Mar. 20, 2021

The Second Floor

I hated the second floor of the old Civil War hospital I used to work in. In order to get to nursing station II, you had to walk through the second floor sitting room whichI found suffocating and creepy.

My first night on the second floor, I went to check on a patient who was ringing the call bell. I remember walking in and seeing his roommate’s bed against a doorway that led to a closet. You could clearly see the shelves in the closet room lined with bed sheets and towels so I knew it was a linen closet. I thought that an odd place to put a bed; against the entrance into another room.

The following morning while making rounds with the on-coming nurse, the closet was gone! There was nothing there but a wall behind that man’s bed. I rechecked the room before his and after to be sure I had the right room.

What are you looking for?” the on-coming nurse asked.

There was a closet door behind him when I was in here last night,” I explained.

No,” she said laughing. “There’s a closet on the other side of that wall, but the door to it is around the corner, down the other hallway.”

I went around the corner, down the hallway and opened the door she directed me to. It was the same closet room I had seen behind the patient’s bed. That second floor was just horrible.

The patient’s rooms that lined the wall of the sitting area were the worst for me. I frequently had the feeling I would walk in and find something “non-living” wandering around in there. Especially when the call light to one specific room would ring off the hook and the two people in there were semi-comatose. Someone was ringing the light and it wasn’t them.

We had to keep the call station at the nurses desk off almost all the time and just watch for it to light up whenever a patient called us. It was the first room on the right as you entered the floor that was always ringing. The electrician(s) could find no reasonable cause for it to buzz again whenever we shut it off.

One afternoon, I had taken my 10-year old daughter by the facility so she could see where I worked. I was asked to go upstairs to initial some things I had missed the previous night. She, following behind me, reached out and grabbed me as we walked through the sitting room on the second floor. I said nothing.

As we were getting ready to leave, she asked if there was another way to go downstairs other than having to go through “that room.” My daughter indicated the lobby area that I found suffocating. She explained to my co-worker that she thought it was full of ghosts.

You can take the back hall,” my fellow nurse said. “But I have to tell you, it’s really haunted. When it rains, you can see so many spirits pacing in the hallway downstairs.”

It isn’t raining,” my daughter deemed. “We’ll go that way. C’mon, Mom,” she insisted dragging me toward the back staircase.

It turned out, it was worse than the front stairway. I had never told my daughter about any of the hauntings so it wasn’t like she was feeding off my emotions. I didn’t know what to think of it myself so I didn’t talk about it even with my husband. My daughter had no way of knowing.

I had a frightening incident that occurred a couple of weeks before I left there for good. I was sitting in the sitting area taking a lunch break when all of a sudden, a wheel chair left behind by one of the CNA’s, did a complete circle before rolling itself down the hallway. It made jerking motions as if someone were sitting in it and manipulating the wheels.

I took a moment to collect myself before ordering the spirit. “Bring that back. It’s not yours!”

Just as suddenly as it began to roll, it stopped right in the middle of the hallway.

Years later, the facility closed for good. The owners rebuilt a new nursing home several blocks from there, but I’ve yet to go back… to the old, or the new facility.

(photo is random)