Showing posts with label Alabama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alabama. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 20, 2026

The Haunted Tutwiler Hotel: Birmingham's Grand Old Lady and Her Restless Spirits

Photo: Wikipedia


In the heart of downtown Birmingham, Alabama, stands an elegant old hotel with a reputation that extends far beyond its beautiful architecture and Southern hospitality. Behind its stately brick exterior, marble floors, and historic corridors, the Tutwiler Hotel has become associated with unexplained footsteps, mysterious knocking, disembodied voices, and a particularly demanding gentleman who reportedly refuses to let the staff forget his presence.

For generations, the Tutwiler name has represented one of Birmingham's grandest hospitality traditions. It has welcomed businessmen, politicians, travelers, and distinguished guests through decades of change in a city built upon iron, coal, steel, and extraordinary ambition.

But there is something unusual about the Tutwiler's haunted reputation.

The hotel that guests visit today is not the same building that originally bore the name. The first Tutwiler Hotel disappeared more than fifty years ago, while the present establishment occupies another historic building with a fascinating past of its own.

And according to local legend, changing buildings did little to discourage the ghosts.

To understand the story, we must return to the early twentieth century, when Birmingham was rapidly becoming one of the South's most important industrial centers.

Founded in 1871, Birmingham grew around the abundant deposits of coal, iron ore, and limestone that made large-scale iron and steel production possible. The city expanded so quickly that it earned the nickname the Magic City, attracting industrialists, railroad executives, investors, laborers, and ambitious businessmen hoping to share in its prosperity.

By 1913, Birmingham had become an important commercial destination, but its hospitality industry had not entirely kept pace with its industrial reputation.

George Gordon Crawford, president of the Tennessee Coal, Iron and Railroad Company, reportedly complained to prominent developer Robert Jemison Jr. that the city lacked a suitably impressive hotel for visiting executives and distinguished guests.

Jemison and other influential businessmen began working toward the construction of a first-class establishment that could rival the finest hotels in the South.

Among the men who helped finance the project was Major Edward Magruder Tutwiler, a wealthy industrialist whose business interests included coal, coke, and iron.

Tutwiler agreed to help underwrite the financing, but he had one particular request: the new hotel should bear his name.

His fellow investors agreed.

On June 15, 1914, the original Tutwiler Hotel opened at the corner of 20th Street and Fifth Avenue North. Thousands of people reportedly attended its opening celebration, an occasion that reflected Birmingham's pride in its newest landmark.

The hotel quickly became a center of the city's business and social life.

Its magnificent lobby, elaborate public spaces, elegant dining facilities, and luxurious accommodations offered the sophistication that Birmingham's industrial leaders had envisioned. Business deals were discussed beneath its ceilings, political figures gathered in its rooms, and social events brought together some of the city's most prominent families.

For decades, the Tutwiler was regarded as one of Birmingham's premier hotels.

But the building's story did not end with its fashionable beginnings.

As Birmingham changed during the twentieth century, the original Tutwiler struggled to maintain its place in the city's hospitality industry. Newer accommodations, changing travel patterns, and the costs of maintaining an aging luxury hotel eventually contributed to its decline.

The original establishment closed in the early 1970s.

In 1974, the once-grand building was demolished to make way for a modern office development. The hotel that had represented Birmingham's industrial confidence for six decades was gone.

For a time, the Tutwiler name survived only in photographs, memories, and the stories of people who remembered its former elegance.

Fortunately, another historic Birmingham building offered the possibility of bringing that name back to life.

Only a short distance away stood the former Ridgely Apartments, an impressive residential building developed during the same period as the original Tutwiler.

The Ridgely was completed in 1914, although some accounts date its development to 1913. It had been financed by Major Edward Tutwiler and developed in association with Robert Jemison Jr., giving it a direct historical connection to the men responsible for the original hotel.

Designed by architect J. E. R. Carpenter with local architect William Leslie Welton, the eight-story building offered luxurious apartment accommodations for Birmingham's affluent residents.

