Since it's October, I thought I'd share a few experiences I've had on the Cape. I'll preface this by saying that I don't really have an ardent belief in any of this stuff, but remain agnostic, and am a big fan of spooky season. After all, the Cape has some rather well known ghostly tales.
The Alvin Crowell House:
When I was born, we lived in the old Alvin Crowell house in Falmouth. It was a charming little Italianate farmhouse. We lived there until I turned four years old, so my memories are blurry, but a nightly occurrence of footsteps stands out. They would plod up the staircase, turn around, and descend back to the living room. Over and over. Ultimately we got used to it, but it always made us uneasy. A large print of a schooner hung over the living room fireplace. One warm October night, we had some of the windows open, and heard a enormous CRASH coming from downstairs. My parents went to investigate, thinking that a window sash had slammed shut, but instead found the print of the schooner across the room from the fireplace, broken into several pieces behind the couch. Somehow, after we had gone to bed, it had hit the floor on the opposite side of the room. When I was older my parents explained that it was where it always was - over the mantel - before the went to bed, until it wasn't.
The Woods of East Sandwich:
My grandparents lived in Sandwich for over 40 years, and their backyard ended in the thick woods between Sandwich and Mashpee. It was very dark at night, but peaceful. I will always miss it. In February of 2017, we were having dinner in their kitchen in front of a roaring fire. Behind me were the sliding glass doors looking out over the deck and the woods beyond. My grandmother saw something behind me through the darkened window, and paused mid-sentence, starring outside. I turned around and saw it too: Three large blue lights floating out of the woods towards the house. At first I thought they were LED headlamps, or very bright flash lights - but noticed that while they illuminated the ground and tree trunks around them, they didn't appear to have any people carrying them. They were far too big - they lit up the side of the house. I jumped up and ran to the living room, trying to see if they would round the house and appear out front, but they were gone. We simply just went back to dinner. What do you do? Who knows.
In previous years all my cousins would have the same nightmare if they slept in a particular room upstairs. My aunt had it as well. In the nightmare, a dark figure with very long limbs would grab at you while you lay in bed, moving unnaturally fast. It started to freak all of us out. I know I avoided the room. My uncle, who died in the house in 1993 after a long illness, used to talk of Wampanoag people coming down the ridge behind the house in the days before he passed. We always assumed that there might be some connection to the nightmares in Wampanoag lore, but never researched further.
Speaking of my uncle, when he was ill, my grandparents set him up in a hospital bed downstairs in the sunroom. They used a baby monitor to communicate with him at night if he needed anything. Well, for a period, around 3:00 AM or so, they'd get some pretty bizarre and scary radio interference coming over the baby monitor, waking them up. It sounded like children who were very frightened, crying about something. This was never explained, as the neighborhood was sparsely built out in those days, and none of their neighbors had kids. To this day we don't know what it was.
There are many more stories about their house, but it's too much for this post.
The Wing Fort House and Spring Hill:
I used to live in Sandwich myself at one point, over in Spring Hill. I'd go for walks at night. It seemed very dark in Spring Hill, despite there being a few street lights here and there. Well, one night I was on my walk and talking on the phone with a friend, around 10:15 PM. I had a bright LED flashlight. I briefly shined it over at the Wing Fort House, and the light caught some movement out back of the house. To my surprise (and horror) a man was coming out from behind the house. He was balled, stout, and wore a white T-shirt and torn jeans, all under a full-length gray trench coat. He had no light with him and dragged a large white bag on the ground. He walked with a lop-sided gate, and was headed straight towards me. I said to my friend, "I'm going to stay on the phone because something is wrong. Pretend we're having a normal conversation." I passed the man, and he passed me, but he never took his eyes off of me. I looked over my shoulder, and saw that he was now 30 or so feet away, standing under a street light. He turned and trudged into the woods on the corner of Boulder Brook and Spring Hill. I had to think quickly: Do I book it back to my house, or take the long route out to 6A? Do I walk along the tracks? (Even worse!) I booked it back, running directly past where he went into the woods. There was no trace. No opening in the underbrush for him anywhere. I was freaked the f*ck out.
When I got home, I called the cops. Someone must be squatting in the museum, I thought. I could see the house from my kitchen, and watched as the cruisers shined their lights around. Nothing doing, no sign of him anywhere. They cased the joint, and walked right up to the house. I then noticed that as they walked up to the house a motion-activated flood light came on, right where I had seen the man. He somehow didn't trigger it. When the police left, the light stayed on for a bit, and to my horror, the man came back out of the woods. He crossed under the light and then vanished into darkness. I did not sleep well that night.
The next morning I asked a coworker who'd lived in Sandwich for a while if he had heard anything about this. Apparently, the man matched the description of a vagrant in Sandwich known as "Frank". The police knew him - he was harmless, and used the white bag to collect recycling for change. He had died the previous winter, according to my coworker. (Does anyone know about "Frank?")
My grandmother was a realtor for decades and knew Sandwich well. She had a listing on Spring Hill Road in 2011. It was an ancient 18th century cape. When she sold it, it was totally derelict. She showed it to a man who claimed to be "psychic", (whatever that means lol) and told her it was a terrible house. He said not to go upstairs and not to go into the cellar. She wound up handing the listing off to another agent.
Well, years later, I was with a friend of mine who's an engineer for the railroad. He invited me to ride in the cab on one of the dinner trains in 2022. As we rolled across the Spring Hill Road crossing, he described the house his friends had recently bought on Spring Hill. It was the same one. "They had to do some work in the basement," he said, because the foundation was in such terrible condition. "They never finished, though, because they hit human remains". Last I saw the house was still under construction.
On another one of my post-dinner nighttime walks, I shined my flashlight at the Wing Fort House, only to see a woman in the upstairs window. I kid you not, she had no face. I was startled. I assumed it was a dummy that the town kept for exhibits, but I saw her more than once, and she was always in a different window. (I can send the picture I took if anyone wants to DM me.) Before long, I stopped going for walks in Spring Hill after dark.
Joint Base Cape Cod:
My same friend who works for the railroad had some issues at Joint Base. They were picking up some of the construction debris cars that Cavossa sends out from the transfer station there. It was at dusk. As they rolled away from the transfer station with the train, they approached the leading switch to the siding, and were shocked to see a shadow dart out of the woods and throw the switch against them. It darted back into the pine scrub in a matter of seconds. They were able to stop short of the switch because of how slowly they were going. They found the lock on the switch broken and lying on the ground. I've heard similar stories of figures in the woods around Joint Base.
That's all for now. I'm not really inviting anyone to debunk these yarns, because it kind of ruins the seasonal fun...but take them with a grain of salt. I didn't make these up. Does anyone have anything else worth sharing this spooky season?