For many years my brothers and sister and I had seen “something” in the old abandoned farm house on Little Cormorant Lake. Big Cormorant, Middle Cormorant and Little Cormorant were three lakes just west and south of Detroit Lakes in northwestern Minnesota. Trolling for Northern Pike would often take us to the back side of Sugar Island and into the little bay where the vacant house stood. Although now almost completely veiled by trees and other foliage, back in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s you could see the house fairly easily. And whenever good fishing, sunset, and a perfectly still evening intersected on that portion of the lake, as your eyes scanned the bay they always seemed to be drawn to the upstairs windows. And it was then that you swore something or someone was looking back at you. Even though it had been abandoned decades earlier, some sort of ethereal light invariably flickered through those window eyes once the sun had gone down. More than once when we had given up fishing for the evening and motored away from the bay, your eyes were convinced that you could see someone standing in the upstairs window. And they were looking back at you.
In July of 1997 my older brother Jan, my younger brother Kevin, our youngest sibling Lisa and myself were all together for a couple of days of relaxation at my parent’s lake home on Little Cormorant. Dad and Mom had first built a little cottage on the southeast corner of Sugar Island in the mid 70’s, but in the 80’s they turned it into a year-round home and sold their home in rural Moorhead. There are few things in life more beautiful and enjoyable than being on a Minnesota lake in the summer. The laughter of kids swimming and diving off the raft, fishing, water skiing, the July 4th boat parade, the smells of the lake and the sound of Loons were all elements that contributed to sort of a Terry Redlin Americana scene on the island.
Sitting on the deck after supper the talk always turned to how the boat was running, was the beaver dam across Cty Road 6 causing the lake level to rise again, and who’s doing what on the island. But that night it turned to the old abandoned farm house. We had always talked about checking it out after the sun had gone down to see what might be causing the ghostly light and shadowy figure in the upstairs window. Whether it was the fact that we four kids were rarely at my parent’s home at the same time or that we finally just figured we had to know what was going on, we somehow mustered up the courage to investigate the house…at night. We had gone to the house a number of times during the day to explore and look around. Mostly under decay, it was just a simple small two story house. When you pried open the front door you were very careful where you walked. The floor was rotting and sagging terribly. The stairway went about 8 steps and then turned immediately to the right. Upstairs were three bedrooms – with two of the bedrooms using a single adjoining closet (you could go from one bedroom to the other through the closet). Throughout the house plaster was falling down. The stale smell of oldness pervaded the entire dwelling. The basement was earthen and I can’t remember if you entered it through a trap door in the kitchen or through a cellar door outside. Maybe we should have, but we never did go down there
I remember that July night as though it were yesterday. It was perfectly still and warm. And it was a new moon which meant that there would be no light from the blackened sky to help illumine the bay and abandoned farmstead. The four of us were slathered with bug spray to try to at least repel a portion of the mosquito onslaught we knew would be awaiting us in the tall grass and bulrushes. My folk’s old black lab Max accompanied us. The five of us got into the boat and we began to motor the small aluminum fishing boat from the southeast corner of the island. Following the shoreline we made our way around the island and then to the bay to the northwest. About 100 yards from shore we killed the motor and began to silently paddle toward shore. The Navy Seals would have been proud of us. As I mentioned earlier I absolutely love the sounds and smells and sights of a Minnesota summer on the lake. Toward evening you could hear the Loons or see an occasional muskrat or beaver swimming or hear a distant boat trolling for pike. But this night I didn’t seem to notice any of that. About 20 yards out we all had to push with the oars against the thick mat of weeds to get close to the shore. It became darker and darker and a Londonish fog settled over the bay. When we reached the shoreline all four of us heard a low guttural growl coming from Max. Her hair on her back bristled as she stared toward the farmhouse. We were about 75 yards from the house but almost entirely hidden by the tall reeds. Jan whispered, “I see the light!” Each of us had flashlights but we didn’t use them. Kevin firmly gripped Max’s collar. My heart was hammering inside my chest and I am sure that my goose bumps had goose bumps.
For whatever reason we made our way toward the house in birth order order -- which meant Jan led, I was in the middle, Kevin was next, and Lisa followed. We didn’t do a military type low-crawl, but we kept as low as possible. Once we got within 50 feet of the house we stopped and sat down on the weeds and the brush. An owl hooted in the trees just to our right. It was dark but our eyes had adjusted enough so that we could see each other and we could see the whitish farmhouse. We looked into each other’s eyes. We were all terrified. Not only was Max’s hair still bristled, but I think our hair was standing on end also. Without talking we communicated that “I’m scared but I want to go in” look to each other.
Even though the hinges were laden with years of rust, the door actually opened pretty silently. Your eyes always play tricks on you; shadows can become a million different monsters. But something or someone was definitely upstairs. We clicked on one flashlight for the briefest of moments and quickly scanned the main floor. It was just the parlor/living room and the kitchen. Nothing. But as our Little Cormorant Navy Seals Team stood there petrified on the main floor, you could see the faintest of glows coming from somewhere upstairs.
