That War-Torn Hamilton House

Over a decade ago my dad was living in Hamilton, OH, the city where he was born and grew up. He had long since moved away from there, but at that particular time he had moved back to Ohio and needed a place to live. He found a guy had turned his basement into an apartment and was renting it out, so my dad wound up living there for a short time. While living there, he had more than a few creepy experiences.

When he first moved in he was laying in his bed, in the basement, reading a book. Suddenly he heard a loud BOOM that shook the house. He thought there was a gasoline delivery truck that exploded just down the street. He said the noise was deafening. He got out of bed and looked outside, to see a bunch of people in a neighboring yard hanging out and having fun, looking as if they hadn’t heard a thing.

A short while later he heard the same boom, and again nobody else outside seemed to be bothered by it. Not wanting to sound crazy, he kept it to himself.

One day he was on the main floor in the kitchen washing dishes. He felt someone walk behind him and bump into him. He figured it was the guy who he was renting from just messing with him. He chuckled, set what he was washing down in the sink, and went into the living room to find that man laying back in a recliner, sleeping. My dad told me the man was sickly and couldn’t move too fast, so it quite obviously wasn’t him.

He then noticed the door leading to the attic standing wide open and the light at the top of the attic steps on. The door was in the dining room, and the dining room was in between the kitchen and the living room. The man who owned the house stored nothing in the attic, and it was completely empty. The light switch was at the bottom of the steps by the door. My dad, wondering who was up there, climbed the stairs just far enough to look into the attic and saw nobody was up there. He went back down, turned the light off and shut the door.

A little while later, he noticed the door was open and the light was on. Again, he went up, saw nobody, and came back downstairs. He shut the light off and closed the door. The man he rented from was awake, so he told the guy about it and the guy said it was no big deal but it happened all the time. My dad then told him about the booms and being bumped in the kitchen. The guy said all sorts of strange things happen there all the time to anybody who entered the house. He said the booms sounded to him like canon fire, and when they happened, only one or two people in the house would hear it at a time, even if more people were there when it happened.

Before my dad stopped living there another guy rented another room there and he would often tell my dad about hearing the boom when my dad and the guy who owned the house wouldn’t hear it. Or my dad would hear it and they wouldn’t.

At one point my dad, growing sick of the light in the attic, went up to it, unscrewed it and brought it down with him. He set it on an end table next to the couch in the living room. A little while later that day he walked by and the door was once again open, and the light was on. He looked up the stairs to see the bulb screwed in. Checking the end table, it was, of course, not there.

One time the owner’s cat went up in the attic when my dad had walked by and turned the light off and shut the door. I can’t remember completely that part of the story, but when they discovered the cat up there and opened the door, it shot out of the attic and they didn’t see it for quite some time after that.

My wife told me my dad told her about how they nailed the door to the attic shut, only to find the door open and all of the nails removed. I don’t remember that part of it, but she swears he told her that.

Lastly, my dad had been contacted by a lady whom he had grown up with, as she was a good friend to one of his sisters. They decided to hang out one night and my dad drove her around, mostly to department stores in downtown Hamilton. She would go in to shop and he would sit in his van waiting for her. She later came out and told him to drive off. He later found out she had been shoplifting extremely expensive jewelery and clothing. She left all of her goods in his van and one night while on one of her theft expeditions, she was caught and taken to jail.

My dad later discovered the stolen goods in his van and wondered what he should do with them. His sister said that he should put them in the attic where he was staying until she got out, so he did. He set them in the attic, clothes all folded and in a stack, the jewelery on top of them, on the floor at the top of the steps. Later when the lady got out of jail and wanted her stuff, they went into the attic to get them only to find them completely thrown around the attic.

My dad said chances were good that he was hearing long lost canon fire, first heard in the Ohio Indian Wars. Could be, considering Fort Hamilton is just right up the road from where he was staying, and that area saw a lot of fighting. Who knows what’s haunting that house, or what it’s love is for the attic.

Sadly, I never got to visit the house, but I would love to. Unfortunately, the man who owned it has probably passed on, as he was sickly when my dad lived there and was told by a doctor near the end of my dad’s stay that he only had a few months to live. Regardless, that section of Hamilton may have quite a few houses experiencing the same, or similar things, as that entire area dealt with that particular war. Hamilton itself has its fair share of haunted houses, anyway.

Also, don’t steal.

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One response to “That War-Torn Hamilton House

  1. Reblogged this on HEY! Hamilton! and commented:
    Here’s an interesting post about a Hamilton ghost….

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