The Haunted House on Cherry Street

Note: the current residents of this house have asked that I not use their real names in the following article. They have also asked that I not reveal the address of the house.

It’s a lovely house – really it is. Built in 1910, the 12 room house occupies a spacious lot on Cherry Street. A crumbling carriage house (this isn’t a pretention – in its day, the building housed actual carriages) sits at the back of the property. Inside the house, the high ceilings and ornate woodwork suggest an elegance and solidness missing in modern houses.

Like I said, it’s a lovely house; it’s also haunted – really it is.

It was a warm fall day in early October when I first went to see Tina and her mom, Delores. I rang the doorbell and heard a mechanical ringing from deep within the house, which was immediately followed by the sound of barking dogs. (I soon learned that the doorbell, like other things in the house, dated to the construction of the house but still continues to work reliably.) Tina opened the door briskly, shooed her three dogs away and led me into the living room. After a few minutes of small talk, Delores joined us.

Tina and Delores have lived in the house since 1991. Up to then, the house had only been in the hands of one other family, the Berrys, and perhaps it’s best to start with them.

The Berry Family

Berry family patriarch Arthur “A.J.” Berry as he appeared in the “Who’s Who in Marion” piece that ran in March of 1925 in The Marion Daily Star. Image courtesy of the Marion County Historical Society.

Born in Marion in 1876, Arthur “A.J.” Berry spent his entire life living and working in Marion. After graduating from Marion High School, he worked as a reporter for The Marion Star (owned, at the time, by Warren G. Harding). Later, he managed the Marion County Telephone Company and, later still, served as vice president at the National City Bank and Trust Company. Perhaps it’s no accident that all of these companies had deep ties with Marion because Arthur Berry was also deeply civic-minded. Among other things, he organized the Marion Chamber of Commerce in 1919 and served as secretary of the building committee during the construction of the Harding Hotel in 1924. In 1918, at the relatively late age of 42, Arthur married Alma Reading, a woman 20 years his junior, and they settled into Arthur’s grand house on Cherry Street. In 1921 Alma gave birth to their only child, a daughter they named Joan.

Whereas Joan’s father appears to have spent his entire life happily living in Marion, Joan, it seems, couldn’t wait to get out. An aspiring actress, she left town for Missouri to study at Stephens College, which, even today, is considered one of the best schools for theater in the country. She later came back to Ohio to study at The Play House, a theater in Cleveland. During World War II she served as a Red Cross volunteer in Jacksonville, Florida, and married a service man named Kennedy. They had two children together, a son and a daughter. The details of what Joan did in the years after the war are scarce, though the public record shows that she and Mr. Kennedy divorced and Joan married another man, a fellow by the name of van Atta, and they eventually had a son together. However, Joan and Mr. van Atta also divorced. By 1969 Joan was once again living in the Berry home on Cherry Street (Arthur Berry died in 1961) with her third husband, a man named Kayatin. They, too, eventually divorced.

If the facts of Joan’s life suggest a bit of personal turbulence, the stories related by Tina and Delores only confirm it. For starters, Joan had a serious drinking problem. According to Delores (who was an acquaintance Joan’s daughter), she remembered seeing Joan staggering around uptown from time to time – sometimes in nothing more than her slip. On those occasions when Joan wasn’t up to leaving her house, she had alcohol delivered to her via taxi.1

And so Joan seems to have spent her later years with her dogs – Dobermans which were, to quote Tina, both “huge and mean” – for company. Though she gave occasional piano lessons, Joan appeared to be well-off enough financially to be more or less a woman of
leisure.2 However, Joan’s health began to fail in the ‘80s, and she died in 1989 of cardio respiratory failure in the house in which she had grown up. Tina told me that when the paramedics arrived, they hard time getting into the house because of the viciousness of Joan’s dogs. (The dogs were eventually euthanized.)

Jan van Atta, Joan’s son, inherited the Cherry Street house, and he eventually sold it to Tina’s parents in 1991.

The New Owners

By the time Tina’s father, Russell, saw the house, it was already starting to decline. However, Russell could still see the possibility for grandeur that the house possessed and bought it with plans to fix it up into the family’s dream home. Unfortunately, Russell, who was a long-distance trucker, died in 1993 while on the road, thus leaving the house to Delores and Tina. In the twenty years they’ve lived there, their awareness that strange things are sometimes afoot in the house has been gradual, though both women have experienced enough weird activity to be convinced that the house is indeed haunted.