Its red-brick exterior, cream-colored terra-cotta ornamentation, recessed balconies, and graceful architectural arches distinguished it from the surrounding commercial buildings.

Inside, the Ridgely featured elegant marble details and amenities considered impressive for the early twentieth century.

Residents enjoyed private porches, a roof garden, a children's playground, and other conveniences intended to provide comfortable urban living.

For decades, the Ridgely remained one of Birmingham's notable residential landmarks.

In the 1980s, developers recognized an opportunity to preserve the historic apartment building while restoring the Tutwiler name to the city.

The former Ridgely Apartments underwent an extensive renovation and reopened in December 1986 as the new Tutwiler Hotel.

Its transformation preserved important architectural features while adapting the building for modern hotel accommodations.

Once again, the Tutwiler name appeared in downtown Birmingham, although this time on a building with a history quite separate from the original hotel.

The property later underwent additional renovations and became the Hampton Inn & Suites Birmingham-Downtown-Tutwiler in 2007.

In 2026, another multimillion-dollar renovation brought a new chapter, with the property transitioning to the DoubleTree by Hilton brand while retaining the historic Tutwiler identity.

Through all these changes, the building's distinctive exterior and portions of its historic interior have remained, preserving an architectural connection to Birmingham's early twentieth-century prosperity.

But somewhere along the way, the Tutwiler acquired another distinction.

It became known as one of Birmingham's haunted hotels.

Among its most frequently repeated ghost stories is the legend of Major Edward Tutwiler himself, sometimes called Colonel Tutwiler in paranormal retellings.

According to the legend, the hotel's namesake continues to make his presence known, particularly when employees fail to maintain the standards he supposedly expects.

One popular account describes strange disturbances involving lights and appliances. Employees allegedly discovered that lights left switched off would turn on again, sometimes in areas that had already been checked and secured for the night.

Other versions of the story involve faucets, thermostats, and equipment behaving unexpectedly.

Eventually, according to the tale, staff members began acknowledging the supposed presence before leaving, offering a polite goodnight to the hotel's demanding namesake.

The custom is sometimes described as a way of keeping the mischievous spirit satisfied and discouraging further disturbances.

Whether this ritual originated with an actual employee experience or developed through years of retelling is difficult to establish. Nevertheless, it has become one of the most recognizable elements of the Tutwiler's supernatural reputation.

There is an intriguing historical complication, however.

Major Edward Tutwiler was associated with the development of both the original hotel and the Ridgely Apartments, but the present-day hotel was not originally the establishment that bore his name.

That distinction makes the popular suggestion that his spirit somehow transferred from the demolished hotel unnecessary. If the legend were true, his connection to the Ridgely building would already provide a historical association.

Of course, a connection to a building is not evidence that a person haunts it, and there is no verified proof that the disturbances are caused by Tutwiler or anyone else.

Other reports describe unexplained knocking on guest-room doors, particularly late at night.

Some visitors claim to have heard repeated knocks, only to open their doors and discover an empty hallway.

One version of the legend identifies the sixth floor as a particularly active area, with Room 604 sometimes mentioned in paranormal accounts.

The supposed presence has occasionally been nicknamed the Knocker, although the identity of whoever or whatever might be responsible remains unknown.

For a guest awakened in the early morning hours, the experience could certainly be unsettling.

Yet hotel hallways are complicated environments. Sounds can travel through walls, adjoining rooms, stairwells, and ventilation systems. A knock heard at one door may originate elsewhere, and the movements of other guests are not always immediately visible.

Without detailed, independently corroborated accounts, it is impossible to determine whether these incidents have ordinary explanations.

Nevertheless, the stories have persisted.

Visitors and employees have also reported hearing voices in apparently empty corridors, doors closing unexpectedly, and unusual changes in temperature.

Some describe the uncomfortable sensation that someone is standing nearby when no one can be seen.

Others claim to have awakened during the night and glimpsed a figure in their room.

One particularly unsettling account circulated in Birmingham ghost lore describes a guest waking to see a man standing over a child's crib. The figure reportedly vanished, leaving the witness frightened and confused.

