Throughout this landscape are locations marked by abandoned ruins, centuries-old historical tales, and unexplained happenings that resist easy explanation. While much of America’s early history has been lost to time, plenty of it stands in a strange middle ground, where travelers can find early settlements overgrown with forest cover, or government and military buildings that once housed who knows what kind of mysterious research.
Cities like Philadelphia and Washington, DC, tell stories of America’s brightest and most somber moments in history. But to see a side of history you won’t find at the Smithsonian, you’ll need to venture a bit off the beaten path. These are the most mysterious places in each state on the East Coast.
An abandoned steam train near Eagle Lake in the Allagash Wilderness Waterway, Maine. Photo: E. J. Johnson Photography/Shutterstock
Allagash Wilderness Waterway in the state’s North Woods is one of Maine’s most intensely mysterious places for its remote wilderness and its history as the site of the infamous “Allagash Abductions.” In August 1976, four men were on a two-week canoe trip along the Allagash Waterway. On their fourth night, they described seeing an enormous “brilliant orb of light” hovering over the trees. It supposedly then emitted a beam that surrounded the boat, after which the group suddenly found themselves back on shore, with their campfire burned to ashes as if hours had passed.
Years later, recurring nightmares led all four men to undergo hypnosis, during which each independently recounted being forced to strip for medical procedures on that night. All four also passed polygraph tests. Beyond the abduction tale, the Allagash Wilderness remains mysterious thanks to dense fog, the vast quiet, and a haunting absence of crowds.
The New Hampshire site known as “America’s Stonehenge” is a maze of stone walls, chambers, and columns spread across nearly 30 acres. Carbon dating confirms human activity in the area going back 4,000 years ago, but researchers don’t really know who built it or why. Part of the mystery stems from the early 20th century, when a historian rearranged much of the site to suggest it had been built by ancient Irish monks. With no cultural or historical records to consult, the mystery endures.
Explanations for its creation range from Indigenous Americans to pre-Columbian European visitors. Modern theories rule out most of the more convoluted origin tales, but there are still plenty of unanswered questions about what spurred construction of the massive stone undertaking, with some saying it’s tied to lunar and celestial events.
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The Bennington Triangle looms large in Vermont lore as a stretch of rugged wilderness known for a chilling string of unsolved disappearances and eerie legends. “Emily’s Bridge” in Stowe is often dubbed Vermont’s most famous haunted site, but the Bennington Triangle is perhaps the most mysterious place in Vermont, especially for those who prefer facts and logic.
The three-point triangle of Bennington, Woodford, and Somerset covers Glastenbury Mountain. The area earned its name in the mid-20th century, when several people vanished without a trace between 1945 and 1950. That included a war veteran, an experienced outdoorsman, and young, healthy people. All disappeared with no evidence, even when police used search dogs to find clues.
Reported phenomena include sudden changes in weather, disorientation, odd lights in the forest, phantom hitchhikers, and suspiciously silent woods. Some theories on the disappearances involve natural hazards, harsh terrain, and wildlife, but locals and paranormal researchers point to rumors of energy vortices, UFO activity, and even creatures like Bigfoot. To date, no scientific investigation sufficiently explains the nature of the disappearances, and no leads on any of the missing people have ever been found.
Dighton Rock, preserved in a state park of the same name, baffles scientists with its archaeological mysteries. The 40-ton glacial boulder is etched with petroglyphs — geometric shapes and human-like figures that have fueled debate for centuries. Scholars have theorized they were left by a 15th-century Portuguese explorer, or may be the remains of a lost Viking message, or could have been carved by Phoenicians (who thrived in modern-day Lebanon from the 10th to 6th centuries BCE).
Today, most scholars think the carvings were made by early Indigenous Americans, perhaps to commemorate noteworthy events or mark territory. However, since the markings don’t match symbols or carvings from known area groups, such as the Algonquian or Wampanoag, its true origin may never be known.
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The Arnold Estate in Harrisville, better known as “The Conjuring House,” is a Colonial farmhouse built in 1736 that gained infamy in the 1970s when the Perron family moved in. For nearly a decade, they reported beds shaking at dawn, doors opening on their own, and foul smells drifting through the rooms without explanation.
The family’s experiences drew the attention of paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren. They conducted a seance in the home, during which mother Carolyn Perron reportedly levitated in her chair and spoke in a voice not her own. The Perrons stayed in the house until 1980, and their story became the foundation for “The Conjuring” films.
The farmhouse is now a paranormal attraction with guided daytime tours and overnight investigations. Guests have slept in the same upstairs bedrooms once occupied by the Perron daughters, set up equipment in the cellar where Roger Perron reported an oppressive presence, and often share recordings of unexplained footsteps or voices. The house has been studied extensively by scientists and skeptics, and even though many claim the phenomena were faked, it raises another creepy question: why would the family put themselves through such an ordeal? Or was the family truly suffering some unexplainable activity or shared psychosis? And did the Warrens exploit their misfortune just for financial gain? Even non-believers have to admit the house carries a dark energy.
