I finally did it.
Everywhere I go people ask me about the supposed haunting of The Lucerne Inn. I had never heard any specifics as to what makes it haunted, or heard any first hand experiences from people who had stayed there or worked there. Just that it was haunted. After all, it’s an old building in an old state, right? Sometimes that’s all people need to hear in order to deem a place as ‘haunted.’
So, I packed up my bags, camera and husband and off I went to see this for myself. I also decided to fly into this blind with no real knowledge of the place….
We arrived at the Inn around 7pm, checked in and carried our bags up to our room. The first thing we noticed when we opened the door was the piano music. We looked at each other both thinking the same thing…thin walls, loud neighbors. Great. We were on the end of the hall so we only had one neighbor, of course they would be loud. We decided to head to the lobby and see what the lounge was like, maybe get something to eat and wait for the neighbors next to us to settle down.
A few hours later we returned to our room. The piano music was gone and we decided to go to bed early so we could make the most out of the next day. I began to snap a few pictures of the room and hallway only to have my camera battery die. I can distinctly remember taking the battery out of the wall charger and putting it in my camera moments before leaving my house. Regardless, I switched out the battery, took a few pictures, and THIS battery died. Annoying. I decided to just use my phone to take the pictures, it’s not like I was going for any award winning photos or anything.
We settled in only to hear the piano music kick back into high gear; and when I say piano music, I mean something that would play in an old western saloon. We’re not talking about soothing classical music here. We decided after listening to this for quite some time that it wasn’t the neighbors. In fact, we couldn’t tell where the music was coming from. It was just THERE. We were pressing our ears against the one wall that had a neighbor behind it, stuck our heads in the fireplace, opened the windows for a closer listen. The piano never changed in volume. We decided there was likely a piano in the lobby that we somehow missed. Back downstairs we went figuring, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
No piano.
As a matter of fact, as soon as we left the room, we couldn’t hear ANY piano. We went back up to the room and this time it was quiet. We settled back in to go to bed and we heard pacing coming from above us. At least, we thought it was coming from above, since we were on the end. Again, it was hard to figure out where certain noises were coming from, but it had to be from above since the end was not an option. Someone was clearly angry by the sound of the stomping that was happening. They were walking from the far window to the door and back again, over and over. I rolled my eyes at this wondering how people could be so inconsiderate. During their elephant-like journey back and forth they even stopped a few times to slam something that I guessed was either their luggage or a damn body onto the floor. I couldn’t imagine what had angered them so much but hopefully they got over it soon. It was nearing midnight and I hate to be the complainer. I really wanted to wait this out.
Eventually the footsteps slowed and the banging got a little less. As tired as I was I couldn’t seem to fall asleep. The stomping and slamming had stopped, the piano music had stopped. It was quiet, but I was restless all night. Somewhere between two and three a.m. I was able to nod off, my husband already sound asleep next to me. I had just begun to sleep and SLAM came from above us again, so loud this time that the table lamps and the bed shook. I bolted up out of bed realizing we were not going to get any sleep. The loud stomping back and forth started up again, complete with a squeaky floor board. I remember thinking “they have a squeaky board in the same spot as us.’ (Don’t roll your eyes at me, I was tired, annoyed and at my wits end.) My husband, who can sleep thru anything was even awake and annoyed. It died down after only a few minutes and I tried to go back to sleep again, but lo’ and behold, as soon as I started to drift off again, another SLAM strong enough to shake the furniture started up another stomping session.
I was really trying to hold it together. I went downstairs and outside to get some air and to cool off. Maybe I would even complain at the front desk on my way in. I decided not to do this for reasons even I can’t explain. I only smiled and waved at the man at the desk and went back to my room. My quiet room. What a relief. I laid down next to my already sleeping husband, staying awake for a few minutes just in case I was about to be jolted out of a doze again. I began to drift off, and you guessed it, SLAM. The stomping commenced, table lamps were shaking and even the guests next to us were grumbling thru the wall, likely thinking it was us making the racket.
My husband sighed and said to me, “You know, it was absolutely quiet as soon as you left the room. Within minutes of you coming back, it started right in again.” Just my luck.
I had had it. I picked up the phone to call the front desk. Nothing. No dial tone, no nothing. Just dead air. I hung up, read the directions again on how to reach the desk, tried again. Nothing. I checked the plug, did all of the things you see people do with the old style hotel telephones, read the directions AGAIN and tried again. This time it rang and rang and rang and RANG. I JUST saw someone sitting at the desk on my way back up. So I waited and listened to the stomping go back and forth, complete with the creaky floor board. I tried again. No one was answering the phone.
Finally I yelled, SHUT THE HELL UP! (not my finest hour) and it died down enough so we could get some dozing in. Not sleep, just dozing. At seven in the morning we packed up. We needed sleep and we were hoping to get a different room for the next night. The man at the counter was very nice about it. We asked if there were any other rooms available. When he asked what the issue was we told him the people above us were so damn loud we never got to sleep or enjoy our room. First it was music, than it was stomping and slamming. He apologized for the terrible first night and asked us what room we were in. When we told him we were in room 8 his whole body cinched up. He didn’t say another word to us. He simply took our key and replaced it with a new room key.
Later in the day my stupid head began to really think about things after I was able to get a couple hours of sleep. How is it that the noises were so loud and intrusive yet it was impossible to know which direction it was coming from? How is it that whoever was pacing so heavily had a squeaky board in their room, in the same location as in our room (at the right hand corner of the bed just before the bathroom)? And WHY did it all go away when I left the room? One other small detail-whenever I was in the room, I would always become incredibly grouchy and easily irritated. I blamed this on the circumstances and being overtired even though I would be perfectly fine shortly after leaving the room. I didn’t understand any of this.
That night we were sitting in our new room, on the opposite end of the Inn as our old room and I began to finally read about this place. I read some history articles, visited the Inn’s own section on its history and even saw some articles on Haunted Maine Locations that featured the Inn on its list. Still no real details as to what makes it so haunted. After we returned home I did a little more digging and found similar people have heard piano music coming from the supposed haunted room and also what people described as “an altercation” or “banging noises.” (You’ve got to be kidding me.) Some even compared the banging to a gunshot.
As the stories go, a man by the name of Nathan Phillips built the Inn in 1812. He built nothing more than a house and a stable to start a farm (some of the original apple trees are still there). When he realized that farming on nothing but rolling hills was a bad idea, (Good God, Nathan. Really??) he began to take in guests as the location was a prime spot for an Inn. This is how he made his real money. In 1814 he joined the buildings together and added more rooms, became known for his illegal booze infused cider and before you knew it, he had a booming business as an Inn Keeper.
This is where we get to the part of the haunting. The most popular story is Nathan found his wife rolling in the sheets with a boarder, lost his ever-loving mind and murdered them both, went back to his own room and killed himself. I’ll give you one guess as to which room his wife and company were murdered in…..I'll wait.
I was never able to find any validity to this story, since all the death records I could find have Nathan and his wife dying three years apart, not the same night. So I have doubts about this tale. I do know that something was happening the night I stayed there that I still have trouble wrapping my head around.
So I’ve shared what my experience was at the Inn and a nutshell version of the history. I’ve tried to explain away the things that happened while we were there and I just can’t do it. I’ll let you be the judge.
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