this day, I’ve never experienced anything like it. I’ve seen shadow people and heard voices and laughter, but nothing like that horrible noise of the man in Kelton House screaming.

-Discovery District

Imaginary Friend

I live in a house in the Shepard neighborhood that was built in1896. Our elderly neighbors have stories about a previous owner named Virginia who lived in the house for approximately 50 years, raised her family here, was taken out by ambulance in her 80s or 90s, and insisted that she wanted to die at home. She was allegedly brought back from the hospital the same day and shortly after, passed in what is now our bedroom. 

When our daughter was 18 months old, she slept in our room. She would have entire conversations after we would put her to bed, complete with pauses (as if someone was responding to her) and giggling out of nowhere. She would tell us she was talking to “Gaga,” who appeared in her bed and had red eyes. We would also sometimes hear her start to cry and then settle as though she was being comforted by somebody. 

We would’ve written this off as an imaginary friend if it weren’t for everything else. The lights flicker, the TV randomly plays music, and there are cold spots. I would just chalk this up to our house being just old if these things didn’t immediately stop whenever I ask “Virginia” to quit because she’s scaring me.

Once, I was in an upstairs bedroom putting away laundry. My dogs were crated downstairs and my young son was with me.

At 1 p.m. I heard my husband walking up our back staircase. It was very clear. I called out, “Hey you’re home early!” and he didn’t answer. I checked his location on my phone and he was still at work. I opened the bedroom door and both of my cats were right outside the door. Then I heard it again. Someone walked up and down my back staircase for over half an hour, heavy footsteps stomping, while I could see my child and the cats. And the dogs, who will literally bark at the sound of someone sneezing, were completely silent downstairs. 

When I finally got the courage to go look, it stopped, only to immediately resume when I walked out of sight.

-Shephard, East Side

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The Basement

On the day of a house showing for our potential new home, the realtor opened the door, and the house was empty, except for some furniture. The master bedroom was on the first floor. It had Berber carpet that was snagged and old. My husband and the realtor went back down the hall to the great room while I was getting a closer look at the carpet. I then noticed a woman I thought was the realtor walk past the doorway and through the door to the basement. I stood up to follow her down the basement stairs. She had short black hair, a tan coat, and large gold earrings. Just as I was starting to go down to the basement with her, I heard my husband and the realtor laughing upstairs. I did not proceed down the stairs, and when I looked down them, the lady had turned the corner.

The realtor and my husband came down the stairs saying the basement was next.  The realtor went down the stairs first, and I followed her looking at her closely. Her hair was different, the coat was not the same, and no earrings. The basement was completely empty.   All the lights were on and no one else was in the house.

As we were leaving, I saw the same lady looking out the window at us. The realtor told my husband the owner had passed away. I knew that this must have been the lady that had died in that home, and her ghost seemed to just be letting me know she was there.

-Worthington

Campus Haunts

I was an OSU student and lived in the same off-campus house for two years. One night, my three roommates and I were in our living room playing a video game and one of my roommates yelled, “OH MY GOD, I JUST SAW A GHOST.” 

She explained how she saw a tall man with brown hair, aged 30-40, walk from the doorway of our living room into our kitchen. My roommate’s boyfriend also said he saw the same man. He claims the man stood at the far end of the hall by the last bedroom and watched him one night while he was up with his girlfriend, who was sick from drinking too much.

Other spooky things happened on a daily basis. It wasn’t unusual to wake up in the morning to the Keurig on. We never used this Keurig, so no one would have possibly turned it on. We once watched it turn on by itself while talking about our ghost. We would see the trash can lid swing on its own, and I would constantly hear footsteps in the kitchen while I was home alone.

One night, I came home and was getting ready for bed. It was about 2 A.M. I was in the bathroom while my friend was getting ready for bed in my bedroom. We both heard what we could only describe as someone falling or being dragged down the attic stairs and hitting the door at the bottom. It scared me so bad that I ran back to my room and refused to let my friend leave to brush her teeth. We stayed up all night terrified we’d hear something else.

-University District

A Strange Goodbye

I lived in an 1800s home. My son was probably two years old, still in a crib, but talking. One time, he was in his room, running around and smiling, laughing and pointing. I asked what he was doing, and he simply said, “Playing peek-a-boo with the guy who sits on my ceiling.” 

One day, we had a carpet cleaner come. The technician said, “Do you know you have a ghost in your house? I went up to the third floor and something—someone—brushed against me.” The man got scared and came right back downstairs. The ghost seemed to be protecting us. We never had a problem with him, and we accepted him as part of our family.

We were moving, and we were sad to leave the ghost behind, so we invited him to our new house with us, right around the corner. The last night we were in the house before we were moving, I woke up, and there was a man standing over me. I freaked out, ran and turned on the light, told him to go away, and there was no one there. I realized it was our ghost, and that he was probably trying to say goodbye to us. I still want to cry because he never followed us. 

