Waverly Hills

I now pronounce the Boo Crew Blog open for business!

Hello, ghost readers.

Last year, we conceived of this blog to track our haunted house and Halloween experiences. The plan was to rate them and everything. Alas, we failed spectacularly. This year, everything will be different. No, seriously. This year, we’re going to blog the fuck out of this Halloween season.

My name is Chip. Hopefully, this won’t be my only entry here.

Yesterday, Kroger had their ceramic Halloween jack-o-lantern decorations out. Soon, kindly neighbors will decorate their homes with bones and tombstones and witches and ghosts. Horror movies will dominate our queues. And most importantly, haunted houses will open. Last year, the Boo Crew visited thousands and thousands of haunted houses, and we will soon(ish) post about our favorites and least favorites. Maybe. No, no. Seriously.

You may think it’s a little early to start celebrating Halloween. Yes, it is still ninety plus degrees outside. To you, I say nay. If Christmas music and Santa Claus can dominate American culture for two months, Halloween should get three months cause fuck Christmas. Halloween is better. In celebrating the opening of the Halloween season, I took a field trip to the Waverly Hills Sanatorium in Louisville, Kentucky. For those who don’t know, Waverly Hills is a legit haunted house. It’s not a staged tour. There’s no one in masks. And there’s not a chain saw killer lurking outside the exit. In the early 1900s, Waverly Hills was a sanatorium designed for victims of tuberculosis. It was built properly in 1926 and operated until 1961. It was then turned into a nursing home for twenty years until it was shut down due to patient neglect. Estimates have that about eight thousand people died at Waverly Hills over this time. It changed hands a lot until 2001, when it became a tourist attraction for ghost hunters. Because it’s creepy as fuck.

Waverly Hills holds weekly tours during the summer, and the Boo Crew had talked about going sometime, but it kept getting away from us. Last week, I noted that there was only one weekend left with spots available, but no one was available to go. So, I took it upon myself to go it alone.

I had no idea what to expect. I purchased the full eight hour overnight “tour”. It was the only one left available. You’re supposed to arrive just before midnight, and then explore the sanatorium until just past dawn. Lucky for me, it occurred to me at just the right time that I had to leave from Nashville an hour earlier than I planned since Louisville is an hour ahead - despite being north. I always forget about that. Alas, that meant I had to race out the door unprepared. I had no flashlight (which you are recommended to bring) and no charger for my phone, which I had been using all day.

Waverly Hills is tricky to find. The address they tell you to google takes you to nowhere. There is a strange, unmarked road that leads to a golf course. I started up that road - unsure if I was going to right way. I even turned around once, but realized it’s the only possible place Waverly Hills could be. I arrived at the top of a hill where a man approached my car and asked, “Can I help you?” as if I didn’t belong there. I asked if this was Waverly Hills. I guess this is your first test. He marked my name on a clipboard, opened the gate and told me to go to the top of the hill. I parked in a gravel lot and waited around cluelessly with some others who had no idea where we were supposed to go or do. This was already sketchy as hell. Soon, a woman in the dark called to us and told us to follow her. She took us to a brightly lit gift shop where we could check in and wait until midnight.

About fifty people were here. All nerds. Most had a backpack. Some had electronic equipment in bags. And there was a refreshingly large number of losers like me who seemed to be here on their own (at one point, a guide announced that one of the guests was here for the fifth time this summer.) At the gift shop slash concessions area, I purchased an overpriced flashlight. The petite and spacey lady who sold me the flashlight (she would later turn out to be our guide) told me that spirits often communicate through maglite flashlights. Twisting the end to turn the light on and off. Hence, I was so fucking prepared.

At midnight, the other guide announced that we needed to split into two equal groups. I stepped to one side of the room. One of the other losers here on his own started up a conversation with me. Cam. So I had at least one person whose name I could scream if something started to go horribly wrong. Our group was led in through the first floor of the Sanatorium. The twenty-something of us filed into the dark hallway - the only light a green glowstick hanging around our guide’s neck. The guide closed and locked the door behind us. For the next twenty minutes, she told us stories about the various sightings and hot spots of ghostly activity around the first and second floors.

Aaaaargrhh!

