North America’s Top 10 Haunted Hotels

North America’s Top 10 Haunted Hotels

Are you looking for a different kind of stay in one of America’s most haunted hotels? Some hotels preserve the past in more than their architecture and antique charm, there’s also their reputation for ghostly activity. According to decades of local lore, staff accounts, guest reports and historical records a handful of properties have also earned reputations for the unexplained. Read, learn and be inspired to visit these locations by the ghosts, who checked in and reportedly never checked out. Here is a curated list from publicly available sources of 10 authentic haunted hotels, prioritizing documented dark history, specific high-activity reports, and the “gritty” reality of their pasts (asylums, mining accidents, and shootouts) rather than Hollywood/pop culture fame.

At a Glance

1886 Crescent Hotel — Eureka Springs, AR

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The Crescent earned its “America’s Most Haunted Hotel” reputation the hard way: in 1937–1939, it operated as Norman Baker’s so-called Baker Cancer Hospital, a notorious medical fraud chapter that still clings to the building’s identity. Tours take guests to the basement morgue, shown with an autopsy table and a walk-in cooler the hotel says was used during the Baker era. It’s one of the hotel’s most talked-about hotspots with guests and guides repeatedly describing the morgue area as “active,” with temperature drops, heavy-atmosphere moments, and unexplained noises that start as soon as you step into the corridor.
Historic Hotels of America describes a nurse pushing a gurney in the old morgue area complete with the squeak and rattle of wheels and even notes a maintenance worker witnessing washers and dryers switching on by themselves in the night. The hotel’s own lore points to Room 218, linked to “Michael,” an Irish stonemason said to have died during construction, and Room 419, where “Theodora” is reportedly seen fumbling for keys. Guests also talk about footsteps, knocks and if you’ve heard the bouncing-ball stories, the hotel names that presence too: “Breckie,” a young child said to be seen around the halls, often with a ball.

The Marshall House — Savannah, GA

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Savannah’s oldest operating hotel doesn’t rely on “spooky atmosphere” alone it has a documented history that gives the stories teeth. Built in 1851, it was occupied by Union troops and used as a Union hospital in 1864–65, and the hotel also states it served as a hospital during two yellow fever epidemics. Then comes the detail every ghost tour repeats: workers allegedly found human remains under floorboards during the late-1990s restoration, often attributed in retellings to Civil War era medical activity (though the exact nature of what was found varies by source). If you’re booking for activity, Room 414 is the one guests request, with published guest reviews describing footsteps and doors moving on their own, and others describing a stubborn, unpleasant odour linked to that room in forum accounts.
And the signature story? Tour guides love to tell of a Union soldier in the lobby missing an arm, asking for a surgeon. Beyond the soldiers, visitors have reported the playful laughter of children remnants of the hotel’s time as a yellow fever hospital and sightings of the founder, Mary Magdalene Marshall, watching over the hallways she built nearly two centuries ago. Legend or not, it’s the kind of repeatable claim that keeps this place on every serious haunted-hotel shortlist

Jerome Grand Hotel — Jerome, AZ

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The Jerome Grand’s reputation starts with what it used to be: the United Verde Hospital, a poured-in-place concrete facility planned in 1926 and opened in January 1927 for a copper-mining town where serious injuries and death were routine. The hotel’s own history notes the hospital ran until 1950, and that a live-in caretaker died by suicide in the 1980s, after which the building was boarded up. The haunting of the Jerome Grand is physically anchored by the original 1926 Otis elevator, a heavy iron cage that still serves as a reminder of the building’s life as the United Verde Hospital. This elevator is the site of the hotel’s most documented tragedy: the 1935 death of maintenance man Claude Harvey, whose body was found pinned beneath the car. Guests report the mechanical rattle of the shaft and the elevator cab moving to floors where no buttons were pushed, as if still operated by a phantom hand. 
Rooms 23 and 25 (formerly known as “death rooms” during the hospital’s peak years) remain the center of activity, where the terminally ill go to pass. Reports of the drift of phantom cigar smoke through sealed rooms and the distinct sound of heavy, laboured breathing in the silence of the night. According to the L.A. Times, Room 32 is the most requested by those seeking the unexplained, where two men who committed suicide stayed. Guests have documented furniture that has been visibly dragged across the floor and the persistent sensation of a cold weight at the foot of the bed.

St. James Hotel — Cimarron, NM

(Image Credit: English:  National Trails Office (US National Park Service), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

The St. James doesn’t have to “lean spooky” to earn its reputation it’s a Santa Fe Trail holdover built for hard men with guns and money. Founded in 1872 by Henri Lambert, it grew into a notorious stop where the guest list is widely reported to include Old West heavyweights like Wyatt Earp and Jesse James, In 1901, when Lambert’s sons replaced the roof, they reportedly discovered the building had been shot up so badly that a second layer of wood had helped shield the upstairs today the dining-room ceiling still shows 22 bullet holes, left there as a blunt reminder of what this place was.
The hauntings here are room-specific and stubborn. Room 18 is the headline: it’s padlocked and not rented, tied to the story of T.J. (Thomas James) Wright, a gambler/cowboy said to have been shot after a poker game and to have “never checked out.” Across the hall, Room 17 is linked to Mary Lambert, whose calling card is ‘rose-scented perfume’ according to multiple retellings she ‘taps at the window’ until it’s closed. Staff and guests also talk about cigar smoke, boot-spur footsteps, and an impish presence in the bar that likes to make itself known when the place should be empty.

