St. Augustine Lighthouse on Anastasia Island in Florida - Haunted by Children & Keepers of the Past 38:49

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There is not a town, city or province in the world that does not have a scary story or two to tell. People love a good thrill and to get their adrenaline pumping. Take a trip with me to these eerie places from across the world that include abandoned mansions, haunted houses, ghost towns, endless forests, petrifying hospitals and much more.

Our next destination is one of the most haunted places in Florida, a lighthouse more than 100 years old. Standing on the north end of Anastasia Island, overlooking Mantanzas Bay and the Atlantic Ocean, the lighthouse is a beacon for lost souls. Welcome to Destination Terror, your passport to the scariest places in the world.

From haunted hotels to locations of unexplained creature sightings, we will travel to places that will provide excitement, adventure and horror. Today we are discussing the St. Augustine Lighthouse in St. Augustine, Florida. There is more than just history that you may find when you enter this towering beacon of the night. So if you are into travel and all things scary, listen close and you might discover your next exciting adventure destination.

but hopefully not your final destination. Destination Terror is an EerieCast original podcast hosted by me, Carmen Carrion. If you would like to submit a suggestion or a story with your own experience, you can email them to carmencarrion at gmail.com. You can also follow me on Twitter or Instagram as Carmen Carrion.

If you enjoy the show, please follow on Rate Destination Terror on Spotify and Apple Podcasts to help us grow. Also check out eeriecast.com for more scary podcasts, such as Tales from the Break Room, featuring allegedly true and terrifying stories that happened on the job. It was all supposed to be a joke. At least that's what I intended. But the joke ended up being on me.

I wanted my summer to be exactly how I imagined it. Staying up all night online with my friends and sleeping all day. Basically, I would rarely have to deal with my parents. I am 13 and plenty old enough to stay alone. We live in the most boring town and the most boring neighborhood in Missouri, Ladue. The most that ever happens here is some drunk guy getting hauled in for passing out in the city park.

But my plans didn't matter to my parents. They still treated me like a baby and insisted I go everywhere they go. "It will be fun," they said. "You will make memories," they said. They were right about the second part. I did make some memories. My dad planned some cheesy family vacation every year. He reminded me of Clark from the 80s movie National Lampoon's Vacation.

I thought my dad was a loser. He was a middle-aged car salesman that had a disturbing obsession with old band t-shirts and tropical shorts. He called them his "summer bummers," whatever that means. Every year he planned a themed vacation. One summer it was Disney themed. We went on a Disney cruise and went to Disney World. That one wasn't so bad, but I was nine then.

Another summer it was outdoors only. That trip was horrible. We all came home covered in mosquito and tick bites after sitting in an overcrowded campground for a week. I couldn't wait to see what he had planned for this year. It would probably be farm themed or swamp themed. Who knows? Whatever he chooses, it will be horrible.

So, basically, I went into this trip with a bad attitude. And when my dad announced at dinner, the one meal that I always show up for, that he was taking us on a trip of horrors, I got a little excited. There was no way that I would let him know that, though. Of course, he had to invite my uncle Steve, his brother. He was a bigger loser than my dad.

He managed the only McDonald's in town, had a wife that never shut up, and his kids, well, let's just say, I think they were left here by aliens. We left on a Monday, and thank God we took more than one car, because I would have had to kill myself or my cousins if I had to spend 15 hours cramped up in a car with them. Our first destination was Tennessee, where we would visit a haunted prison, a witch cave, and the site of the bloodiest battle during the Civil War.

It sounded like a good lineup to me, and that meant a high potential for creepy and bloody stories. After Tennessee, we were going to head to Florida to see some lighthouses. I had never seen a real lighthouse and I was pretty excited. I had been fascinated by them since I was little, and anything else that had to do with the ocean but lighthouses the most. My dad said that the St. Augustine was supposed to be one of the most haunted places in the U.S.,

So I looked it up and sure enough, someone had even got full body pictures of a ghost. There were tons of sightings and freaky happenings on record. I kept my ears plugged with my earbuds most of the trip in an attempt to forget where I was and who I was with. I enjoyed Tennessee. The haunted prison was interesting to say the least.