The circumstances of this account have not been independently verified, and no reliable identification of the supposed apparition has been established.

Still, it is the sort of story that can turn an ordinary overnight stay into an unforgettable experience.

The Tutwiler's haunted reputation is not limited to any single apparition.

Some accounts suggest that the activity may be connected to former residents of the Ridgely Apartments rather than to the famous industrialist whose name appears on the hotel.

That possibility is frequently overlooked in popular retellings.

Long before tourists began checking into the Tutwiler, the building had been home to generations of Birmingham residents. Families occupied its apartments, children played on its roof garden, and countless ordinary lives unfolded behind its elegant brick walls.

Those residents are an essential part of the building's history, even though their individual stories are less widely remembered than those of Birmingham's wealthy developers.

If one chooses to consider the possibility of a haunting, the building's decades as a residential property offer just as much historical context as its later hotel years.

There is, however, no verified evidence connecting any reported apparition to a specific former resident.

And despite its reputation, the Tutwiler is not known for a documented series of murders or sensational tragedies that can be confidently identified as the source of its ghost stories.

Its appeal lies instead in the combination of architectural history, personal experiences, and legends that have accumulated around the property.

As with many historic hotels, some of the reported activity may have ordinary explanations.

Older buildings can produce unexpected noises as plumbing systems operate, mechanical equipment cycles, and structural materials respond to temperature changes.

Doors may move because of air pressure, while electrical systems and automated controls can behave unpredictably when equipment requires maintenance.

Sounds from adjoining rooms and corridors can also seem to come from somewhere else, particularly late at night when the building is otherwise quiet.

None of these possibilities proves that every reported experience has been explained, but they are important considerations when evaluating claims of paranormal activity.

What makes the Tutwiler especially interesting is that its history contains two distinct buildings connected by one enduring name.

The first was an ambitious luxury hotel built to announce Birmingham's arrival as a major industrial city.

The second was an elegant residential landmark that survived changing fashions, changing ownership, and the redevelopment of downtown Birmingham.

When the original hotel disappeared, the former Ridgely Apartments provided a way to preserve its name and hospitality tradition without sacrificing another historic structure.

That decision gave Birmingham a continuing connection to an important chapter of its past.

Today, the Tutwiler remains a recognizable downtown landmark, surrounded by the civic and cultural institutions of the Magic City.

Its location places visitors near Linn Park, the Birmingham Museum of Art, and other destinations that reflect the city's complex history.

Inside, modern accommodations share space with architectural details that recall the building's early years.

Guests arrive to enjoy the comforts of a contemporary hotel, perhaps unaware that the building once housed some of Birmingham's most fashionable apartment residents.

Others arrive already familiar with the ghost stories, hoping that a night beneath the Tutwiler's historic roof might produce an experience they cannot explain.

Some leave with nothing more mysterious than a pleasant stay.

Others tell stories of footsteps, knocking, strange voices, or lights that seem to have minds of their own.

Whether the hotel's reported hauntings are supernatural, misunderstood events, or simply enduring folklore remains unanswered.

But the building itself is a genuine survivor.

It has stood through more than a century of Birmingham history, watched the surrounding city transform, and taken on an identity its original developers could scarcely have imagined.

And somewhere among its elegant corridors and quiet guest rooms, the legend of Major Tutwiler continues.

Perhaps the old industrialist has finally found a place where everything is maintained to his satisfaction.

Or perhaps, when the lights come on unexpectedly and the last employee prepares to leave, someone should still remember to say goodnight.

Because according to the stories, the Tutwiler's most particular guest has never been especially fond of being ignored. ๐ŸŒน

Visitor Information:
The Tutwiler Hotel
2021 Park Place
Birmingham, Alabama 35203

The Tutwiler is a historic hotel in downtown Birmingham. Following renovations, the property has been transitioning from Hampton Inn & Suites to the DoubleTree by Hilton brand during 2026. Visitors should check the hotel's current operating name, reservation availability, and guest services before traveling.