The Alaskan Hotel — Juneau, AK

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The Alaskan’s haunting reputation is welded to its real reputation: this place stayed open by adapting to whatever the law or the Fire Marshal was doing that decade. The building opened in 1913 and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, with the National Park Service nomination describing it as the oldest operating hotel in Juneau. The hotel’s own history says Alaska’s “Bone Dry” Prohibition hit in 1918, prompting the bar to present itself as a soda café speakeasy logic, Juneau-style. The property functioned as a brothel twice: once legally in the early years, and later as the Northlander, which it says was shut down and condemned in 1977. 

For seekers of the paranormal, the gravity points to Room 315, the bar, and the basement. In May 2007, a Navy sailor reportedly requested the “haunted room,” screamed from inside, and jumped from the window an incident covered in local public media. Owner Bettye Adams has described Room 315 as “creepy,” and she’s also blunt that the activity isn’t confined upstairs: “there’s all kinds of haunting in the bar, in the basement.” And then there’s Alice,  the hotel’s most persistent resident legend, most often tied to a reported 1917 death and a strong association with Room 219. Details describe a female presence: sightings in mirrors, the impression of someone sitting on the bed, and that unmistakable feeling that the room has company.

The Bullock Hotel — Deadwood, SD

(Image Credit: DXR, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

The Bullock hotel’s haunted reputation is tied to a very specific Deadwood story: after the 1894 fire wiped out much of the business district, Seth Bullock and his partner Sol Star pivoted from hardware to hospitality and began building a sandstone hotel on Main Street. The three-story, 64-room Bullock Hotel opened in 1896, and it’s still one of the town’s most recognizable survivors from that rebuilding era. 

The hotel’s signature “resident” is Bullock himself, less a tragic ghost story than a stubborn, managerial presence. The hotel claims dozens of reports where a strong paranormal presence is felt in the second- and third-floor hallways, with items moved and showers turning on without anyone touching them especially when staff are standing around, whistling or humming. For the classic tourist hotspot, local reporting and guest lore frequently point to Room 211, said to have been Bullock’s room, where people describe sudden cigar smoke with no source; like someone’s still doing rounds, checking the place is being run properly. Don’t ignore the basement/Seth’s Cellar. A regional travel feature says it was used as a smallpox sick ward, and that’s where the child-spirit reports cluster running footsteps, kids in the hall, and a little girl often called “Sarah.” And if you want something you can actually listen to, Black Hills Paranormal Investigations published multiple on-site EVPs, including one labelled a child’s voice captured in the basement.

The Silver Queen Hotel — Virginia City, NV

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 Virginia City is a Comstock boomtown built off the 1859 silver strike, and the Silver Queen is one of the survivors that still runs on Old West terms. Built in 1876, it’s widely promoted as the town’s oldest hotel, sitting above a saloon anchored by the towering “Silver Queen” portrait set with thousands of silver dollars. Downstairs, the chapel/crypt area is the spot most often singled out in tourism write-ups and investigation accounts for reported activity. With claimed late-night movement and odd camera moments that staff can’t easily explain, the hotel’s most persistent “gritty” history is etched into the floorboards of the upper levels.

 In a town built on sudden fortune and rapid ruin, the resident legend is Rosie, a 19th-century “lady of the night” who reportedly ended her life in the bathtub of Room 11. This is a sensory-heavy haunting with reports of rhythmic clicking of high heels on original wood floors and the disturbing sound of fingertips tapping against the exterior of windowpanes in the dead of night. For those booking for activity, enthusiasts typically request Room 11 and Room 13 as a pair, as they are connected and serve as the primary corridor for both Rosie and a second presence known as Annie, who is frequently heard running through the hallways as if repeating a frantic moment from the hotel’s boomtown past. This is also one of the hotels where investigators and guests regularly publish EVP and overnight walkthroughs, interested in seeing more links below;

Hotel del Coronado — Coronado, CA

(Hotel del Coronado at sunset)

 The Victorian silhouette of “The Del” is inseparable from the documented 1892 coroner’s report of Kate Morgan, the “Beautiful Stranger” whose body was discovered on an exterior staircase leading toward the Pacific. Kate had checked into the hotel under a pseudonym, appearing sickly and waiting five days for a companion who never arrived before her life ended with a single gunshot. The physical evidence of her stay is centered on Room 3327, where the activity is far from a vague legend. Guests in this specific room have logged sudden, localized temperature drops and the persistent flickering of lights in rhythmic patterns that suggest a lingering presence. The unvarnished reality of the haunting often manifests as physical movement; modern reports include accounts of items vibrating on nightstands or being found moved across the room by an unseen hand. Beyond the walls of the room, the hotel’s raw history is felt on the very staircase where her journey ended, with sightings of a shadowy figure in black lace walking the shoreline or standing motionless against the ocean breeze.