Sorry. My boss just walked up behind me and scared the shit out of me.

The guide told us about the body chute, where people have reportedly seen shadows moving and heard children laughing. Guests also often report a feeling of being pushed down the chute stairs. She took us to the morgue, where you can crawl into a cadaver drawer and lie down. Guests often report feeling a heavy pushing on your chest here. She took us to an office with a creepy mirror and a partition. Guests often report hearing movement and whispering on the other side of the partition. She led us down the pitch black hallway, which is used for a haunted house around the Halloween season, so there’s plenty of spaces with spooky drawings on the walls, and skulls hanging from light fixtures - making this stretch of the Sanatorium feel a little phony. The last stop on the first floor was the lobby stairwell. The guide described the area as a “vortex” that seems to be a door to another world. Some of the ghost activities here involve lights and voices.

The second floor consisted of patients rooms. She took us to one particular room where a guest named Lois lived and died. They know she stayed in this room because one of her descendants remembered visiting her here on a tour many years ago. Since then, they’ve begun communicating with Lois (who knows the trick with the flashlight said our guide). There’s even a makeshift memorial in the closet with a picture of her, some coins, and a few small stuffed animals. At this point, the guide asked us if we wanted to split into smaller groups or roam around free. Everyone elected to roam around free. Cam asked if I wanted to stick with him rather than join a larger group or go it alone. That sounded good to me, so Cam and I stuck together for the rest of the night.

We strolled in and out of the rooms on the first floor. We found one room that must have been made up for Halloween. Inside, we found a bed with a bloody pillow, blood stains on the wall, and a wheelchair. All the creepy shit. Nothing scary happened. We went to the morgue and took turns lying in the cadaver drawer. Nothing scary happened. We walked down to the bottom of the body chute and tried to record a conversation with ghosts. Aside from the giant wolf spiders looming on the wall, nothing scary happened. We wandered around in the pitch black, occasionally happening upon people doing seances. Nothing scary happened. We found a room lined with suits of armor. Nothing scary happened.

Upstairs, we wandered through the halls, noting the wreckage and graffiti. Mike Dunne sucks cock. In one room at the end of the hall, my flashlight first started going nuts. It would continue to flash on and off erratically throughout the night. We went to Lois’ room where we attempted to communicate with Lois. This marked our first encounter with one of the bats. All night long, bats flew through the halls, dive-bombing us. Cam was hit at one point. That was pretty goddamn scary.

We came back to the lobby stairwell, where some ghost hunters had electrical equipment set up. A light grid spotted the wall with red dots, and they invited any spirits present to turn on the flash light. More bat harassment ensued. The head ghost hunter explained to us that he doesn’t believe in ghosts. Instead, he believes in some kind of energy that moves between planes something something new age something. No ghosts came in or out of the vortex.

At four a.m., we took a “break”. During the break, we went back to the gift shop where we could use the restroom and buy some refreshments. We talked to a couple who had regular experiences with spirits. The man looked military, but said that he wasn’t - although he did have military grade night vision goggles with him. He and his wife run a daycare. He told us stories of things getting moved around, and the spirit of a young girl walking down the stairs one day. In broad daylight. They had been in the other group and spent the previous few hours on the upper floors. He reported that the night vision goggles were strangely foggy on the fourth floor, but clear everywhere else. He told us about one room on the third floor that gave him an overwhelming feeling of dread. He refused to go into that room. He also related a story to us about some teens who broke into Waverly Hills years before and found themselves trapped in one of the rooms. Apparently, they had an axe with them cause of course and they attempted to chop the door down in an effort to escape. When the police came, they simply opened the door to let the teens out. The teens had been unable to open it from the inside. The man swore he had read the police report on the incident. We were excited about what we might experience on the upper floors. We then split into two groups again. This time, our guide took us to the third, fourth and fifth floors. These are the more infamous floors.

On the third floor, our guide took us to the elevator doors. She explained how a homeless man and his dog had been living on the property years earlier. Then one day, their bodies were discovered. They had been murdered and thrown into the elevator shaft. No one found the killers. But the creepiest part was the story of a previous guest who had one night wandered into the room behind the elevator only to find the apparition of a man in a trench coat and with no eyes.