The property is an operating hotel rather than a dedicated paranormal attraction. Guest rooms and restricted areas are private, and visitors interested in its history should contact hotel management before arranging any special access.

For current reservations and property information, visit Hilton's official website and search for the Tutwiler Hotel in Birmingham, Alabama.

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Sunday, August 17, 2025

The Redmont Hotel – Birmingham, Alabama

The Redmont Hotel – Jefferson County, Birmingham, Alabama
Photograph ©The Rebel Hotel Company

On the corner of 5th Avenue North in downtown Birmingham rises the Redmont Hotel, a landmark that has watched the city change for nearly a century. When it first opened its doors on May 1, 1925, the Redmont was the height of luxury. Each guest room boasted its own private bath and cool water-fed ceiling fans, rare comforts in that era. For Birmingham, the Redmont was more than a hotel — it was a symbol of elegance and progress.

In 1946, businessman Clifford Stiles purchased the property and made his mark in grand style. The following year he transformed the top floor into a private penthouse, complete with its own elevator, terraces, and even a small lawn for his pets. High society parties glittered there, and for a time the Redmont became the place to see and be seen.

By the 1980s, a new set of owners took the reins — a group that included basketball legends like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Their multimillion-dollar renovation breathed new life into the aging hotel. And in 2016, after a careful historic restoration, the Redmont reopened under Hilton’s Curio Collection, blending modern comfort with the charm of its storied past...

But beneath the polish and chandeliers, whispers linger. Guests and staff alike say the Redmont is far from empty when the sun goes down.

One of the earliest tales goes back to 1934, when armed robbers fleeing the law burst through the Redmont’s doors. A shootout in the lobby left one dead, another wounded, and a detective injured. Locals claim that the spirit of the slain man still wanders the halls, trapped in the hotel where his life ended so violently.

The most persistent ghost, however, is said to be Clifford Stiles himself. Though long gone, he seems unwilling to give up his beloved hotel. Guests have reported sheets yanked from beds, cleaning carts knocked over, and the unnerving sense of being watched — as if Stiles is still conducting surprise inspections.

There are gentler spirits too. A phantom dog has been spotted padding softly down the corridors before vanishing into thin air. Some say it was Stiles’ pet, still loyal, still roaming the halls beside its master.

And then there is the legend of Hank Williams. The country music icon spent his final night at the Redmont in 1952 before his fateful last journey. Since then, guests have reported hearing the faint strum of a guitar, or glimpsing the shadow of a man in a cowboy hat drifting through the upper floors.

Add to these stories the countless reports of doors opening and closing on their own, disembodied footsteps echoing down empty corridors, and orbs caught in photographs — and it’s no wonder the Redmont Hotel is known as one of Alabama’s most haunted places.


If You Dare to Visit

Redmont Hotel – Curio Collection by Hilton

Address: 2101 5th Avenue North, Birmingham, AL 35203

Phone: (205) 957-6828

Thursday, October 27, 2022

The Haunting of Fort Gaines

Fort Gaines – Mobile County, Dauphin Island, Alabama

Photograph ©Andrew C. Bennett

Address:
51 Bienville Boulevard
Dauphin Island, Alabama 36528
(251) 861-6992
Website
Tour Information

Fort Gaines, initially established to bolster the nation's security, encountered numerous challenges in its early years. Situated perilously close to Mobile Bay, the original fort grappled with water intrusion during high tide. Additionally, land rights disputes posed a hurdle, though the military eventually secured ownership of the island.

In 1853, a new engineer, appalled by the dilapidated state and outdated plans, advocated for a fresh start. Consequently, a completely new fort, as envisioned by this engineer, was completed in 1858.

The Civil War marked a pivotal period for Fort Gaines, serving as a central hub for blockade running. The turning point occurred in 1864 during the Battle of Mobile Bay, where Union Army commanders, Admiral David Farragut and Major General Gordon Granger, directed a fleet of fourteen ships to close down the fort.

