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Recently, I drove along the Delaware River, through New Hope, Pennsylvania. It reminded me of a time early in my writing career when I explored local lore – and also stayed vigilant for the hitchhiker ghost.
A young blond man with blue eyes that stared unblinkingly at you (visible even at night), he supposedly showed up on numerous dark country roads in that area. If you didn’t pick him up, you’d see him again somewhere along the road. If you did pick him up….well… we have no survivors’ tales.
New Hope seemed to be a particularly haunted place, and I went on two ghost tours offered in that small but touristy town. Since it’s nearly Halloween, it seems like an appropriate time to dish up one of the ghost stories, which I included in Ghost: Investigating the Other Side.
The Logan Inn, right in the heart of town, has a long history of reported hauntings, particularly room 6. Several years ago, the South Jersey Ghost Research Society investigated and stated that room 18, just above room 6, is also haunted. Nearby, in room 15, a double-locked door supposedly opened by itself.
Built in 1722 and furnished with impressive colonial pieces, the Logan is the oldest building in town and has gone through quite a few owners. In 1828, it became the Logan House, reportedly to honor an Indian chief.
Originally a tavern in pre-Revolutionary War days, George Washington’s men frequented the place. Part of the basement served as a morgue for bodies from deceased town residents (and soldiers) that had to wait for burial until the ground was soft, and I heard one story of a man who’d been found down there under some bodies but still alive.
When I visited, at the top of a very long set of stairs I saw the life-size portrait of the grandparents of a previous owner, Carl Lutz. (It has since been moved.) Many people have commented on the scent of lavender perfume – the grandmother’s favorite fragrance – that seems to emanate from it. I was told that people who’ve taken photos of this portrait often find the filmy image of a figure superimposed on it.
Also interesting is the witch’s ball, a peach-colored glass sphere once used to ward off evil spirits, which sat in a glass case behind the bar. It was found one day in the cellar and placed carefully inside the case. At some point it vanished for several months. Then it reappeared exactly where it was originally found. It was put under glass once again, and once again, it escaped its case.
Sightings of several apparitions have been reported at the Inn, such as a fully dressed colonial figure in the dining room. Other figures have appeared in Room 6, where things also turn up missing or rearranged. Some say it’s the spirit of a playful little girl, ‘Emily,’ who once drowned in the canal. A figure that resembles her has also been spotted outside by the tree in the parking lot.
Staff members have heard their names called out when no one was around, and one person who heard a disembodied voice was shoved up against a freezer. Some guests complained to the owners one morning about a loud party that had gone on in the bar until 3:00 AM, although it was soon revealed that the last guest had departed the bar at 11:00 PM.
Most interesting to me was the story of a guest who’d checked out of room 6 at 4:00 AM, claiming that someone had been choking him. He said he’d never been so scared in his life. When he’d felt the hand on his throat, he’d woken his fiancée, and she also had felt the intense threatening energy. They left at once. The staff was doubtful, since they believe that ‘Emily’ is just a trickster. (So, would this mean there’s another ghost that chokes people in that room?)
Not far from the Logan, all up and down Ferry and Mechanic Streets are haunted properties, or haunted objects inside some properties. Even the spirit of a famous primitive artist, Joseph Pickett, has reportedly been seen in the area. He used to live and work in New Hope, but died in 1918.
Not far away along Route 32 is the Devil’s Half Acre, the haunted Black Bass Hotel, and Smithtown’s Weeping Woman. And, then, there’s the aforementioned phantom hitchhiker. I was on one tour when a woman in the group spoke up and said the ghost was her brother, who’d been hit by a truck while hitchhiking.
Who knows?
As evidenced from the packed crowds on ghost tours in many local towns this weekend, it’s clear that people love a good ghost story.
