Acknowledgments

Preface

Haunted Institutions

• Ohio State Reformatory (Mansfield)
• Gore Orphanage (Vermilion)
• The Collingwood Arts Center (Toledo)
• Sedamsville Rectory (Cincinnati)
• Lake Erie College (Painsville)
• Licking County Historic Jail (Newark)

Haunted Medical Facilities

• The Molly Stark Sanatorium (Louisville)
• The Willoughby Medical Center (Willoughby)
• The Ridges (Athens)

Haunted Hotels & Historic Businesses

• Buxton Inn (Granville)
• The Lafayette Hotel (Marietta)
• Park Hotel (Put-in-Bay)
• Punderson Manor (Newbury Township)
• The Golden Lamb (Lebanon)
• The Akron Civic Theater (Akron)

Haunted Houses & Mansions

• Franklin Castle (Cleveland)
• Ceely Rose House, Malabar Farm State Park (Lucas)
• Stetson House (Waynesville)
• The Kelton House Museum (Columbus)
• Prospect Place (Trinway)

Haunted Outdoor Spaces

• Moonville Tunnel (McArthur)
• Collinwood School Fire (Collinwood)
• Frankenstein’s Castle (Kettering)
• Spring House Gazebo in Eden Park (Cincinnati)

Bibliography

About Jessica Freeburg

About Natalie Fowler

Gore Orphanage
Vermilion

Fall 2023

Trees formed a wall along the left side of the road, blurring past the driver’s side window. Their leaves had long since fallen to the forest floor, blanketing the patches of vegetation beneath. To the right, an open field sat empty. The yellowing grass gave the land a barren appearance.

Alex kept his eyes on the road, swerving now and then to avoid potholes. The sun dropped steadily toward the horizon, casting a golden glow across the sky.

“It is very pretty out here,” Cara said from the passenger seat.

“Pretty creepy,” Elizabeth replied, leaning over Thomas’s shoulder to peer into the forest. She didn’t expect to see a ghost child staring back at her. She knew the others wanted to see signs of the paranormal, but she secretly hoped they wouldn’t. She wasn’t as into ghosts as her friends were—but she was fascinated by the history.

In 1865, Nicholas Wilber purchased an ornate mansion on Gore Road that had been built by Joseph Swift. The mansion went up for sale after Joseph tragically lost two of his children and made a bad railroad investment. A known spiritualist, Nicholas was rumored to have regularly made contact with the Swift children, who had died in the home, during seances.

In 1902, religious zealot Reverend Johann Sprunger and his wife, Katharina, built the Light of Hope Orphanage on the property. They chose not to use the abandoned mansion, which had fallen into disrepair.

As many as 120 children at a time were housed at the self-sufficient farm, many of whom escaped over the years. These runaways reported deplorable conditions, including rat-infested rooms, lice, beatings, and neglect.

The Sprungers were investigated for abuse in 1909. Even though they admitted to the allegations, they were allowed to continue running the orphanage. Two years later, Reverend Sprunger died, and in 1916, the orphanage was permanently closed due to financial troubles.

Alex slowed the car as he drove over the Vermilion River bridge. The four friends noticed the graffiti-covered beams as they rolled past.

Shadows thickened in the woodland beside them, and it wasn’t long before they found a crumbling sandstone pillar that was also covered in graffiti. The pillar was all that remained of an elaborate entrance to the old property. Alex parked on the side of the road.

“We have enough time to grab some footage before it gets too dark,” Cara said.

The teens had gotten permission to do a project for their history class. Cara had aspirations of going into film production after high school, so she’d convinced the group to create a short documentary about the local legend.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and joined the others, clutching her notebook. She had some research to share on film; it gave her something to focus on other than ghosts.

“How many buildings are we looking for?” asked Alex, leading the others through the brush, down what used to be a road.

Thomas walked behind them, filming the trio as they walked.