Despite the vigorous defense from Fort Gaines, Admiral Farragut issued the memorable order, "Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!" The Union forces prevailed, and Fort Gaines surrendered, avoiding hand-to-hand combat.

Throughout its history, Fort Gaines played roles in the Spanish-American War, World War I, and World War II, adapting to various military needs. Presently, the Coast Guard maintains a base at Fort Gaines, ensuring its continued service.

Tragically, the site witnessed the deaths of many, with approximately 1,800 casualties in the Battle of Mobile Bay alone. Dubbed "Massacre Island," it is no wonder that the fort is shrouded in the eerie presence of angry, restless spirits.

Numerous visitors and employees have reported encounters with apparitions of former Confederate and Union soldiers roaming the grounds, some captured on film by paranormal investigators. Another spectral figure, identified as a soldier, is said to trail individuals within the fort until they exit through the front gates, leaving an unmistakable presence behind. Ghostly phenomena, including chilling cold spots and unexplained footsteps, add to the haunting ambiance.

The MTV show "Fear" even delved into the paranormal at Fort Gaines, recounting sightings of a Native American woman draped in animal skins and blood. The show shed light on the harrowing events, revealing that storms on Dauphin Island sometimes wash up more bones of departed soldiers. Particularly tragic was the revelation that a collapsed tunnel entombed Native American slaves, chained together and buried alive, their remains never removed. The show also detailed the grim fate of soldiers drowning in an underground pipe during a desperate attempt to escape the fort when high tide unexpectedly flooded their route.



Thursday, January 6, 2022

The Haunting of the University of Montevallo

University of Montevallo –Shelby County, Montevallo, Alabama

Photograph ©State University.Com


Address:
University of Montevallo
720 Oak Street
Montevallo, Alabama 35115
(205) 665-6000
Website

The sprawling 160 acres that now house the University of Montevallo carry a rich tapestry of history and spectral tales that weave through the epochs.

In the 1700s and 1800s, the land was occupied by Native Americans, creating an ancient connection to the region. The 1820s marked the arrival of Edmond King, a wealthy individual who peacefully coexisted with the indigenous population. King, in his affluence, constructed an opulent abode atop a hill, initially named "Mansion House" but later known as "The King House," becoming one of Alabama's most illustrious residences.

As time unfolded, the Civil War era ushered in new chapters for the land. The Confederate Army utilized the area, reportedly constructing underground tunnels for strategic movements. Reynolds Hall, once an ordinary structure, transformed into a hospital during these tumultuous times. It is here that a dark chapter unfolded, as General Sherman ordered the massacre of sick and wounded soldiers before departing the town.

Legend has it that the victims found their final resting place in the King's Cemetery, situated on the present University of Montevallo campus. In 1896, the buildings, including the hospital, were repurposed as the Alabama Girls' Industrial School, later evolving into the Alabama Girls' Technical Institute, a trailblazer in granting degrees for women.

Within this historical backdrop, tragedy struck in 1908 when Condie Cunningham, a young student, perished in a fire while attempting to make hot chocolate. The institution evolved over the years, admitting male students in 1956 and eventually becoming the University we know today by 1969.

Amidst the historical edifices, spectral tales abound. The King House is said to be haunted by the spirit of Edmond King, who allegedly buried his wealth under a tree to thwart Union Army looting. Witnesses claim to have seen his apparition with a lantern and shovel, or peering through windows, possibly counting his hidden treasure.

Reynolds Hall, once a hospital during the Civil War, is haunted by the spirit of Captain Henry Clay Reynolds. The Captain, tasked with protecting the hospital, is believed to roam the halls, with students reporting sightings and eerie feelings. Strange occurrences, such as doors and windows opening on their own and fluctuations in temperature, add to the ghostly atmosphere.

Old Main Hall bears the phantom presence of Condie Cunningham, who tragically lost her life in a dormitory fire. Witnesses have recounted seeing her apparition running down hallways in flames or hearing her screams echoing through the building. Palmer Hall is haunted by W.H. Trumbauer, a former designer passionate about the college's theatrical arts. His spectral presence is said to manifest during dress rehearsals, offering opinions on performances.