As I sat with Tina and Delores that October afternoon, they recounted some of the strange incidents that had happened in the house over the years.

Some of the incidents Tina and Delores described are odd but essentially harmless: Pictures routinely fall from the walls. Once a whole series of photos fell off in the order in which they were hung. Another time the upper pictures fell off the wall while the lower ones remained hanging. Cupboards sometimes open by themselves. Occasionally, they hear enormous crashes only to find that nothing has fallen.

A photo Tina took immediately after the top two pictures mysteriously fell from the wall. Note the undisturbed bottom picture.

Other stories, however, are a little creepier: When her family moved into the house, Tina said there were scratches all over the walls from Joan’s Dobermans. These scratches were perhaps a sign of the role the dogs – both Tina’s and Joan’s – would play in the haunting. Tina said her dogs have been afraid to enter some parts of the house. The dogs’ toys have disappeared only to reappear after a good stretch of time. One of the strangest incidents happened during the summer of ’91. Tina, who was 14 at the time, said she was lying on her parents’ bed talking on the phone with her feet were dangling off of the edge of the bed. Suddenly, she felt something animal-like run by her legs, and this was accompanied by the sound of jangling chains. It was an experience that was still vivid in her memory when, months later, she and some friends were exploring some of the rooms in the house’s large basement and came across some chains hanging on the wall. They were choker chains that had belonged to Joan’s Dobermans. When one of Tina’s friends lifted a chain off of the wall, Tina immediately recognized the sound that she had heard while lying on her parents’ bed that night.

The hand print that appeared on the inside of the window one night.

Tina also talked about the time she woke up one night to use the bathroom and, on her way back to bed, saw a very large hand print on a fogged-up window. Tina thought at first that perhaps someone outside had placed his or her hand on the outside of the window to make the print. However, the window was double-paned and, in any case, upon closer examination, she realized the hand print was on the inside of the window. She said she immediately “freaked out” and woke her sleeping mother up. Tina said that the thought did cross her mind that maybe her mom had done it to scare her. Delores, however, denied that it was hers, and Tina was quick to tell me that her mom has never intentionally scared her.

In another incident, Delores related how she and her granddaughter once saw small footprints, side by side, on the floor of the bathroom. The prints, Delores assured me, were human-shaped and not from one of the dogs. In fact, the bathroom seems to be an ‘active’ part of the house. Tina said that both she and her niece have, while taking showers, seen shadows moving across the surface of the shower curtain as if someone is in the bathroom with them. However, every time they looked out from behind the curtain to see who was there, the bathroom was empty. Tina told me that one time, after one of these incidents had occurred, she was standing in the shower trying to calm down when there was a distinct smack on the shower curtain right near her face.

Outside of Delores and Tina’s family, other people have also had unsettling experiences in the house. Tina said that one time her friend Heather was over and they were up late talking. There was a TV in the room, but it was turned off. Tina had her back to the TV, but Heather was facing it. Suddenly, Heather’s eyes welled up with tears for no discernible reason – Tina pointed out that Heather was not prone to crying – and she seemed to slip into a trance. When the spell was finally broken, Heather said that she had seen a man reflected in the dark TV screen. Tina said that she thought perhaps it was her deceased father, Russell. Scared and upset, the girls spent the night dozing together on the couch. Many other friends and relatives have also visited the home and, unprompted, said that they feel very uneasy there, as if someone is on their heels when they walk from room to room. Some family members even refuse to go to the second and third floors alone and at night.

Although they believe other spirits dwell in their house, both Tina and Delores agree that Joan (and perhaps her dogs) are at the heart of the haunting. For her part, Delores said that she’s never felt threatened. In fact, whenever weird incidents are happening, she just says, “Now Joan, behave.” A paranormal investigation carried out by the now-defunct group Eerie Paranormal in 2011 concluded that the spirit (or spirits) have a certain affinity for Delores (though for reasons that remain unknown). Tina, on the other hand, feels more threatened, perhaps because she’s had more negative experiences in the house over the years.

What the Future Holds

When I asked Tina and Delores whether they ever considered moving out of the house, they both grew quiet, which was odd considering how chatty they had been up to this point. Tina later told me in an e-mail that, “We really don’t like to discuss plans for moving out [while] inside the house. I know it sounds silly, believe me.” In fact they have decided to use code words when talking about finding a new place to live. It turns out that both of them wouldn’t mind moving out of the house, but whenever they have discussed leaving, “Something here interferes with our health. I have survived three bouts of respiratory failure and been hospitalized for it many times, the last time being the worst. My mom has been in similar situations, too. [This has happened] too many times not to be suspicious!” In fact, both Tina and Delores once ended up in ICU with respiratory failure at the same time. Hospital staff informed them that this was the first time they had seen members of the same family in the hospital with this affliction. (Normally, respiratory failure is the result of something unpredictable like a car wreck or a fire!)

