New River Paranormal

10/22/2025

08/01/2025

The Spirits of Smithfield – Echoes from Virginia’s Frontier Past
Blacksburg, Virginia

Nestled at the edge of Virginia Tech’s campus stands a grand house with whitewashed siding and deep colonial roots. Built in 1774, Smithfield Plantation was home to Colonel William Preston, a Revolutionary War hero and signer of the Fincastle Resolutions. Today, the house is a museum, a well-preserved tribute to early American life. But beneath its patriotic veneer lies something older… something unsettled.

Smithfield is one of Virginia’s oldest plantation homes west of the Blue Ridge Mountains. And according to witnesses, it’s also one of its most haunted.

Layers of History, Layers of Death

Smithfield was more than a home; it was a political headquarters, a farm, and a place of enslavement. The Preston family owned dozens of enslaved individuals whose lives and names have mostly been lost to time. Disease and hardship were common. In the 1833 cholera outbreak, several people, enslaved and free, died within days. Family letters, archived in the Virginia Historical Society, reference the illness spreading from the kitchen to the slave quarters.

But some believe those deaths were not the end.

Unexplained Phenomena

Volunteers and docents have reported strange occurrences for decades:
• Cold spots near the original hearth and upstairs hallway
• Disembodied voices, often female, are heard when no tours are being conducted
• Shadow figures moving through the dining room, sometimes crossing into walls
• Doors that open and shut on their own, even when latched
• The faint sound of a child crying, though no children are present

One former guide refused to work alone in the house after hearing humming behind her when she was locked inside, prepping for a school tour. No music was playing.

Another staff member described hearing someone say, “Let them sleep,” during a late evening closing shift. She had been alone in the building.

The Enslaved Quarters

Behind the house, the location of the original slave quarters is marked by grass and silence. Paranormal investigators report a different energy there, heavy, mournful, and unwelcoming. One EVP captured by a visiting group in 2021 included the phrase, “We’re still here.”

Historians note that few names of the enslaved people have survived, though records indicate over 200 individuals were held on the estate across two generations. Their stories were buried, but perhaps not their presence.

Why It Still Haunts

Smithfield represents the paradox of early American liberty for some, chains for others. Its walls heard both revolution and suffering. The echoes of that history seem reluctant to fade. Whether you’re drawn to its patriotic past or darker corners, one thing is sure: at Smithfield, history refuses to rest quietly.

The museum welcomes visitors during daylight hours. But no overnight stays are allowed.

Maybe for good reason.

07/31/2025

Whispers Among the Graves – The Haunting of Sunset Cemetery
Christiansburg, Virginia

Tucked along South Franklin Street is Sunset Cemetery, one of the oldest and most storied burial grounds in Montgomery County. Established in the mid-1800s, it is still active today. At first glance, it’s peaceful. Rows of headstones stretch toward the horizon beneath rolling hills and crooked pines.

But once the sun sets, the cemetery lives up to its name in more ways than one.

Locals speak of a Confederate officer in full gray uniform who walks the grounds at dusk. Visitors claim to see him standing by the older graves, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed. When approached, he disappears, sometimes leaving only footprints in the dewy grass. Others report the sound of muffled weeping and soft footsteps on gravel paths… even when they’re alone.

Historical Roots

Sunset Cemetery is the final resting place for generations of Christiansburg families. But the oldest sections contain the graves of dozens of Civil War veterans, most of them Confederate soldiers, many of whom died not on the battlefield, but in military hospitals scattered across the region.

One particular grave draws attention: that of Captain Silas Compton, a Montgomery County native who served with the 54th Virginia Infantry. Wounded at the Battle of Chickamauga in 1863, Compton was brought home but died of infection weeks later. His grave is often the site of reported activity, flickering lights, strange temperature drops, and what some believe is his presence during the twilight hour.

Church records and obituaries from the time describe a town overwhelmed by death. Disease, injury, and displacement were common. In the years following the war, grief and unrest blanketed the region an energy some believe still lingers.

Paranormal Activity

Investigators from nearby Radford and Blacksburg have noted the following during overnight surveys:
• EMF (electromagnetic field) spikes near the Civil War section
• Unexplained orbs of light seen both visually and in camera footage
• Disembodied whispers captured on audio, often unintelligible but always emotional
• A reported “cold zone” near a cluster of children’s graves from the 1870s

One group claimed to hear a man reciting what sounded like a military prayer, but the audio revealed nothing but static.

