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Before I tell you what happened when we visited Old Stone House, I will say up front that I have no desire to visit there again. I will, I’m sure, out of stupidity and curiosity, but I’ve seen enough horror movies to know when to stay away from a creepy location.
Most of the information on the hauntings at Old Stone House — there are 11 individual spirits alleged to have taken up residence between the rock walls — is legend and hearsay. Whispers based on whispers based on whispers with little or no sourcing.
Old Stone House is also exceptionally old. It was first erected in 1765, according to the National Park Service. It is the oldest structure in the District on its original foundation.
There were owners of the property before that, though. A Historic American Buildings Survey from 1936 states that a John Boone owned the land in 1757. Then came Christopher Leyhman (referred to elsewhere as “Layman”) and Cassandra Chew.
One tidbit about the building that does have some entertaining — albeit somewhat confusing — historical backing is that original efforts to preserve Old Stone House were taken because locals screwed up and mistook the building as George Washington’s headquarters during the 1791 survey to outline D.C.
Old Stone House served as a private residential and commercial property (in the 1930s, it was allegedly a bordello; then it was a car dealership) until the federal government bought it in 1953.
n his book, “Haunted Places: The National Directory” (you can rent a copy from Archive.org), Dennis Hauck identifies the following phantoms as seemingly permanent residents:
George is said to be one of the few truly malevolent specters in the District. He despises women and haunts the third-floor bedroom. He has been accused of shoving, choking, knifing and sexually assaulting women who enter his room.
Something at the Old Stone House just feels … wrong.
My wife and I visited Old Stone House twice. The first time was overnight Oct. 11.
Old Stone House has a foreboding presence. For my wife and me, there was something ominous about it. Like we shouldn’t be there and certainly weren’t welcome.
The faint glow from upstairs work lights permeated the whole place. At one point, on the first floor, toward the back, I thought I saw something move — but I freely admit it could have been a case of the jitters.
We meandered around the property for a while, taking photos and talking, trying to determine where the various sources of light were coming from.
This point of interest is part of the tour: Spooky DC
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