It has been said many times over the years that strange things happen when employees at the York County Courthouse in Alfred work at night or during empty weekend days. Strange and disturbing things can happen that send shivers down your spine.
It’s not just the door slamming shut on its own, although that happens too.
Sometimes I hear footsteps. Sometimes there is a presence. Sometimes a shadow.
No matter how you look at it, it’s disturbing, disturbing, and inexplicable.
According to historical accounts, the stately York County Courthouse was built in 1806. It was renovated in 1852 and fireproof wings were added in 1854. In February 1933, a fire destroyed the building’s central structure. It was rebuilt in 1934 and expanded in 1963.
Like any old building, there are squeaks and drafts, but people say it’s more than that in this case.
Carol Lovejoy, a probate clerk who has worked for the York County government in Maine for 43 years, remembers hearing stories of a being — supposedly, who took her own life in a building some time ago. It was probably the ghost of a deceased judge. .
“I was told that if I came to court at night and sat in the large courtroom on the second floor, the door behind the (judge’s) bench would open,” Lovejoy said. When the courtroom door opened, lights that were always on in the room behind the bench poured into the courtroom, and when the door closed again, “I could hear papers rattling on the bench,” she said.
One night a few years ago, a group of friends attending a regular square dance event in the building’s basement decided to see for themselves what would happen.
“We were sitting in the back row. It was pitch black,” Lovejoy said. She said the group never saw a door open or a light shine like she was told. “But suddenly a shadow passed around the room from right to left,” she said. That night, she “felt terrible chills” even though she was wearing three layers of clothing.
York County Government Manager Greg Zinsser said of an experience several years ago: “I responded to a ‘trouble’ alarm at the courthouse around 1 a.m.,” he said. “I parked in the back parking lot and entered through the employee entrance. The building itself was quiet except for a very quiet spill of light from the outside lights and a very small red light flashing on the alarm panel. It was pitch black.” Zinser said he turned on the lights inside the room and began walking down the long, marble-floored hallway on the first floor.
“As I was walking, I stopped to check one of the rooms and then I heard unmistakable footsteps behind me,” Zinser said. “The footsteps had the familiar echo that you experience when walking through the halls of a courthouse. The footsteps themselves didn’t last long, just long enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Building Walk. The through has been completed, but the speed of movement has increased.”
Debra Hamm, a 35-year employee of the Register of Deeds, was working overtime with others on a Saturday a few years ago when she was alone in one of the offices.
“I felt like I saw Lois Muse walk by,” she said of the deed at the time. “I recognized her by her sweater and hair. I called her name but she didn’t answer. So I jumped up to get her but she was nearby. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t here either.”
Court security officer Dennis Chagnon is stationed in the main entrance lobby. He said metal detectors sometimes go off and doors open on their own, even when no one is around.
Employees affectionately, and sometimes resentfully, refer to the “being” as “George.”
“We always say George,” Chagnon said.
Richard Gaudette from the maintenance department was working the night shift at the courthouse. “George’s shadow was everywhere,” he said throughout his 31 years as a county employee.
A former co-worker said he thought Gaudette was playing a prank on him when he saw a black-robed figure walk past as the two were working in the building one night. I remembered that. However, Gaudette was working in another part of the building that day. Another floor. His colleagues then refused to work alone in the building and quit after six months, Gaudette said, “I’d had enough.”
Ms. Lovejoy, the probate clerk, recalled another incident that occurred one day after she carried a stack of case files from her office to a nearby probate court and placed them in the corner of the judge’s desk.
“I left the room. I heard a loud bang, so I came back and the files were neatly piled up on the floor,” she said, adding that she had simply slipped off her desk. There was no such scattering. “I said, ‘George, leave my file alone,’ and after that it was fine. He likes to play pranks.”
Fewer people work in the building recently, as the state courthouse consolidated and moved to a new facility in Bideford. Still, the county-owned courthouse remains open and home to some county departments and agencies — and people say it’s home to George.
Related article