Congress Plaza Hotel — Chicago, IL

Built for the 1893 World’s Fair, the Congress Plaza’s grandeur hides a dark history of organized crime and urban tragedy. Its most undeniable anchor to the unexplained is Room 441 which is the one most often singled out in the hotel’s lore and tour accounts for physical disturbances. Guests repeatedly report the violent shaking of bedframes and sightings of a dark, one-legged silhouette, the spirit of “Peg-Leg Johnny” standing motionless at the foot of the bed. In 1900, Captain Louis Ostheim reportedly died by suicide at the hotel after waking from a night terror and shooting himself. Since then, staff and guests have repeatedly linked his presence to the building: a shadowy figure seen moving through corridors and public areas, often described as lingering as if he’s still looking for the life he was about to start.

The hotel’s most sombre history resides on the 12th floor, where the air remains heavy with the memory of the Langer family. In 1939, Adele Langer, a refugee fleeing the Nazi regime, threw her two young sons from a window before jumping herself. Security guards with decades of service describe a “child in the corridor” who meets their gaze with a silent grin before dissolving. This raw past extends to the Gold Room, where staff report phantom applause and a “Dancing Lady” reflected in high mirrors, and the basement “suicide room,” where witnesses have seen a gloved hand emerge from a wall where a worker was allegedly buried alive during construction.

Bourbon Orleans Hotel — New Orleans, LA

(Image credit: jericl cat, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

The dark history of the Bourbon Orleans is rooted in its mid-19th-century role as a convent and orphanage run by the Sisters of the Holy Family, a period marked by the devastating Yellow Fever epidemics that swept through the French Quarter. The physical evidence of this era remains in the building’s layout, where the transition from a high-society ballroom to a place of medical tragedy created a unique, dual-layered haunting. The activity here is intensely sensory; guests in the hallways frequently report the sound of children’s laughter and the distinct patter of running feet echoing on the floors when the hotel is dead quiet. On the 6th Floor, the air is often filled with the scent of old incense or candle wax, with a little girl reportedly seen chasing a ball, this is accompanied by additional reports of a Confederate soldier seen pacing the 6th and 3rd floors. The most visually striking documented encounter occurs in the Great Ballroom, where a “Dancing Lady” is seen beneath the crystal chandeliers, her presence anchored by the faint sound of a non-existent orchestra that several witnesses have claimed to hear late at night.

Haunted Hotel Quick Glance Field Guide

HotelLocationPrimary “Hotspot”Physical Evidence / Activity
1886 Crescent HotelEureka Springs, ARRoom 218, 419 & Basement morgueWashers/dryers switching on; Squeaking gurney wheels, heavy atmosphere, and sudden temperature drops.
The Marshall HouseSavannah, GARoom 414 + lobby/upper floors Human remains found under floorboards; Stubborn “unpleasant odors,” doors moving on their own, and phantom laughter.
Jerome Grand HotelJerome, AZOtis elevator + Rooms 23/25/32Furniture visibly dragged across floors; Sensory: Mechanical rattle of an empty elevator, labored breathing, and phantom cigar smoke.
St. James HotelCimarron, NMRoom 18 (locked) + Room 17 + dining-room ceiling 22 bullet holes in ceiling; Tapping on windowpanes and an “impish” presence in the bar moving objects.
The Alaskan HotelJuneau, AKRoom 315 + basement/bar + Room 219Documented 2007 window jump; Sensory: The “impression” of someone sitting on the bed and the feeling of being touched or pulled.
The Bullock HotelDeadwood, SDRoom 211 + Seth’s Cellar (basement)Multiple captured child-voice EVPs; Poltergeist activity: Items moved and showers turning on by themselves.
Silver Queen HotelVirginia City, NVRoom 11 & 13 + chapel/crypt areaRhythmic fingertips tapping on the outside of window glass; Sharp clicking of heels and the sound of running in hallways
Hotel del CoronadoCoronado, CARoom 3327 (formerly 302) + staircase + beach areaPhysical: Nightstand items vibrating and moving; Poltergeist activity: Lights flickering in rhythmic, purposeful patterns.
Congress Plaza HotelChicago, ILRoom 441 + Gold Room + 12th FloorViolent shaking of bedframes; Scratching from behind masonry and a gloved hand emerging from walls.
Bourbon OrleansNew Orleans, LA6th Floor, 3rd Floor & BallroomPatter of running feet in quiet halls; scent of old incense and candle wax; faint sound of a non-existent orchestra. Confederate soldier

The reality of these hotels is that they don’t need to rely on “spooky” marketing; the 22 bullet holes in a dining room ceiling or the human remains found under floorboards are evidence enough. Whether you’re a historian or a paranormal researcher, these sites offer a rare chance to stand exactly where the American story turned dark. Thanks for reading to the end, I hope you have enjoyed this article. 

Till the next time,
Gemma – The Unknown Quest


*Just as a side-note where possible I have cross-checked claims against hotel history pages, local archives, historical societies and reputable publications to obtain as accurate a list as possible.

References