“There were five buildings,” said Elizabeth. “The whole Swift Hollow area is about 543 acres, and the Swift mansion was a large Greek Revival-style house. The Light of Hope Orphanage was composed of four farm buildings. The boys lived at what was called the Hughes farm, and the girls lived at the Howard farm.”

“They didn’t use the mansion?” asked Cara. “That’s strange.” She stepped over a tree branch that blocked the faint remnants of the path they followed.

“The staff might have used the mansion but not the kids or the Sprungers,” Elizabeth replied. “It was already rumored to be haunted, even back then. They probably didn’t want anything to do with it.”

The sun dipped farther below the horizon. Elizabeth swallowed a lump in her throat as she realized they’d be walking back to the car in darkness. She returned her focus to the notebook, embracing the momentary distraction of her research.

“Get this,” said Elizabeth. “When the Sprungers arrived from Indiana, they brought their dead daughter with them.”

“What?” asked Alex.

“Yeah, their daughter, Hillegonda, died at age 7 in Indiana. When they moved here, they brought her body with them and reburied it.”

“That’s creepy,” said Cara. “Do you think we can find her grave?”

“No,” said Elizabeth, “because it gets even weirder. The orphanage closed in July of 1916. Most of the orphaned children were sent to live in the community or were returned to relatives. But Mrs. Sprunger took a few of them—and her dead daughter—back to Indiana.”

As they continued walking, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, toward the trees that lined the path. A small ball of light bounced behind a tree trunk. She stopped, and so did Thomas.

“Did you see that?” Thomas whispered, stepping closer to Elizabeth. He turned his camera toward the light, which was no longer there.

“Probably just a firefly,” Elizabeth reasoned.

The pair watched the tree line for a moment. When the light didn’t reappear, they hustled to catch up with the others.

They came upon what remained of the Swift Mansion: a water-logged hole where the house once stood, surrounded by foundation blocks.

Thomas moved around the group, filming everyone and shooting the ruins from different angles.

Elizabeth read from her notes: “The Sprungers moved here because the orphanage they ran in Berne, Indiana, also called the Light of Hope Orphanage, was suspiciously destroyed in a horrific fire. Three girls died in that fire. Fortunately, the fire that destroyed the Swift mansion occurred while it was empty.”

Another ball of light slipped through the shadows of the tree line.

Cara gasped. “I just saw an orb.”

“I saw it too,” Elizabeth added. “And I saw one earlier.”

Everyone stood still, watching, listening. Thomas panned the camera slowly, hoping to catch something on film.

A ball of light flashed behind him.

“There it is again!” Elizabeth cried.

Thomas spun with the camera but once again missed capturing the anomaly.

The hair on the back of Elizabeth’s neck stood as she held her breath, watching for more strange orbs, her senses on overdrive. She only heard the dull buzz of highway traffic in the distance... until a faint scream broke the eerie silence.

The four exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Another scream, a little closer, caused all of them to break into a run back down the path toward the car. Twilight pulled the afternoon into evening, as the teens burst through the tree line and dashed to the vehicle.

As Elizabeth rushed around the back of the car, she saw several small handprints, like those of children, along the bumper.

She jumped into the backseat, too frightened to speak. The doors slammed shut, and Alex sped toward the bridge.

When they were back in town, parked in front of Cara’s house, Elizabeth mentioned the handprints. They looked for any sign of them, but the bumper was covered in dust from the gravel road. If there had been any, they were no longer visible.

Could the spirits of abused children be wandering the place they were once forced to call home? The conditions they suffered through were deplorable. It was reported that they were forced to eat food most people wouldn’t dream of, such as corn that was cooked in the same pot used to boil their dirty underwear. With rats crawling into the children’s beds and biting them, even sleep couldn’t offer a reprieve from their misery.

It’s no wonder the land remains haunted more than 100 years after the institution shut down. Given the interest in this dark period of Ohio’s history, ghostly sightings could continue for generations to come.

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