Another visitor, walking alone after dark, reported hearing someone softly say, “You’re not supposed to be here.” She left immediately.

Cemeteries hold more than bodies; they hold stories: regret, grief, unfinished conversations, and the need to be remembered. Sunset Cemetery is more than a resting place. For some, it’s a place they’ve never truly left.

Sunset closes to the public at dark. But if you’ve ever driven past after nightfall, you may have noticed a light that shouldn’t be there. Or a figure standing just inside the gate, watching. Waiting.

07/31/2025

The Lost Soldier of Brush Mountain
Montgomery County, Virginia

Just northwest of Blacksburg rises Brush Mountain, a rugged stretch of Appalachian wilderness marked by steep slopes, thick forests, and a silence that feels too heavy for a place so alive. But that silence is deceiving because Brush Mountain is hiding something or someone.

Hikers, hunters, and campers have long reported an eerie presence on the trails, not an animal, not a man, but something in between.

It’s known to locals as “The Lost Soldier.”

The first reports came in the early 1900s, passed down through families who lived along the base of the mountain. They told of a Union soldier, wearing a torn blue coat, who appeared near a rock outcrop close to the summit. He never spoke. He never charged. He simply stood, one arm missing, watching, and then he vanished.

The History Behind the Haunting

The story finds its roots in the final years of the Civil War. In 1864, Confederate home guard units patrolled the region around Brush Mountain, which served as a natural barrier along the Virginia & Tennessee Railroad. Union scouts frequently moved through the area, risking capture or worse.

According to family letters preserved in the Montgomery Museum of Art & History, a Union cavalryman named Private Eli Fletcher was believed to have been captured and executed by locals near the mountain after being caught scouting without identification. His body was never officially recovered.

In a letter dated October 1864, a farmer named James Caldwell wrote,
“They found a bluecoat on the ridge. Shot through the chest. Laid him under stones, left him with no prayer.”

No headstone. No records. Just a name and a ridge.

Modern-Day Sightings

To this day, hikers along the fire road trails report strange phenomena near the summit. Compass needles spin. GPS units freeze. Some claim their dogs refuse to continue down certain paths, growling or whining without cause. But most unsettling are the reports of the silent figure, a man in faded Union blue, often seen out of the corner of the eye, always still, always watching.

Several campers in the 1980s documented the figure in journals, describing him as “one-armed,” “bloodied,” and “too quiet to be human.” In 2019, a group of students from Virginia Tech camping near the ridge claimed to see the same figure three nights in a row, each time closer to their tent.

One student later said, “He didn’t make a sound, but I knew we weren’t supposed to be there.”

Residual Energy or Restless Spirit?

Paranormal researchers argue that Brush Mountain holds a kind of liminal energy, a space between worlds, a perfect place for echoes of tragedy to linger. Some believe the soldier is an intelligent haunt, his spirit trapped by the violence of his death and the indignity of being buried without honor. Others say it’s a repeating vision, a trauma imprinted on the land itself.

But whatever it is, one thing is certain: he’s still up there.

And he doesn’t want to be forgotten.

07/29/2025

The Lantern That Never Goes Out – The Haunting of Cambria Depot

📍Christiansburg, Virginia

Along Depot Street in Christiansburg stands one of the oldest railroad stations in Southwest Virginia, Cambria Depot, constructed in 1868. Though its red-brick exterior has been preserved, time has done little to silence the ghost story that has haunted this place for over a century.

They call him the Lantern Man.

He was a brakeman, a vital role in the days of steam rail, responsible for coupling cars, checking brakes, and guiding trains safely through. In the winter of 1902, tragedy struck. While inspecting the undercarriage of a slow-moving freight train, the brakeman slipped. The wheels rolled over him, crushing his chest and severing one arm. He died before help arrived.

His name, oddly enough, was never recorded in public obituaries. The local paper, The Roanoke Times, printed only a single line: “Brakeman Killed in Cambria.” No funeral notice. No family mention. Just a forgotten worker, buried by time.

But according to countless witnesses over the decades, he never truly left.

The Sightings

For nearly a hundred years, railroad workers, local residents, and investigators have described the same strange event: a swinging lantern bobbing along the tracks near the station at night. The light hovers above the rail line, moving steadily as if carried by an invisible hand. It swings slightly, then vanishes, often right as someone tries to approach.