Lastly, Hanson Hall is watched over by a former house mother, with students attesting to a ghostly presence during late-night study sessions. Complaints of feeling observed and an unexplained sense of another's company add an ethereal dimension to this campus lore, weaving together the history and hauntings that echo through the halls of the University of Montevallo.



Wednesday, December 19, 2018

The Haunting of Lucas Tavern

Lucas Tavern – Montgomery County, Montgomery, Alabama

Photograph ©misescu1
Address:
310 N. Hull Street
Montgomery, Alabama 36104
(334) 240-4500

In the early 1820’s – 1840’s, the Lucas Tavern was considered to be a tasteful establishment where weary travelers could fill up on a good meal and sleep in a warm, comfortable bed.

The owner of the tavern, Eliza Lucas, enjoyed taking care of her guests and perhaps that is why she was so successful. Eliza and her children lived in the tavern and she worked hard in her business, as well as, taking care of her kids.

Sometime in the 1840’s the Lucas Tavern became a private, residential home for about 100 years. In the 1960’s the home was abandoned. In 1978 the Landmarks Foundation bought it and moved it into Old Alabama Town. The tavern was completely restored by 1980.

After the restorations were finished, Eliza’s apparition became very active! Eliza’s spirit is usually described as being about 5’3 and wearing an old fashioned Victorian-style dress.

Most visitors who see Eliza say she was smiling and waving from the tavern doorway as they passed by.

Eliza isn’t always so pleasant though, sometimes she lets people know when she feels their out of line! One afternoon there was a meeting in the tavern. All the attendees’ were seated in front of the fire place. One of the men was irritably trying to get his opinions across to the rest of the group when all of a sudden a big cloud of ashes and smoke discharged from the fireplace and covered the gentleman’s clothing in soot! Apparently Eliza didn’t like what the man was saying or maybe she just didn’t approve of his attitude!

On another occasion, two employees of the tavern were carrying on a conversation about how the Historical District operates and all of a sudden the door to the room slid up off of its hinges and landed with a loud thump onto the floor in front of them! I guess Eliza didn’t approve of their conversation!

In 1986, Eliza gave a photographer quite a show. He came to the tavern after it was closed and asked if he could take some photographs. After given permission, the photographer headed out behind the tavern to the old one room school house. When he entered he saw a woman looking out the window, dressed in outdated clothing. He assumed the woman was one of the tour guides dressed in costume. The man took several photos and then accidentally bumped a desk and startled the woman. She began to hurry away and he begged her to sit at the teacher’s desk so he could photograph her. She went to a portrait of George Washington and stood under it. She looked at the photographer, smiled and waved and then she floated right through the wall! When the man developed his film the pictures were blank except for a bright golden light that lay right in the spot were Eliza’s image should’ve been.

Eliza has also been known to materialize in front of visitors and employees alike. She is said to tidy up or mess up various rooms and occasionally rearrange things.






Sunday, December 16, 2018

The Haunting of Sturtivant Hall Mansion

Sturtivant Hall - Dallas County, Selma, Alabama

Photograph © Selma Dallas County Historic Preservation Society, 2002

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Address:
713 Mabry Street
Selma, Alabama 36701
(334) 872-5626

The Sturtivant Hall Mansion was built in 1853 by a plantation owner. In 1864 the home was purchased by John Parkman, who was president of the First National Bank of Selma.

Mr. Parkman and his family occupied the home for two years and owned it for six years. Mr. Parkman was thrown in prison for illegal use of bank funds and he died in 1867.

In 1870, three years after John Parkman died, the mansion was sold to another family and the apparition of Mr. Parkman began appearing in the mansion, as well as, around the grounds.

In 1957 the mansion was sold again and turned into a museum.

The ghost of Mr. Parkman has been seen reclining against a side porch or on top of the mansion itself! The presence of Mr. Parkman has been felt in the parlor and the bedroom at the top of the stairs.

