Augusta isn’t Savannah. We don’t have the “most haunted city in America” label, but don’t be fooled—Augusta has its share of restless spirits. This city is layered with history, and where there’s history, there’s always a chance of something lingering just out of sight.

If you search online for haunted places in Augusta, you will find the same list: Augusta University, Ezekiel Harris House, Sibley Mills… the usual suspects. Everyone knows about those. I wrote about them a couple of years ago.

For this edition, I am leaving behind the obvious landmarks. I wanted to give the spotlight to other, less-known locations. The reason I picked these locations is because they have a fascinating story behind it. But they also share something in common—paranormal activity.

Pendleton King Park

The tragic story of Pendleton King Park dates far back to recent events.

John Pendleton King was a high achiever—lawyer, judge, senator, and businessman. He first bought the Bugg Plantation in 1842.

After the senator’s death, the house was passed down to his only son, Henry. Growing up rich, the heir’s lifestyle was extravagant. He soon was known for throwing lavish parties. His gatherings drew Augusta’s wealthiest to the Sand Hill.

One fateful night, during one of his many celebrations, the main house was consumed by fire. The party was dislocated to the outside. The devastating fire was not an impediment. Legend tells us they continued to party, watching the mansion burn down to the ground to the sound of music.

Henry and his wife vowed to rebuild the grand home once their only child, John Pedleton King II, returned from his post as an Army Liaison Officer in Paris.

But fate had other plans.

Soon after John returned, one cold afternoon, while walking the property, he heard desperate screams coming from the pond. Two women were drowning. He jumped into the icy water and managed to pull one to safety. The other never made it.

The hero didn’t escape the ordeal unscathed. Days later, he developed pneumonia and died the following week. His parents, heartbroken, never rebuilt their home.

Perhaps grief lingered still.

In recent years, there have been several reports of ghostly sightings. Park visitors whisper of strange encounters near Bugg Family Cemetery. A woman in a white coat glides silently through the trees before vanishing.

Others claim that on still nights, where the great house once stood, you can hear the echoes of long-forgotten festivities — the swell of music, the clink of glasses, and laughter that carries through the dark.

Sadly, the tragedy didn’t end in the 19th century. In May 2024, Pedlenton King Park once again became the scene of a heartbreak when a murder suicide took place in the otherwise peaceful park.

Some say the land remembers every sorrow, from the fire that devoured the mansion to the grief of a family pond-side, to the violence that still haunts its quiet paths today.

The Resurrection Man of Augusta

The story of the Resurrection Man is one of the most chilling tales this city has to tell. It is the legend of a man forced into the shadows to dig up the dead so others could learn how to heal the living. If this doesn’t give you chills, nothing will.

In 1852, the Medical College of Georgia faced a problem: how to train the future doctors without bodies to dissect. Back in those days, it was illegal to remove remains from a grave. Even for educational purposes.

As a solution, the college purchased Grandison Harris, a slave man, for the sole purpose of robbing graves.

Living amongst scholars, he was taught how to read. Every day, he checked the obituaries and made plans. As the sun hid behind the horizon, Harris slipped into the Cedar Grove cemetery with a shovel and a sack in hand. He prowled around the graves searching for his next target.

Going for the fresh graves, he would dig up at the head and break through the casket to pull the fresh corpse. By the time he was done, it looked as if nothing had happened.

After becaming a free man, Grandison was hired by the college, so he could continue practicing his craft.

To the medical students, he was essential. But to many, he was a feared presence who profited from violating sacred ground.

Harris died in 1911. He was buried at the Cedar Grove Cemetery, where he once unearthed the dead.

Some say that many of the restless spirits of the disturbed dead still wander near Old Town and Cedar Grove cemeteries.

Others whisper that when the October wind cuts cold across the old stones, and the moonlight shines through the tree canopies, Grandison wanders around checking freshly dug graves. Other times, a shadow can be seen bent low, with a shovel in hand, clawing at the earth.

If you ever dare to go into one of those cemeteries at night, keep your eyes and ears open for a sighting that might change your life forever.

The Legend of Wylly Barron

Before becoming abandoned and crime-infested, the Atkinson Hotel was once a booming business. Located just a few blocks down from Broad Street, in the late 1800s, it was a hot spot.

Willy Barron, the owner, was an astute businessman who took a different approach to gambling. The card tables at his hotel were always full. Legends tell us he created great wealth from his trade. Some would even venture to say that his ways, at first, were less than ethical.

But Barron’s life took a drastic turn after what seemed to be a normal night. The hotel was buzzing as it usually did. Money was flowing in.

After losing everything, one customer became irate. A brawl broke out, and the angry gambler was removed. But not before shouting a curse at the owner, whom he blamed for his predicament.

“When you die, may you not even have a grave to shelter you.”

The gambler tragically committed suicide later that night, leaving Barron spooked.

After this event, Wylly became superstitious about gambling. He established severe rules, barring those with low wages from gambling at his tables. Secretly, he donated to multiple charities, claiming to be fearful of the afterlife.

As a precautionary measure, decades before his death, he had a large marble mausoleum built at Magnolia Cemetery. Sadly, at the end of his life, he died penniless.

On his death, Wylly demanded that his body should be sealed in his mausoleum.

Today, Wylly Barron’s mausoleum still stands at the oldest cemetery in Augusta. If you happen to visit it, you will notice something odd about it. It has no doors. His remains were sealed.

Visitors to the cemetery have claimed hearing noises inside the tomb. But the lack of doors makes you wonder what it could be. Others have reported seeing an old, grumpy man by the gravesite.

Conclusion

As we enter the spooky season, when the temperatures drop and the Halloween decorations cover our lawns, remember: the veil between the worlds is thin. In October, apparitions and unseen disturbances become the norm.

So, if you walk these streets on a cold October night, keep your eyes and ears open. The next laugh you hear in the dark, the next shadow at the corner of your eyes might just be a message from the other side.