The thought of selling the place – a place that is probably too big and hard to take care of for just two people with compromised health – is often on their minds, and that’s part of the reason they have asked me not to reveal the exact address of the house. After all, trying to sell a house these days (let alone a haunted one) is hard enough.

_____

1 While leaving, Tina pointed out the light switches installed on the baseboard next to the front door. It turns out that Joan had them installed so that if she came home too drunk to stand, she could simply turn on the lights from down there as she crawled over the threshold.

2 Joan often hid money in books but then forget which ones, exactly. As a result, she would sometimes pay kids in the neighborhood to come over and look through her books for the money.

Odds and Ends III: The Limburger Cheese Creature

Illustration courtesy of Scott Lawhun

Here are a few more odds and ends culled from news reports mentioning Marion:

The Limburger Cheese Creature

On May 22nd, 1977, The Lima News ran a front page article about sightings of unusual creatures around Ohio, and the following paragraph caught our attention:

In July 1972, a man in Marion County told authorities he saw a seven-foot tall creature smelling of Limburger cheese running along a road.

No articles about big, smelly creatures roaming Marion County appeared in The Marion Star during July of ’72, however. The identity of the man making the report as well as the creature he supposedly saw remain a mystery.

The Moving Grave in Waldo Village Cemetery

The headline from the October 12th, 1978, edition of The Marion Star.
The headline from the October 12th, 1978, edition of The Marion Star.

Before Perry Weiser died in January of 1978, he assumed he would be joining other family members in the Waldo Village Cemetery where his grandparents had purchased a lot in 1912. However, the Waldo Township Trustees decided, shortly after Mr. Weiser’s death, that there was not sufficient room for him in the family plot, and Mr. Weiser was buried in another part of the cemetery. In response, the executor of Weiser’s estate filed a writ of mandamus with the Marion Common Pleas Court asking that Mr. Weiser be disinterred and reburied with the rest of his family. After a two-month legal battle, “the Waldo Township Trustees were ordered to excavate the Weiser family gravesite to see if there was enough room for an extra casket.” Apparently there was enough room since Mr. Weiser now rests, undisturbed, with other family members.

Marion Man Calls Father after being Found Dead

On July 16th, 1932,  the following story appeared in the Hamilton Evening Journal in Hamilton, Ohio, and concerned a Marion man who had apparently been found floating dead in the East River in New York City:

Cards bearing the name of Richard A. Scott of 226 South Vine Street, Marion, 0. were, found on the body of a man taken from the East River here yesterday. Dressed in a brown sweater, leather wind-breaker and blue overalls, he was about 35 years old, five feet eight inches tall and weighed 160 pounds.

The man pulled from the river was not Mr. Scott, however. In fact, the following article appeared in Steubenville’s The Herald Star on the same day:

The body found in the East River at New York is not that of Robert A. Scott, 26, of Marion. Young Scott telephoned his father from New York city today. Papers belonging to Scott, were found on the body.

Besides the obvious discrepancy about Mr. Scott’s first name, these articles are puzzling in a few other ways. For example, the reason Mr. Scott’s papers were in the possession of a dead man was never explained. It’s also unclear whether the Scott family thought that their boy was dead before he called his father in Marion. In any case, it must have been an interesting conversation when Mr. Scott did finally call home.

Marion Makes Ripley’s Believe it or Not! (Again)

The Land Mark Home just after the turn of the century with members of the Brewer family standing in front of it. Photo courtesy of Ray Kitzel.

Most people know that the Merchant Ball was once featured in Mr. Ripley’s famous newspaper series. However, it was another local oddity, one that occurred at the Land Mark Home just north of Marion, that also caught Mr. Ripley’s attention. The home belonged to the Brewer family and once stood on Route 423 just north of Chapel Heights Cemetery. Unfortunately the house burned down in 1907, and that’s where the story gets a little odd:

When this grand house with its spiral stairway burnt to the ground…every stick of wood in the structure was consumed except the wood stacked in the fireplace!

Anyone interested in reading the original article about the Brewer Family and the Land Mark Home can download or view it here. Although we have a date for this article, March 2nd, 1975, we don’t have the name of the publication in which is appeared.