The other day while a couple of ladies were stumbling upon a human head while on a hike, a friend and I headed up the hill towards the same park – albeit a few miles east of the Bat Cave walk of dead body parts.
It had been a while since I had strenuously walked, so I voted to not enter the park, but to instead go visit a residence I affectionately call “The Murder House.”
But Mary Anne, (you say) you completely freaked out at the thought of finding a dead body or portion of one? What’s the interest in visiting a house where a horrific crime took place?
Have you READ the article I linked to? (The Murder House one. Read it or the rest of this might not make sense.)
It’s beyond Nancy Drew-worthy. I had come across the story randomly awhile ago. First of all, I guess everyone calls it The Murder House. Secondly, yes I occasionally peruse a site called imnotastalker. That shouldn’t surprise you.
Anyway, if you click on some of the links she has, you can see pictures people have taken through the window. And the freaky gets freaky-er.
My friend went to the house pretty soon after I sent her the link. Which meant she knew how to get us there. I have to admit, I was all, “I want to look in the window.” and “I want to see these Christmas presents wrapped and untouched.” I was only half bluffing.
Until I saw the house. Standing on the street you just get this feeling as you look up at this huge monstrosity of an abandoned mansion. I was curious (outloud) about a staircase visible through the main front window that has no banister. So, it should not have surprised me that our lingering pause in the middle of the street caught the attention of the contractor rehabbing the house across the street.
He asked us if we knew the story. I checked to make sure we hadn’t just pulled up in the Mystery Machine and left Shaggy and Scooby in the car. We invited ourselves into his workspace and went back and forth on what we had read in various articles and what he had heard from the neighbors.
He told us that the very house he was renovating was purchased for a (relative) song as the previous owners (who may or not be the same people the daughter sought help from) wanted to get away from the house. To be fair, aside from a few mature trees, they have a pretty good view of it. It sits high up on a hill and is gargantuan. I noticed the neighbors to the sides all have blocked views too. Either from trees or built-up hills.
I (not surprisingly) lost any type of courage to bypass the trespassing sign and walk up the driveway. Even when our new friend Jon told us that if we looked at the back of the house we would see they had barred up the upper balcony to prevent any “accidents” the doctor might have had in his diminished mental state there at the end. (I investigated and found a picture proving it true.)
This guy told us the house still belongs to the kids but I can’t find anything confirming that. He also told us one of the daughters is a doctor.
We then began discussing whether we’d be able to live in it. Jon was all, “well it’ll need a total gut.” That’s when I told him he would be the perfect person to do it and he said he would. And I was all, you would?! Because I don’t know that I could.
I’m not sure what the statute of limitations is on disclosing bad things happening in houses for sale, but I will definitely take the advice of a friend who googles addresses of houses she’s interested in.
I don’t know enough about ghosts or bad energies but to be wary of them. And the idea of multiplying the feeling I had at the base of the driveway times whatever it would be at the front door and in the foyer is not something I’m interested in doing. Silly, perhaps. And I don’t even know if it’s the deaths that deter me (a lot of it) or the mystery of whatever it is keeping people from living in it ever since. I mean, something has to be going on in there.
Any sale now would mean a LOT of work and staging. Not only to get it up to current code (Jon’s explanation for why there could be a staircase with no banister), but it surely has deteriorated in 50 years of being basically ignored.
All that being said, I would love to see the kitchen. (And let’s face it the rest of the house.) But I’d be fine to do so in pictures.