In a slow compacted huddle we made our way to the second floor. We had to be exceptionally careful in the dark and on those creaking (and rotting) stairs. Kevin still had a good grip on Max. And we decided to stay together. I for one had seen to many scary movies where one of the actors decided to peel off on his or her own. And that’s the last you ever saw of them. We decided to work our way toward the bedroom that faced the lake – the one that we had seen the light in. The top of the stairs emptied into a short stubby hallway; to the right was one bedroom and to the left the other two. All three bedroom doors were closed. Nothing but blackness could be seen spilling out from under the doors of bedroom number one and bedroom number two.
But under the third doorway.
Frozen with fear all four of us just stared at the bottom of that door. Make that five of us. In the creepy darkness you could feel Max’s hair bristling on her neck. Again we heard her guttural growl, only it was louder. The ghostly light flickered as “something” moved across that path of light on the other side of the door. You could hear each of our hearts pounding with horror.
Jan hurriedly turned on the flashlight and pointed it toward the doorknob. It began to turn!
That was enough for us! Not worrying about any rotting boards, Kevin and Max tumbled down the stairs first, followed closely by Lisa and then Jan. I wanted to flee faster than they did but I was frozen and too terrified to turn away. I felt like I was living a nightmare. Jan yelled to me, “Danny, come on!”
I was shaking uncontrollably and in my fear had actually thrown my flashlight.
Jan came back up the stairs. “Danny…let’s go…NOWI
Somehow I forced myself to start to turn to go down the stairs when the door began to open! I knew I should have run but my eyes fixed in horror on that opening door. When I backed up into the darkened hallway and turned to go down the stairs I tripped and fell.
The door creaked open. The ghostly light spilled into the hallway. A silhouette moved toward the doorway.
I was scrambling to get to my feet and to the stairs when “something” grabbed my ankle.
“Jan! Kevin! Lisa!” Something’s grabbed my foot! It felt like the cold iron grip of a boney hand.
In the mayhem and terror and blackness I couldn’t believe this was happening.
I screamed to them again, “Help Me!”
Jan raced upstairs again, smashing his shin against one of the steps when he crashed through a rotted board. Kevin and Lisa flew back up the stairs with Max.
I was now sliding back toward the bedroom. “Something’s pulling my leg!” Something’s pulling my leg!
“Danny, what is it??”
“JAN, KEVIN, LISA – HELP ME!!! SOMETHING’S PULLING MY LEG!!!”
Just like I’m pulling yours :>)
Ok so most of this kinda sorta didn’t really happen that way. But there really was an abandoned farm house in that northwest bay on my folk’s lake. And even though it’s gone now, it was creepy! We went there a few times during the day to look around, and even then in the broad daylight it gave you the heebie geebies! (At least it did me anyway). I would not have spent the night there for a thousand dollars. And remember when I mentioned that the two bedrooms had an adjoining closet? One time when we went to explore the haunted house I went upstairs and so did my brother Kevin. He saw me go into one bedroom – and he went into the other. I made my way through the closet and hid just on the other side of the closed closet door in the OTHER bedroom. When he opened the door I went “Boo!” And he ALMOST fainted.
Knock knock!
Who’s there?
Boo!
Boo Who?
Don’t cry (over this pathetic story)
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2009
All Rights Reserved
In July of 1997 my older brother Jan, my younger brother Kevin, our youngest sibling Lisa and myself were all together for a couple of days of relaxation at my parent’s lake home on Little Cormorant. Dad and Mom had first built a little cottage on the southeast corner of Sugar Island in the mid 70’s, but in the 80’s they turned it into a year-round home and sold their home in rural Moorhead. There are few things in life more beautiful and enjoyable than being on a Minnesota lake in the summer. The laughter of kids swimming and diving off the raft, fishing, water skiing, the July 4th boat parade, the smells of the lake and the sound of Loons were all elements that contributed to sort of a Terry Redlin Americana scene on the island.
