Thanks to my husband, George, for this story about a haunted monastery in Connecticut!

Author’s Note: I have purposely not included the name of the monastery to protect the organization’s privacy.

Every fall, George goes to a professional conference that is held in a monastery in Connecticut.  Built in the 1950s, the monastery resides in a residential area on a property surrounded by woods.  It’s the type of place where you expect Big Foot to come lumbering out of the forest.  A labyrinth, statues of Mary, and the Stations of the Cross adorn the grounds.  All of his colleagues have reported odd sensations or strange experiences during their stays at the monastery.  Although a place of prayer that also rents out its rooms for various retreats, the monastery has a slightly unsettling atmosphere that can become eerie, especially after dark.

Most of the rooms in the monastery are small and include twin beds, a desk, and a crucifix adorning the wall.  George told me that one coworker had a spooky experience where she couldn’t sleep because she felt like someone was in her room watching her.  She has refused to stay overnight for the conference ever since.

One conference a few years back, George had arrived earlier than everyone else.  Like most Coed dormitories, the men and women’s rooms are kept separated from one another.  Being the only male that had arrived thus far, George was the sole occupant on his floor at the time.  He decided to set up his poster for the upcoming session that evening.

On the second floor is an old, masonic-style chapel with wooden chairs lining both sides of the room.  The chapel has two entrances that make it possible to use the room as a way to cut across to the other side of the building without having to go the long way around.  George carried his poster to the showroom without incident.  On the way back, he decided to take the short cut through the chapel.

It was a cloudy, rainy day.  The overhead electric lights were off and the illumination coming from the windows was dim at best.  As George was walking, he suddenly became aware of footsteps following him in the chapel.  “Click clack, click clack,” went the steps.  George was wearing sneakers, so he knew it wasn’t his shoes making the noise.  He paused and the sound of footsteps continued for a few seconds before fading away.  George had felt the presence of someone walking behind him, but turning around, saw that no one was there.  No one else had arrived for the conference yet.  After a few moments, George continued on his way, but thankfully didn’t hear the phantom footsteps again.

George is not one to spook easily and unlike me, he doesn’t purposely seek out ghosts, cemeteries, or haunted places.  He doesn’t have much interest in the paranormal.  Nevertheless, since this occurrence, George only uses the chapel as a shortcut when he is with a group of people.