“It seems every town has their own ‘spooky house at the end of the street.’”

- u/slclgbt on Reddit.

I can’t help but laugh when I think of all the allegedly haunted houses from my childhood. The scariest one in my neighbourhood was a small, old stone house that sat awkwardly behind a sports bar. Its legend transcended any particular schoolyard; every kid within a few kilometers was terrified of it. You see, of all the possible places in the universe, our non-descript east-Ottawa suburb was home to none other than the lord of darkness himself, Satan. Yes, that Satan. Yes, behind a sports bar. Yes, we were genuinely terrified.

Like most cities, the Ottawa-area is full of proverbial Satan’s houses: a screaming ghost in a Barrhaven sewage pipe. A Brockville shed inhabited by Godzilla (yes, that Godzilla). A hobo-monster in the woods of Greenboro. They are the stories that make us laugh now but made us sleep with the lights on as kids. The stories you won’t hear about on the Haunted Walk of Ottawa because they are simply the absurd by-products of the imaginations of children.

But Ottawa is also full of truly unexplainable and creepy stories that will never achieve the fame of the notorious Jail Hostel or Chateau Laurier. They are the stories that adults tell in hushed voices once the kids are in bed: the ghost of a housefire victim worried about the safety of the new occupants in Alta Vista. Footsteps and clocks being changed in an empty heritage building in Britannia. A friendship between a child and the ghost of a suicide victim in Nepean.

Employee of the Century

For over a decade, I worked in a historical building in Ottawa’s Glebe neighbourhood. Not long after starting the job, I heard mention of “the ghost.” Curious to learn more, I was told nonchalantly that the building had a resident ghost, known as George. George had some signature tricks up his sleeve, including whispering a person’s name when they were alone in a particular room in the basement. 

My love of the paranormal is accompanied by a healthy dose of skepticism so I didn’t think too much of it. On the mornings when people found their belongings rearranged in strange and precarious ways, for instance, I was dismissive of the general consensus that George was to blame. And so it came as a surprise when I was in the basement one day and turned to see who had just clearly whispered my name, only to find myself alone. It was somewhat less surprising the next time it happened. Eventually, it didn’t surprise me at all, though it was infrequent enough that it never lost its thrill.

One day, we had an unexpected visit from a local hobbyist-historian who told us about the building’s past, including the former business owner who had committed suicide a very long time ago. In the basement.

Over time, I found myself nonchalantly telling newer employees about George, reassuring them that there was no malice in the invisible but audible presence. Seven years in, whatever sliver of skepticism remained in me swiftly disappeared when, on one of their first days, a confused new employee said, “I was just in the basement, and I swore someone whispered my name in my ear, but no one was there.”

Capital City Creepers

Ottawa has a rich history and the ghost stories that come with one. They are a part of our economy and culture and have rightfully garnered international attention.

But don’t forget about the ones you haven’t heard yet, for they are lurking around every corner and hiding in every shadow. You can read the spooky stories of some unassuming Ottawa buildings on Housecreep.com. Maybe you even have your own to share.

As for Satan’s house, it was eventually demolished. I have no idea where he’s living now, so keep your eyes (and ears) open.

Annabelle

Having spent an eternity in Ottawa, Annabelle knows that behind the city’s calm and unassuming guise lies a veritable playground for countless ghosts and ghouls. With her own brushes with the supernatural and a morbid curiosity of Ottawa's occult occupants and paranormal past, Annabelle delights in sharing its haunting history with others.