Lacova’s Travel Tales

The Haunted Dempsey House

The Haunted Dempsey House is one name given to this location; it has many names and many stories, but the question at hand is- is it even a house?

The Tales that follow the Dempsey House:

The Smell:

An old and exhausted, Mrs. Dempsey had been taking care of her ill husband for some time now. She was growing tired, and slightly afraid of her ailing husband.

Down in the kitchen, she sat preparing his next meal; the only sounds that echoed through the house were the sounds of Mr. Dempsey moaning and crying for his wife. Mrs. Dempsey glanced up, shocked by the horrible cry that traveled down the narrow staircase. Mrs. Dempsey quickly prepared her husband’s tray and began her journey up the short flight of stairs. She reached the landing of the stairs, her husband still moaning and crying, but as she reached the door, she was unable to enter; instead, she screamed and dropped the tray. She ran down the stairs faster than she had climbed them. She made a quick exit for the door, never to return. What could have caused her to flee? The rumors were plenty- a ghost, an evil spirit.

Months after her disappearance, a smell began to linger through the house and out the doors, which was then detected by the neighbors. Afraid to enter, the neighbors phoned the police. The policeman who was sent entered the home, calling to whoever was inside. With no answer, he began to inspect the house. After a few short moments, he came running out of the house, went to a nearby tree, and hung himself.

Or so the story goes…..

The Letter Opener

One Halloween night, the Dempsey family was at home – mother, three daughters, and father. In the living room, they sat around a fire crackling in the fireplace. Mrs. Dempsey was working on her needlepoint in her favorite chair. As she weaved her needle, it pierced through the flesh of the cotton and threaded through to the other side. She enjoyed her craft. Mr. Dempsey was at his desk, trying to read the business section of his paper, shuffling it from one end of the desk to the other. The three girls were at a nearby table gossiping, giggling, and giggling as they played a game of cards. Mr. Dempsey had been under a lot of pressure and stress lately, due to his failing business. He was trying to stay calm, but the sound of the needle penetrating the cotton was trying his last nerve. He shifted in his chair, attempting to still the beast that was brewing inside. His oldest daughter shuffled the playing cards as she cackled her last laugh. Mr. Dempsey snapped. He stood from his chair with his letter opener in hand and ended the frustrating sounds that consumed his living room, leaving a pool of blood behind. Then he proceeded outside, standing leaning against the porch, while the cold wind blew against his face, the letter opener in hand, blood dripping from his hand. When he realized what he had done, he dropped the letter opener, and with a clank, it made contact with the ground. He looked across the street to where a tree stood, and with a heavy heart, he hung himself.

Or so the story goes……