In a Haunted Antiques Shop – One-Shot Story

For several years, Kate and I rented booth space in a New England antiques shop that turned out to be very haunted. A delightful British woman (whom I’ll call “Mrs. P”) had purchased the place, turned its first floor into rental booths, and lived on the second floor with her teenage son. Mrs. P certainly knew how to run a store, and we sold a lot there… including some cameras I wish I’d kept!

A Haunted History?

For this article, I decided to dig into the building’s past, and its haunting is perhaps understandable. Built in the mid-18th century, it probably has more backstory than the web knows. Mrs. P never mentioned it, but the town graveyard– established in the 17th century along with the town itself– is the final resting place for most of the original settlers. And they were all buried behind her building.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, the property changed owners five times– the first four sales for amounts increasing up to $400,000. But public records indicate that its fifth sale was for only $50,000– 85% below asking price! And the seller had paid eight times more for it just two months earlier! So it looks like the building’s haunted history may have been re-discovered.

I say “re-discovered” because there’s good reason to believe it was known to the local Catholic church before Mrs. P had even moved in. For when she opened the front door on her first business day, two unsmiling nuns stood outside. Without saying a word, they stepped in past her, walked down the central hall to the back of the building, stood silently at the basement door, walked back to Mrs. P’s desk by the front door, handed her a vial of Holy Water, said “Take this… You’ll need it,” and left. Seems like they had prior experience with the place.

Fortunately, she followed their advice.

The Building Awakens

Kate and I rented our booth for quite some time without knowing about a haunting. And perhaps Mrs. P hadn’t known either. But that changed. One day, when I came alone to re-stock our booth, she confessed to being quite scared. Things had begun to move on their own throughout the place. And she had just used the Holy Water.

That happened the week before… when her son was away and Mrs. P was alone, reading in bed. The room turned ice-cold, and she saw a mist swirling in one of the ceiling’s corners. The vortex widened, darkened and floated down through the room toward her. As it approached, she felt like she was being pressed into the mattress. And in terror as the intruder passed her bed’s foot-board, she opened the Holy Water and emptied it into the cloud. It immediately vanished, never to return.

I absentmindedly unpacked my stock while she told her tale. And I had just placed a metal basket with a pink Depression-Glass insert on a glass display case when the basket began to move on its own. It scratched across the glass so hard that its metal feet left parallel tracks. And when the basket reached the case’s edge, it gently floated down to the floor and settled by my feet.

It was a definite poltergeist move. And not the last. While we discussed what had just happened, two collectible china plates detached from where they hung on the wall behind Mrs. P’s desk, floated across the room, and also settled gently to the floor at my feet.

Wonderful.

I’d experienced much worse in the past, and nothing scares me anymore. So I finished stocking the booth, told her that I’d come back soon, and headed home.

Voices in the Basement

When Kate and I returned a few weeks later, Mrs. P was in a near panic. All morning, she’d heard voices coming from her basement. And for reasons I do not know, she had never gone down there. So she asked if I’d see what was going on. I headed down, and as I descended, Mrs. P whispered to Kate “I wouldn’t do that in a million years.”

Well, it was a unique experience! Reaching the bottom, I found myself in the cleanest basement I’d ever seen. Nothing… and I mean NOTHING… was stored down there, and the walls and floor were as freshly painted as when Mrs. P moved in. I tried to engage with whatever might have been down there, but to no avail. And the only thing out-of-the-ordinary was a small desiccated frog flattened in the middle of the floor.

So I climbed back out with nothing to report.

A Wandering Stench

But our fun wasn’t over. As I closed the basement door behind me, the stench of rotting meat descended on us. Our noses helped us follow it as it moved throughout the first floor. And after it had visited all rooms, it vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. Mrs. P then returned to her desk, and Kate and I finished stocking our booth.

Then, when we next returned, Mrs. P told us to start emptying our booth. She was selling the place, and maybe even returning to England. But she also confessed something that dropped our chins to the floor.

Mrs. P had a secret life. That sweet, charming, little Brit was also a U.S. Immigration and Naturalization agent, who on request, escorted deportees out of the country! And as far as we knew, during all those haunted bits, she may have had a tiny little gun tucked away in her purse.

But guns aren’t good against ghosts, are they?

And a Paranormal Footnote

Legally, Massachusetts is a “buyer beware” state. Neither home sellers nor real-estate agents are required to reveal details about what are called “stigmatized properties.” This includes buildings that may be haunted or the scenes of death. Here’s an overview of various U.S. states’ positions on the subject. It should be required reading for anyone who may buy or sell a “compromised” property.

And contrary to what some believe, sellers and realtors are not widely required to answer direct questions about things that go bump (or “boo”) in the night.

–Dave Powell is a Westford, Mass., writer and avid amateur photographer.

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