Several tour guides have reported hearing footsteps on the second floor that stopped at the top of the steps then continued down the hallway and into bedrooms. When these footsteps were investigated, there was no seen force behind them.

One day an unassuming pest exterminator went upstairs to finish his job. Shortly after, he came running down the steps and claimed that some unseen person had almost pushed him down.

Two more apparitions have been reported in the home and are believed to be the daughters of Mr. Parkman. The transparent figures of the young girls have been spotted looking out the windows of the second floor!

At night, the museum windows and shutters are checked to be sure they are all closed and locked. In the morning, all of the shutters are open. To unlock the shutters, you must first unlock and open the windows, however, the windows are still closed and locked tight each morning.

A door in back of the museum is said to open and close by itself quite frequently, setting off the security alarm each time!

In the building behind the museum, used as a kitchen for the mansion in the 1800’s, has had reports of footsteps, pictures on the walls being tilted on purpose and objects being moved.


Sunday, February 5, 2012

Haunted Sloss Furnace in Birmingham, Alabama


Photo Copyright
mikepenandink  
During the years between 1882 and 1971, Sloss Furnace in Birmingham Alabama produced much of the steel used in America. The industrial revolution brought success to Sloss Furnace and helped put the city of Birmingham on the map. It was during the early part of the century that Sloss Furnace began to earn it's reputation as one of the most haunted places in the country.
James "Slag" Wormwood was a foreman at Sloss Furnace and was in charge of nearly 150 men that were forced to work in unbearable conditions. Temperatures would reach well into the one hundreds. The workers could barely see in the dark conditions of the furnace and their eyes burned from the sweat that the high temperatures produced. Most of the workers had no choice but to work feeding Sloss Furnace with it's much needed coal. They were immigrants. They had no other options if they wanted to feed their families. They were forced to sleep in makeshift barracks and would often be awakened by James "Slag" Wormwood and made to go back to work. There were no labor laws to protect them. Only Slag to torment them.
Slag would often force his poor immigrant workers to perform dangerous duties just to impress his colleagues. Dangerous work conditions had potential to speed up progress and Slag was fine with that. Forty seven workers died under the watch of James "Slag" Wormwood, ten times more than any other shift in the history of the furnace. The injuries were too many to count. Workers were denied breaks. They were often hungry. They were always tired.
The "hell on earth" conditions seemed like they would never end to most under the control of Slag. Until one fateful day when Slag "lost his footing" at the top of the highest furnace and plummeted to his death. His body was said to melt instantly as it hit the iron ore that his workers had slaved to produce. The strange thing was that Slag had never been at the top of the furnace during all his time of employment. Theories suggested that the methane gas produced by Sloss Furnace caused him to become light headed, causing him to slip and fall. Other theories were slightly more sinister.
Many believe that it was the workers who had revolted. Tired of Slag's torment, they dragged him to the top of the furnace and tossed him in. No workers were ever charged with Slags death.
It wasn't long after that workers at Sloss Furnace began to experience odd things. Accidents became more common and the graveyard shift so dangerous that it was done away with. Many claimed that the ghost of Slag had started to inact his vengeance.
As the legend of Slag grew, so did the reports of paranormal activity at Sloss Furnace. A night watchman was pushed from behind by unseen forces and he heard someone yell at him screaming "Get back to work!". Others have felt the presence of Slag and have often described it as pure and absolute evil. One man described seeing a demonic looking creature that attacked him. He had burns on his body where the entity had allegedly hit him with it's fists. Others have heard disembodied voices. Voices demanding that people pick up the pace or "push some steel" have been heard frequently. Most of the most terrifying occurrences have happened during what would have been Slag's shift.
It's no surprise that Sloss Furnace has become a haunted hot spot for paranormal investigators and has been featured on many television shows including "Ghost Hunters" and "Ghost Adventures". Locals believe that James "Slag" Wormwood still reigns over the undead workers at Sloss Furnace. They also believe that he is perfectly willing to get rid of anyone who gets in his way.

By