Some say the light stops when you call out to it. Others claim to smell coal smoke, hear soft footsteps behind them, or feel a sudden chill in the air. No one has ever caught the light. But it always appears in the same place, where the brakeman died.

Paranormal Encounters

In 2013, a team of paranormal researchers from Roanoke conducted an overnight investigation inside Cambria Depot. Using EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) recorders, they asked a simple question: “What’s your name?”
The only response that came back on playback: “Workin’.”
A single word. Not a name. Just a purpose. The implication is chilling, that the spirit remains on the job, still walking the line, still waiting for the train that will never come.

Why It Still Haunts

Cambria Depot is more than a train station. It’s a site of transition, a place where people said goodbye, where soldiers shipped off to war, where countless human stories began and ended. Death at such a site leaves a mark, especially one as sudden and violent as the brakeman’s.

Many paranormal investigators believe the Lantern Man is a residual haunting, a tragic loop that plays over and over. Others argue it may be intelligent, since some visitors report the lantern reacts to questions or movement.

Whether echo or entity, the lantern still swings.

Would you visit the Cambria Depot at night? Would you walk the tracks where he died? Or would you turn away the moment the light starts to move?

07/28/2025

St. Albans Sanatorium – Where the Shadows Still Whisper

📍Radford, Virginia

Perched high on a hill overlooking the New River, the imposing brick structure of St. Albans Sanatorium watches silently over Radford. But if the walls could speak, they wouldn’t whisper, they’d scream.

Originally opened in 1892 as St. Albans Lutheran Boys’ School, the institution was renowned for academic excellence… and brutal discipline. Students were encouraged to resolve disputes through physical fights, and several deaths were rumored to have occurred on school grounds before the building was repurposed.

In 1916, the site was transformed into St. Albans Sanatorium, a psychiatric hospital under the direction of Dr. John C. King. While Dr. King was considered a visionary by some for pushing the boundaries of early mental health care, others condemned the facility for the practices it allowed. Electroshock therapy, insulin comas, isolation chambers, and lobotomies were all part of the daily routine. By mid-century, the hospital had earned a grim reputation for patient suicides, abuse, and malpractice.

Real events and stories

• Marion Harper, a young nurse, reportedly jumped or was pushed from the upper floor in 1953. Witnesses claim to see her ghost staring from the same window before vanishing into the air.
• Room 27 is said to have been a hydrotherapy chamber. Patients were strapped into tubs of scalding or freezing water for hours. Modern ghost hunters have captured EVPs of screams and moans around the room.
• The Boiler Room, where patients’ personal belongings were incinerated, is now one of the most active spots. Multiple visitors report nausea, fainting spells, and sudden cold spots.

One former employee recalled hearing footsteps behind her every night during rounds, always matching her pace, but no one was ever there. Paranormal teams have documented moving shadows, disembodied voices, EVP responses, and objects shifting on their own. Some guests have fled in the middle of the night, unable to shake the feeling that something followed them home.

Why It’s Haunted

It’s believed that dozens, possibly hundreds, of patients died on the premises during the 20th century. Many were buried in unmarked graves. Former staff have admitted that deaths were often underreported or not documented at all during periods of state oversight lapse.

The pain, confusion, and terror of those forgotten souls are said to still echo through the halls. Some believe the building itself has become a kind of trap for energy, a cage that holds the broken minds that once lived and died there.

Want to Visit?
St. Albans now offers public tours, private investigations, and overnight lock-ins. But beware: Many guests report sudden mood shifts, dizziness, or hearing their names whispered. Paranormal investigators recommend protection prayers or cleansing rituals after visiting… just in case something decides to come back with you.

Would you dare walk the halls where Marion died? Where shadows crawl along the walls? Where no one is ever truly alone.

07/28/2025

Public Announcement

We’re excited to announce that Michael Breen Creative Works LLC has officially acquired New River Paranormal.

This strategic move brings our investigative and historical storytelling efforts under one unified creative vision. New River Paranormal will continue its mission of exploring local legends, historical mysteries, and unexplained phenomena, now with the full support and resources of Michael Breen Creative Works LLC.

This acquisition strengthens our commitment to delivering thoughtful, professionally produced content that blends history, folklore, and curiosity in fresh and compelling ways.

Stay tuned for new projects, investigations, and collaborations.

Stay curious,
Michael Breen
Founder & Creative Director
Michael Breen Creative Works LLC