Anywhere known colloquially as “The Village of the Damned” has got to be creepy. Dudleytown lives up to its nickname, though its official name sounds more like a perfectly planned community in the film Pleasantville. In Dudleytown, what was once a small colonial settlement has since been reduced to crumbling stone foundations overtaken by tangled roots and moss, with a silence punctuated only by the occasional rustling of leaves (wait, was that just the wind?).
Legend has it that the Dudley family brought a curse from England that doomed the town to generations of misfortune, causing residents to reportedly succumb to madness, mysterious deaths, and unexplained disappearances. In the 1970s, the real-life couple Ed and Lorraine Warren, who inspired the “The Conjuring” franchise, said the land was definitely demonically possessed. Today, Dudleytown is privately owned and closed to visitors, and even though most of the claims have been rebutted, its reputation as one of New England’s most haunted places continues to lure curious travelers to its edges.
While you can see the ruins from afar, you can’t legally explore the property. Trespassing is a problem, and fines for littering and disturbing the peace are frequently issued to protect those living nearby. Plus, trespassing risks more than a fine: you may end up carrying the village’s sinister energy out with you.
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Utica State Hospital opened in 1843 as the first state-run mental health facility in New York. At the time, it was considered progressive. The towering Greek Revival building known as “Old Main” was built with help from local residents, who raised funds alongside the state. Despite its impressive architecture and reputation as a leading institution, life inside was a horror story.
Treatments included electroshock therapy, lobotomies, and the notorious “Utica Crib” — a shallow wooden cage used to restrain or punish patients. Many were institutionalized for reasons as minor as grief, alcohol use, or “religious excitement.” At full capacity, more than 400 patients, overseen by only a few dozen staff, crowded into the facility, often in filthy, overcrowded conditions. The hospital officially closed in the 1970s, but Old Main still stands — and so do the stories.
Visitors on rare tours reported seeing shadowy faces at the windows, and hearing screams from the basement and footsteps in the empty halls. Old Main stores state records instead of patients these days, though the building opens to the public for occasional ghost tours and historical walk-throughs. While many mysterious places on this list have a kernel of truth behind them, Utica state prison has quite a bit, as multiple reports, documentaries, and books have painstakingly detailed the facts and history of the poor care and deaths inside the facility.
Hex Hollow, now called Spring Valley County Park, is a dark and tangled forest with a history that touches on both murder and Pennsylvania Dutch folklore. The woods were the scene of the 1928 “Hex Murder” where a local folk medicine healer was killed by neighbors who thought he’d cursed them. Stories of curses (and the murder) spread fear and suspicion for generations, and the house where the folk healer lived still stands, though it’s on private property.
In the woods, visitors have reported roads that seem to change and trap drivers, as well as apparitions that come and go in a glance. Fishermen walking in the woods have described the experience as “creepy.” While the house is closed to the public, the park and surrounding woods are open. If you have Amazon Prime, you can watch a 2015 documentary on Hex Hollow and its impacts on witchcraft and the occult in the US.
Photo: Doug Rose/Shutterstock
The Pine Barrens is a one-million acre forest and UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, as well as one of the most mysterious places in New Jersey. The massive forest includes more than a dozen (some say more than 100) abandoned towns and villages. That includes Ongs Hat, said to be the former site of an alien-worship cult and a portal to another dimension, and Brooksbrae, said to be the site of satanic ceremonies in the 1970s.
However, the most famous thing in the Pine Barrens isn’t the ghost towns — it’s the so-called “Jersey Devil,” a bat-like creature allegedly born in the woods in 1735. Reports of sightings continue to this day, and the creature is often blamed when nearby farm animals suffer unexplainable deaths. Legends around the Jersey Devil are such a part of American culture that it’s appeared on everything from The X-Files to multiple History Channel shows. In 2023, a poll found that roughly 16 percent of residents think the Jersey Devil is probably real.
Fletchertown Road in Bowie is the home of the legend of Goatman: a half-man, half-goat creature said to lurk in the woods near an abandoned Department of Agriculture facility. Stories began in the 1970s when residents reported seeing a large, animal-like figure walking on two legs near the research center.
Supposedly, Goatman was born when scientists at the research facility fused goat DNA with human DNA. In 1971, a local newspaper published a report of a murdered dog, with family members blaming Goatman. While the USDA has denied any secret projects to create goat-human hybrids, reports still trickle in occasionally, especially in the vicinity of Bowie and central Maryland.
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Part museum, part campfire ghost story come to life, Fort Delaware is an eerie remnant of the Civil War that rises like a mirage from the marshland surrounding the Delaware River. Built in the mid-19th century to guard the ports of Philadelphia and Wilmington, it quickly gained infamy as a Union prison camp where thousands of Confederate soldiers were confined. The massive granite walls and echoing casemates once held men in crowded, miserable conditions, and tales of disease, despair, and death are forever etched into the stone. Today, ferries still carry visitors to Pea Patch Island, where the fort stands isolated and weirdly atmospheric.
Paranormal investigators claim the spirits of former prisoners wander the corridors, while others report shadowy figures pacing the gun decks and the distant sound of boots on stone when no one else is around. The fort leans into its reputation and embraces the spooky stories, hosting official paranormal investigations open to the public throughout the year. 