-German Village

Paranormal Pictures

My house was built in 1920. I’ve lived here about a year, and I love history, so I delved into the background of my Franklinton build.

I looked it up in the Columbus Metropolitan Archives and learned of a fire 45 years ago that killed four out of five children in the home. The eldest and her dad escaped, and their mom was working the night shift at the time of the fire. 

The newspaper archive shows the eldest daughter standing in front of my living room window staring hollowly at the photographer, with a short caption of the event. I was so upset to learn of this because I have a healthy respect for what I consider the existence of multiple planes. I honor the rafters in my unfinished portion of the basement that have “Little Angel Girls Club, No Boys Allowed,” written into it, knowing that the deceased children probably wrote that when they lived here.

I think my house tries to warn me of things. One time, I was driving to my parents about half an hour away and saw a hot air balloon. I stopped to take a picture.

When I opened my photo gallery later, there was the balloon…and then there was a picture of what looked like an electrical circuit breaker box that had “FIRE” written boldly on it.

I was driving the entire time during the file’s upload time, per the data associated with the photo. It’s source wasn’t any random app, just my camera….formatted the same as any other file.

I think someone, or something in the house is trying to tell me to get the home checked since it caught on fire before, but I can’t afford an electrician. I found charred brick in my basement and kept it on an old candelabra, almost as a way to honor the children. When my boyfriend moved it without my knowledge, weird things started happening. Footsteps, knocking on the walls…I’m not superstitious or religious, but I have spoken aloud to the children. I tell them they are loved, even if someone couldn’t get to them. 

I tell them to play with my cats, and one of my cats even goes bonkers, chattering and rolling around in the unfinished area of my basement.

Being that it’s the souls of children something in me has felt protective And mournful regarding the entire situation.

-Franklinton

The Man in Overalls

I was staying in an old house on Hoover reservoir and woke up feeling someone looking at me. There was a man standing there wearing railroad overalls and work boots, I just said:

“Hi! We are taking care of your house!” 

And he disappeared.

Later, talking to a neighbor, the man I described was the man who lived and died in that house.

-Westerville

Elenor

Back in 2011, I moved in with my then boyfriend (now husband). He lived in a little brick cottage on the corner of Jackson and Lazelle and was living alone at the time. We had this little courtyard patio in the back and there was a stone wall with a Gravestone in it (not unusual for German Village). The only thing I could make out on it was the first letter of the first name (it started with an E) and the number 22 or 27. 

Within a few weeks of moving in, I had gotten out of the shower and my closet door was shut. This closet door was never shut because it had shoes and purses and too many heavy things on it to just blow shut and to actually shut it you had to pull it shut pretty hard. My boyfriend was out of town so I was a little freaked out but didn’t think too much about it. 

A few weeks later, he was traveling again and I decided I could build an Ikea dresser for our bedroom by myself. I didn’t get too far before giving up, and I went to bed. In the middle of the night, the tall boxes that were leaning against the wall started falling one by one really slowly. My dog was sleeping in my bed and jumped up at the end of the bed and all the hair on her back was standing straight up while she growled and barked her head off for a good five minutes. I was totally freaked and decided then that it was more than just the wind—that it had to be that ghost in the backyard messing with me. 

From then on I referred to the ghost as Elenor (all I could see was the E on the grave), and decided she was 27 and totally in love with my boyfriend and was mad that I moved in with him, since she only messed with me.

A little while later, we had some friends over and I was telling them about Elenor. My boyfriend went to the bathroom while I was talking (never believing me and thinking I was crazy), and my friend, who loves ghosts, was telling me I need to just talk to her and tell her we can live together in peace, and that I am not a threat. So I said out loud, “Elenor, I am not a threat. We can live here in peace together,” and that exact moment this decorative branch thing (hello 2011) that I had literally jumped off the wall. Of course, my boyfriend missed it.

The final thing Elenor did was the best. I was home alone watching TV before bed. I had all the lights on and all of a sudden the downstairs lights in our house all dimmed really slowly and then snapped off. I tried turning them back on and they wouldn’t turn on, but the upstairs lights were still on so it was not a power thing. I was so freaked out I just went to bed. I told my boyfriend about it as I always did and he just brushed me off. 

A few weeks later, we were moving out of our house, and all of the boxes were packed up. We had gone to a concert and were sitting in our kitchen late at night talking about our memories there. I started talking about Elenor and said, “I just can’t believe she hasn’t messed with you after all this time, and she only messed with me,” and he responded with, “She loves me, she would never mess with me.” At that exact moment, the lights in our kitchen/downstairs dimmed slowly and turned off. My boyfriend was SO freaked out and was flicking all the switches. I just yelled, “Thank you Elenor!”

-German Village

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