9 Haunted Hotels that you can actually stay in

The Colonial is said to be haunted by none other than Ralph Waldo Emerson. Other guests report experiencing “phantom presences” in Room 24, once the operating room of Dr. James Minot.

Now considered one of the most haunted hotels in New Orleans, it’s believed to be occupied by the ghosts of confederate soldiers, Catholic nuns, and the children who lived at the convent orphanage in the 19th century.

It’s said that 1920s partygoers are often heard playing music and breaking glass on the hotel’s ninth floor. But when anyone ventures up there, the noise is immediately silenced.

Monaco dates back to the Civil War, when it was known as the Marshall House. It’s said the ghosts of James W. Jackson and Colonel Elmer Ellsworth, both of whom died during the war, haunt the sixth floor.

The Omni Grove Park Inn is said to be haunted by a mischievous ghost known as the Pink Lady. Though her origins are mysterious, she’s supposedly a friendly ghost who delights in pranks rather than frights: She occasionally appears as a pink mist but spends most of her time invisibly turning air conditioners on and off, tickling guests' feet as they sleep, and even holding their hands.

Guests report some strange apparitions—including women in red and blue evening gowns, and even the ghost of actor Cary Grant, who in 1986 collapsed in Suite 903 before being declared dead at a nearby hospital.

The Lord Baltimore is full of unseen spirits: invisible hands brush against people in the elevators, the rooms are filled with the sense of an invisible presence, and spirits run the elevators at night. But there is a visible ghost too—a young girl in a long dress and black shoes is often seen on the 19th floor bouncing a red ball.

Guests report invisible hands touching them in room 325, as well as the sounds of a crying child pealing through the hotel at night. The hotel also has its own witchy history—several episodes of the classic TV show Bewitched were shot there.

In the parlor of the Notchland Inn sits a peculiar gravestone, which reads, “Nancy Barton—Died in a Snowstorm in Pursuit of Her Faithless Lover.” According to legend, in 1778, back when the Notched Inn was still a private residence, Barton worked as a maid at a nearby house. Shortly before her wedding, Barton’s fiancé abandoned the bride-to-be, stealing her money and riding away on horseback. An anguished Barton ran after her fiancé on foot, but never caught him, instead getting lost in a storm near the Inn. To this day, she is said to haunt the premises of the Notchland Inn, writing strange symbols on the bathroom mirror in steam—even when the showers aren’t running.