The Ghosts of Fort Mifflin

Scary times, not scary friends

This past Friday, I ventured on a candlelight tour of Fort Mifflin, located down in no-man’s land near the Philadelphia airport. Seriously, there is like no civilization down in that part of the city. It’s eerie.

The candlelight tour begins with entering the fort and hearing the first tales of children playing on the field. We did not see any children. Okay, so standard ghost tour stuff — I can handle this, I think.

Then we arrived at the officers’ quarters, where the guide told us of a woman screaming into the night. Maybe the screaming woman is this person who lost a child to yellow fever. Perhaps it is another woman who also lost someone else she loved. No one knows.

Next, we heard stories of doors being taken off their hinges at the blacksmith in the middle of the night. We learned about more sightings, lots of death (specifically yellow death). You know, I’m not a diehard believer in ghosts, but at the same time, I’m beginning to get a little creeped out by all the dead people under our feet.

We get to the final casement, where we were warned of an old soldier who likes to fondle blond womens’ hair. GREAATTTTT. I convey to my friends my “excitement” about going into the room with all the spooky shit. The guide tells more stories and then asks if anyone has any questions. I’m sorry, let’s get out of the creepy-ass room, and then we can do questions, alright? I’m like inching by the second to get out of the door.