My Haunted Manor : The Grand Opening.
Samuel Miller Mansion: A Haunting Experience at My Haunted Manor's Newest Location
Disclaimer This is the general retelling of our night, some details have been left out due to length or privacy concerns, and may be added in later. **
Our visit to My Haunted Manor's newest location, the Samuel Miller Mansion in Columbia, PA, was an experience that will forever be etched into my memory. The energy of this place was palpable from the moment we approached town, and what unfolded was nothing short of chilling.
Taylor and I embarked on our journey to Columbia, PA, equal parts excited and nervous, maybe even anxious. It became clear as we approached the threshold of town, this was going to be a night we’d never forget. As we passed under a massive bridge on the outskirts of Columbia, I was immediately struck by an overwhelming sensation. My emotions surged, and tears welled up in my eyes without warning. It was as if the spirits of the area were already reaching out, desperate to be heard. My body buzzing in a familiar sensation of what means to me “hallowed ground” there were remains or bodies or deaths here. I wanted to dig into the history because this feeling was insane, the vibrational energy and residual trauma left here and from what? I didn’t know yet. Messages began to flood in from the other side and taylor’s quick thinking kicked in and she started to do my writing for me. Dozens of signs and messages being scribbled down form my visions. Once we arrived into the main town something very odd started happening, It felt like something was crushing my vocal cords, leaving me nearly speechless and with what felt like a spontaneous case of laryngitis. I won’t lie when I say I grew nervous, I was being warned and something was trying to send a message of discouragement - it didn’t want me here.
When we began our initial sweep of the mansion, I immediately recognized the space, this was the place my grandmother came to me in a dream about, the red clay she showed me continuously in my dream was brick dust, which I later came to realize was her symbol of protection, it was signaling to protect myself from the entity down there and she showed me all of the dirt and emphasis on this being the space that fuels the energy in this place. It wasn’t too soon before I picked up on a particularly malevolent male spirit in the basement. This entity seemed to enjoy shapeshifting, using its form to intimidate women. The energy was dark, oppressive, and undeniably threatening. As we moved upstairs, I felt the presence of children spirits and another male entity lingering on the top floor what I would later refer to as the tall man, very slender very tall with a ring leader type look, tall hat long black coat/fancy jacket.
Our investigation started in the basement, and it was here that I was overcome with uncontrollable crying. TRIGGER WARNING: The energy in this space was harrowing. I was struck with visions and sensations of sexual assault, a woman being brutally attacked and murdered. I could taste blood and dirt in my mouth—a horrifying reminder of the trauma etched into those walls. Beautiful young disabled woman with red hair and a sweet unknowing and trusting demeanor. Her death brought me to my knees, angered me and I grew deeply resentful and protective of the female spirits against this disgusting male entity. Amidst this darkness, I also connected with the spirit of an enslaved individual, someone maternal and fiercely protective, whose presence brought a fleeting sense of comfort in such an oppressive space.
Later, in the print shop, we gathered again, trying to make contact with a spirit named "Thomas." Despite our efforts, Thomas remained unresponsive. Then, out of nowhere, I received the words "music" and "hymns" in my mind. I suggested it to the group, and Emily's mother mentioned the song "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." In perfect synchronicity, that was the exact song I had in mind. We began to sing together, and as our voices grew louder and more unified, the equipment lit up brilliantly. The cat balls glowed brighter and brighter, and the room became charged with a deeply spiritual energy. It was one of the most beautiful and emotional moments I've ever experienced during an investigation.
When we moved to the second and third floors for an Estes Method session, things took an even more surreal turn. While conducting a double Estes session, our teammate Emily heard my voice cry for help over her headset. Alarmed, they walkie-talkied to check on me. At the same time, I was actively reporting the male entity from upstairs stalking and trying to intimidate me. It became clear that the male entity upstairs was in cohorts with the one from the basement.
In another group using a spirit box nearby, a chilling voice came through their headphones: "Who's Morgan? They want to speak with Morgan." The specificity of the message sent shivers down our spines.
However, the story doesn't end there. After we left the mansion, I was afflicted by the darker male entity for weeks. It nearly stopped my investigating journey before it had truly begun. After some reflection, I realized this entity had recognized that I was onto something—the basement held dark, unspeakable secrets. I believe there are bodies hidden in that space, evidence of the heinous acts committed there. The entity wanted to silence me, to stop me from uncovering the truth.
This investigation at the Samuel Miller Mansion was equal parts harrowing and awe-inspiring. It was a reminder of both the darkness and light that linger in these historic spaces, and of the importance of giving a voice to the spirits who still reside there. For those brave enough to step into its halls, the Samuel Miller Mansion has stories to tell—stories that demand to be heard.