Sitting on the deck after supper the talk always turned to how the boat was running, was the beaver dam across Cty Road 6 causing the lake level to rise again, and who’s doing what on the island. But that night it turned to the old abandoned farm house. We had always talked about checking it out after the sun had gone down to see what might be causing the ghostly light and shadowy figure in the upstairs window. Whether it was the fact that we four kids were rarely at my parent’s home at the same time or that we finally just figured we had to know what was going on, we somehow mustered up the courage to investigate the house…at night. We had gone to the house a number of times during the day to explore and look around. Mostly under decay, it was just a simple small two story house. When you pried open the front door you were very careful where you walked. The floor was rotting and sagging terribly. The stairway went about 8 steps and then turned immediately to the right. Upstairs were three bedrooms – with two of the bedrooms using a single adjoining closet (you could go from one bedroom to the other through the closet). Throughout the house plaster was falling down. The stale smell of oldness pervaded the entire dwelling. The basement was earthen and I can’t remember if you entered it through a trap door in the kitchen or through a cellar door outside. Maybe we should have, but we never did go down there
I remember that July night as though it were yesterday. It was perfectly still and warm. And it was a new moon which meant that there would be no light from the blackened sky to help illumine the bay and abandoned farmstead. The four of us were slathered with bug spray to try to at least repel a portion of the mosquito onslaught we knew would be awaiting us in the tall grass and bulrushes. My folk’s old black lab Max accompanied us. The five of us got into the boat and we began to motor the small aluminum fishing boat from the southeast corner of the island. Following the shoreline we made our way around the island and then to the bay to the northwest. About 100 yards from shore we killed the motor and began to silently paddle toward shore. The Navy Seals would have been proud of us. As I mentioned earlier I absolutely love the sounds and smells and sights of a Minnesota summer on the lake. Toward evening you could hear the Loons or see an occasional muskrat or beaver swimming or hear a distant boat trolling for pike. But this night I didn’t seem to notice any of that. About 20 yards out we all had to push with the oars against the thick mat of weeds to get close to the shore. It became darker and darker and a Londonish fog settled over the bay. When we reached the shoreline all four of us heard a low guttural growl coming from Max. Her hair on her back bristled as she stared toward the farmhouse. We were about 75 yards from the house but almost entirely hidden by the tall reeds. Jan whispered, “I see the light!” Each of us had flashlights but we didn’t use them. Kevin firmly gripped Max’s collar. My heart was hammering inside my chest and I am sure that my goose bumps had goose bumps.
For whatever reason we made our way toward the house in birth order order -- which meant Jan led, I was in the middle, Kevin was next, and Lisa followed. We didn’t do a military type low-crawl, but we kept as low as possible. Once we got within 50 feet of the house we stopped and sat down on the weeds and the brush. An owl hooted in the trees just to our right. It was dark but our eyes had adjusted enough so that we could see each other and we could see the whitish farmhouse. We looked into each other’s eyes. We were all terrified. Not only was Max’s hair still bristled, but I think our hair was standing on end also. Without talking we communicated that “I’m scared but I want to go in” look to each other.
Even though the hinges were laden with years of rust, the door actually opened pretty silently. Your eyes always play tricks on you; shadows can become a million different monsters. But something or someone was definitely upstairs. We clicked on one flashlight for the briefest of moments and quickly scanned the main floor. It was just the parlor/living room and the kitchen. Nothing. But as our Little Cormorant Navy Seals Team stood there petrified on the main floor, you could see the faintest of glows coming from somewhere upstairs.
In a slow compacted huddle we made our way to the second floor. We had to be exceptionally careful in the dark and on those creaking (and rotting) stairs. Kevin still had a good grip on Max. And we decided to stay together. I for one had seen to many scary movies where one of the actors decided to peel off on his or her own. And that’s the last you ever saw of them. We decided to work our way toward the bedroom that faced the lake – the one that we had seen the light in. The top of the stairs emptied into a short stubby hallway; to the right was one bedroom and to the left the other two. All three bedroom doors were closed. Nothing but blackness could be seen spilling out from under the doors of bedroom number one and bedroom number two.
But under the third doorway.
Frozen with fear all four of us just stared at the bottom of that door. Make that five of us. In the creepy darkness you could feel Max’s hair bristling on her neck. Again we heard her guttural growl, only it was louder. The ghostly light flickered as “something” moved across that path of light on the other side of the door. You could hear each of our hearts pounding with horror.
Jan hurriedly turned on the flashlight and pointed it toward the doorknob. It began to turn!
That was enough for us! Not worrying about any rotting boards, Kevin and Max tumbled down the stairs first, followed closely by Lisa and then Jan. I wanted to flee faster than they did but I was frozen and too terrified to turn away. I felt like I was living a nightmare. Jan yelled to me, “Danny, come on!”
I was shaking uncontrollably and in my fear had actually thrown my flashlight.
Jan came back up the stairs. “Danny…let’s go…NOWI
Somehow I forced myself to start to turn to go down the stairs when the door began to open! I knew I should have run but my eyes fixed in horror on that opening door. When I backed up into the darkened hallway and turned to go down the stairs I tripped and fell.
The door creaked open. The ghostly light spilled into the hallway. A silhouette moved toward the doorway.
I was scrambling to get to my feet and to the stairs when “something” grabbed my ankle.
“Jan! Kevin! Lisa!” Something’s grabbed my foot! It felt like the cold iron grip of a boney hand.
In the mayhem and terror and blackness I couldn’t believe this was happening.
I screamed to them again, “Help Me!”
Jan raced upstairs again, smashing his shin against one of the steps when he crashed through a rotted board. Kevin and Lisa flew back up the stairs with Max.
I was now sliding back toward the bedroom. “Something’s pulling my leg!” Something’s pulling my leg!
“Danny, what is it??”
“JAN, KEVIN, LISA – HELP ME!!! SOMETHING’S PULLING MY LEG!!!”
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