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Huntington, Oregon Ghost Tales | |
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Huntington Oregon is full of History, one piece that is not openly talked about is the Japanese and Chinese slaves that were brought over to build the Rail road that runs through Huntington Oregon. It is rumor that many of the slaves built tunnel beneath Huntington that still exist today. These tunnels were used to grow Opium, house slaves, and store what is said to be a small fortune in gold that to this day remains undiscovered. I am sure that you can access these tunnels through the basements of the Stream Liner Restraunt as well as Pauls Pub which are located on Main Street. I believe some of them have been concreted closed. It is said that many of these slaves where killed and left in the tunnels.
Submitted by Haunted
Growing up in Huntington Oregon gave me my first and scariest experience with haunted spirits. It was in 1995, my best friend lived on the corner of Monroe St E and 2nd St E in Huntington in a 2 story green house. The front of the house looked evil like in the Amityville Horror. The sheer terror started for me
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and my friend on Mothers Day 1995, his parents were out of town on business at the time. As night approached his parents called and told him that he needed to clean up the spare room which was located on the second floor of the house because family was coming to town. Both me and him went upstairs to get the room in order. After getting to the top
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of the stairs he entered the room and I stood in the door way, as I stood there I heard paper being torn up in his parents room which was adjacent to the spare room. At first I did not think nothing of it as his parents had poodles that were always getting into things. Less then a minute later of peering my head into his parents’ room something breathed on the back of my neck with a warm breath, I quickly turned around thinking it was my friend goofing around; however, he was still in the spare room. I instantly felt sheer terror throughout my body, I told him in a scared voice that something just breathed on my neck as I skipped down 2 flights of stairs, heading for the front door. As I neared the front door a clock radio that was on top of the refrigerator came on and started playing oldies, ''it was not plugged in''. By the time I cleared the front door I was in tears. About 30 seconds later my friend ran out of the front door out of breath saying something had also just breathed on his neck. As we stood on the street we watched as the spare
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room light flickered on and off. As if that were not enough my friends room lights which was also upstairs came on and then were turned off, also in my friends room he owned one of those old school TV that you had to pull the knob to turn it on and turn the dial to change. The channel, it also came on and off several times. Me and my friend went to his sister which lived close by who had been by earlier in the day to leave flowers for her mother on the kitchen table. After telling our story to his sister she accompanied us back to the house. To all of our utter disbelief the flowers that had just been delivered hours prior lay dead and wilted on the kitchen table. Once my friend’s parents returned we also told them of what had happened. My friend’s mother and father did not want to even consider that something like that had happened; however, that changed as months followed. A few months later his mother was sitting down stairs in the front room in her recliner when she heard paper being torn up behind he. Of course her first reaction was that the poodles were tearing up paper, but as she turned around she was able to see that the poodles were no where in sight. Then her husbands brief case on the other side of the front room lifted up vertical about 6 foot, levitated about 3 foot, and then came crashing down on the floor. ''His mother believed us after that''. Approximately a month after that I was staying the night and went into the kitchen in the middle of the night for a drink of water, I will never forget the figure that stood on the stairs, it was dark with red eyes. I scurried back to the front room where me and my friend had set up camp for the night. As time progressed and I did some local research of the house, I found that supposedly a death, suicide, or murder had taken place in the house long ago. Also I had found that the house had been used as a local brothel where the women had been badly treated. I am quite sure the house is at least 100 years old.
Submitted by Real Believer
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