On the fourth floor, we went to the operating room where the guide mentioned that bats like to dive bomb flashlights. That information would have been more helpful earlier. She explained the kind of horrific, outdated operations that took place in this room. She then told us about the crawler and the big black. Apparently, the sanatorium is riddled with shadow people. A few are so distinctive, they have been given names by the guides. The crawler is a monkey-like shadow that crawls on the walls and moves quickly. The big black is a giant vacuum of darkness that can supposedly envelope guests and cut them off from other guests. That sounded cool. I wanted to see that. Our guide also told us of a child’s ghost nicknamed Timmy. Apparently guests will often bring bouncing balls to Waverly Hills explicitly to play with Timmy. Our guide told us that balls here often roll in erratic ways - going in circles and making ninety degree turns into open doors.

The fifth floor is where room 502 is located. Apparently, it is the most notorious of the rooms. It was here that one nurse hanged herself just outside of the door. Another nurse fell slash jumped slash mysterious something somethinged out the window. Again, the guide asked if everyone wanted to free roam or break into smaller groups. Again, everyone opted for free roam. Cam and I went down to the third floor, found some balls, and tried to get Timmy to play with us. The balls did often roll in strange ways, but the floor is fucked up. We found a lot of small groups who would settle down and sit in a dark space - trying to communicate with ghosts. We roamed around, stopping occasionally to explore a room. Eventually we found our way back up to the top floor, where the same group of ghost hunters were successfully communicating with a spirit who would turn a flashlight on and off as if on cue. We determined it was a female spirit and that she may have been raped by one of the male doctors. I didn’t completely follow how this was arrived at, but it was.

One of the guides came back and brought her ghost box, which she used to ask the ghost questions. Unfortunately, the ghost box mostly resulted in a cacophony of voices and words. Others claimed to pick out individual words that answered specific questions. I couldn’t pick out shit, but watched the whole thing - completely enthralled. Eventually, we got a headache from the ghost box and headed back downstairs. We went back to Lois’ room and tried to talk to her with our flashlight - just like the ghost hunters up by 502 had down. Unfortunately, nothing scary happened. We found an area with electricity, which was disappointing. It took away just slightly from the authentic feel of the tour. We sat on a small stage and attempted to talk to spirits there. Nothing scary happened. When we went back upstairs, dawn was breaking. We set our flashlight down and attempted to replicate the scene from before. Alas, nothing happened. The spirits were no longer interested in our flashlights.

The sanatorium was well lit at this point, so we went back down to the first floor, which was still mostly dark. The place seemed nearly deserted at this point. We passed one woman in the dark, who was wandering around by herself. She told us that everyone in her group had claimed to be touched or had seen something over the course of the night. Now she was wandering around alone - hoping to experience something. Anything. Cam reiterated that fuck no he is not wandering around by himself. Eventually, we found the other guide who was attempting a seance with two divining rods. She seemed to be getting some reactions with the rods moving back and forth freely. But she, too, pulled out a ghost box. She asked the spirits if they were friendly. She said they replied that they were not. She asked if the spirit who had hissed at her last weekend was in the room. Apparently, this spirit was. A lot of questions with ambiguous answers ensued.

By now, the tour was over. Waverly Hills looked much less creepy in the morning light. It’s a sprawling building in various stages of decay. And while nothing scary happened to us, the night was filled with people who legitimately expected something truly supernatural to be there. Including me. Bot Cam and myself identify as skeptics. Although we have both seen and experienced strange things, none of those experiences cemented any certainty in the afterlife. I’m sure those more in tune with the spirit world would feel that our skepticism kept us from experiencing anything over the course of the night. Regardless, the experience is fun and creepy. If I had truly been by myself, I might have let my imagination run away with me - but having just one sane person there made me feel completely safe. When I left, I was very much overwhelmed with a feeling of depression and despondency. It lasted the whole day, which I spent in bed - unable to find the strength or will to get up. Then again, I had been awake for twenty-seven hours straight. I wondered if it were possible that a spirit had hitched a ride home with me. More likely, I was wiped out. I eventually shook it off just in time for work the next morning. That’s when the usual more familiar existential dread kicked back in. But then it turned out that Cam had been dead for twenty years ....

One part of this story may not be true.