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The Haunting of the Northern State Mental Hospital in Washington State

Northern State Mental Hospital

Sedro-Woolley, Skagit County, Washington

Photo: Wikipedia


Hidden in the fog-laced hills of Sedro-Woolley, Washington, the Northern State Mental Hospital is one of the Pacific Northwest’s most chilling historic institutions. Established in 1912 as a progressive solution to the growing number of mentally ill patients, the hospital once spanned over 1,100 acres and functioned like a city unto itself. Patients, staff, and doctors lived and worked here in a carefully designed environment that included farms, a bakery, a powerhouse, a laundry facility, and even a cemetery — all tucked into the misty woods of Skagit County.

The hospital was originally seen as a model of compassionate care. Designed by prominent architect Saunders & Lawton and landscaped by the famed Olmsted Brothers (creators of Central Park), Northern State was intended to be a place of rehabilitation. But as time wore on, so did the idealism. Overcrowding, underfunding, and outdated practices began to cast a long shadow over the facility. By the 1940s, the hospital had become a place of isolation, silence, and despair.

Treatments that would be considered barbaric today — electroshock therapy, insulin shock treatments, lobotomies — were common. Many patients were committed for reasons as minor as depression, trauma, or “unruly behavior,” particularly women. Some never left. Others, who had no family to claim their remains, were buried in unmarked graves on the grounds. To this day, over 1,500 patients are believed to be buried there — many without names, only numbers.

After closing its doors in 1973, the hospital was left to decay. Some buildings have been torn down, others sealed up, but the bones of the asylum remain — and the whispers haven’t stopped. Paranormal investigators claim the site is one of the most haunted locations in Washington. They report shadowy figures flitting across abandoned corridors, voices that speak from empty rooms, and the persistent sense of being watched. In the forested trails near the cemetery, cold spots and phantom footsteps follow visitors long after they’ve left.

The most active building is rumored to be the old women’s ward, where guests have heard weeping, experienced sudden waves of dread, and seen rocking chairs sway with no explanation. Flashlights die, electronics glitch, and some say they’ve captured ghostly faces peering through broken windows. The energy is thick — not violent, but sorrowful. It’s as if the land itself mourns what happened here.

Despite its history, Northern State has not faded into obscurity. Today, portions of the land are used for agriculture, trails, and community services. Still, the old buildings remain fenced off, slowly surrendering to moss and time. The Northern State Recreation Area is open for hiking and walking, but the former asylum looms beyond the treeline, watching, waiting.

Whether you're a thrill-seeker, historian, or spiritual empath, visiting Northern State Mental Hospital is not something easily forgotten. Some stories continue to echo long after the screams have stopped — and this place is full of echoes.


Visitor Information:

  • Address: 25625 Helmick Rd, Sedro-Woolley, WA 98284
  • Tour Info: Trails and surrounding grounds are open to the public year-round; some buildings may be visible from a distance.
  • Warning: The main hospital buildings are closed and unsafe for entry. Trespassing is strictly prohibited. Ghosts, however, seem less concerned with boundaries.

The Haunting of the Adams House in Deadwood, South Dakota

The Haunted Adams House

Deadwood, Lawrence County, South Dakota

Photo BoozingAbroad.com


At the edge of historic Deadwood, where the Black Hills cradle stories of gold rushes and gunfighters, one grand Victorian home stands frozen in time — and haunted by it. The Adams House, built in 1892 by prosperous merchant Harris Franklin, was a marvel of its day, with indoor plumbing, electricity, and steam heat. But behind its elegant façade lies a legacy steeped in grief, mystery, and spectral whispers.

After being purchased by W.E. Adams — a local businessman, mayor, and civic leader — the house took on a more tragic tone. Adams’ wife, Mary, passed away in the home in 1934, just a few short years after he gifted her the restored mansion. Her sudden death devastated Adams, who abandoned the house that very year. He left everything exactly as it was — dishes on the table, clothes in the closets, personal items untouched. For over five decades, the house sat like a sealed tomb, a perfect time capsule… or a vessel waiting to whisper.

Visitors and museum staff have long reported strange occurrences within the stately home. Footsteps echo on staircases no one is climbing. Cold spots chill the air in rooms warmed by the sun. Lights flicker without explanation. Some even claim to see a veiled woman peering from the upstairs windows — always watching, yet never seen up close. Could it be Mary Adams still longing for her beloved home?

Others believe the energy of the house itself holds residual echoes — a deep sadness that settled into the walls when W.E. Adams left in mourning. The parlor, where music once played and guests were entertained, now carries an eerie stillness. EVP recordings have captured faint voices, and motion sensors have triggered without a soul in sight.

Now part of the Deadwood Historic Preservation Commission, the Adams House operates as a museum. Its preserved interior offers a glimpse into upper-class life at the turn of the 20th century — but also invites those brave enough to face the whispers of the past.


Visiting Information

Address: 22 Van Buren Street, Deadwood, SD 57732

Phone: (605) 578-3724

Tours: The Adams House is open to the public for guided tours. Seasonal hours may apply. Visit www.deadwoodhistory.com for the latest details.

Note: While ghost tours are not officially part of the offering, many paranormal enthusiasts include the Adams House on their haunted road trip itineraries. Respect the space — and listen closely.

Spookfest: 1692-1693 Salem Witch Trials- Part 2

Voices Accused: The First to Fall: Part 2 of the Four Seasons Spookfest



A dedication to the women and men who lost their lives in Salem, 1692–1693 🕊

They were the first to be accused — Sarah Good, Sarah Osborne, and Tituba. Three women from different walks of life, bound together by a single word: witch.

Sarah Good was poor. Homeless. She wandered the streets of Salem with her small child, begging for scraps. Her bitterness and desperation made her an easy target — she didn’t smile enough, didn’t submit enough, didn’t belong. When the girls began convulsing and crying out, they named her quickly. They said she sent her spirit to torment them. When she was arrested, her 4-year-old daughter was taken with her. The child was questioned. Pressured. Coached into testifying. The court used her words against her mother.

Sarah Osborne had not attended church in months. She had scandalized the community by marrying her indentured servant. Ill and bedridden, she was accused nonetheless — a woman breaking social expectations was threat enough. The girls said she tormented them, too, though she could barely move from her bed.

Tituba was enslaved. An Indigenous woman from South America or the Caribbean, she worked in the home of Reverend Parris. Her stories, her differences, her mere presence made her suspect. Under pressure — likely beaten — she confessed. She said she had seen the Devil. She told them what they wanted to hear. And they believed her.

These three women became the beginning of a storm. The first domino. Their names opened the floodgates of accusation. And in the end, it didn’t matter who was guilty or innocent. What mattered was fear. Control. Power.

The trials had begun. And the gallows were waiting.


They Still Speak

Many believe the spirits of the first accused — and those who followed — still linger in Salem.

Visitors to Proctor’s Ledge often report hearing whispers in the wind, or a sense of deep sorrow that clings to the ground. Some say the Old Burying Point Cemetery carries cold spots that move beside you, even in summer.

At the Witch House, where trials were once discussed, some report shadowy figures darting between rooms. The Joshua Ward House, long associated with Giles Corey’s ghost, is known for its heavy energy — nausea, dizziness, even sudden tears.

And those who dare to stand in silence in Salem at night? Some say you can still feel the presence of the accused. Still hear the footsteps. The sorrow. The injustice.

Because the truth was never laid to rest.

And they still speak.


Back then… they called it witchcraft. Today… we call it something different.

Bullying. Slandering someone’s name. Spreading gossip.

It ruins lives. Be mindful.