The ride from there to Florida was mostly uneventful and boring. I tried to sleep as much as possible and since it rained most of the way, that was easy to accomplish except I kept having the sensation that someone was tapping me on the shoulder and when I would look over, I was, of course, alone in the back seat. We arrived in St. Augustine late Wednesday night. It was still raining and too dark to get a good look at the area.

Even after sleeping most of the way, I was more than ready to crawl into a real bed and pass out. That is just what I did too, without even bothering to change clothes. Dad made sure we were up bright and early the next morning so we could get an early start. The only problem was, he insisted we all take one car. So I was squeezed between my two large twinkie eating cousins for the duration of the ride there.

Being smashed was not the worst of it. They each smelled like a cheeseburger that got left in the car on a hot day. It was all I could do not to gag. We pulled in the lighthouse parking lot just as they were unlocking the doors. I was immediately in awe of the place as I looked up towards the Coppola where the beacon light was located. Their website said the Coppola was part of the guided tour, and I couldn't wait. Something moved next to the railing as I was looking, but the sun was in my eyes.

Using my hand to block the light, I could just barely make out a girl in a white dress. Her dress was blowing in the wind, which must be stronger from that high up. How did she get up there so fast when they had just unlocked the doors? I was still looking at her in wonder when my mom tugged on my t-shirt as an unspoken order to come on. The lighthouse was everything I hoped it would be. It was like stepping back in time.

When I first walked in, I noticed several 100 gallon drums used for storing oil. There were also some glass display cases encasing old lighthouse artifacts such as a huge wrench used years ago to help tighten anchor bolts that supported the tower. I was intrigued and wanted to take in everything, so I lost track of my group while reading an old list of lighthouse rules. A cold chill came over me and brought my attention back to my surroundings.

It was the same feeling you would get when stepping into a meat locker from a hot kitchen. The shift in temperature was that sudden. It was early June in Florida. I was wearing shorts and a thin tank top, but had still been breaking a sweat ever since getting out of the car. I looked around and realized that I was alone in the room. It was then that I realized I could hear my noisy family ascending the stairs that led to the top of the lighthouse.

Annoyed that they would reach the top first, I took off after them, only to be halted halfway up by the sound of giggling. I looked around and there was no one behind me and no one in front of me for as far as I could see. The cold chill hit me again. It was so strange. I would remember this later when I thought back. I reached the observation deck last. It was awe-inspiring. The view of the St. Augustine waterways in the town were breathtaking.

It was almost like I belonged there. I could see all kinds of boats floating in the harbor, but suddenly I felt a tug on my shirt again. I turned around expecting to find my mom nagging at me, but instead I saw a little girl. She had long wavy brown hair with ribbons on both sides. The dress she was wearing made her look like she was an extra in a movie based in the 1800s. She couldn't have been more than eight years old, and when I looked down at her, she smiled.

I was about to say hi, but she giggled and ran around the observation deck and out of sight. I followed until I had made the complete circle twice, but she was gone. Picking my head back inside, I looked down the winding stairwell, and there was no sign of her. That was impossible. There was no way she could be that fast. That is when I realized that my family had left me again.

Suddenly furious about their neglect, I forgot about the little girl and made my way back down the 219 steps to the bottom. I caught up with them just as they were exiting the lighthouse and shoved my way past everyone, making sure to bump into my cousins, hitting them hard with my shoulder. If they couldn't wait on me or even remember I was there, then I would take the lead and leave them behind.

I headed in a brisk walk towards the Keeper's house. I could hear my mother saying my name in her attempt at a threatening tone, but I carried on, ignoring her. The Keeper's house was full of exhibits that were truly interesting, but I could no longer see past my own fury. I walked to each display and feigned interest before moving on, deliberately keeping ahead of anyone else. At some point, I lost them again.

I was so distracted by the tantrum I was engulfed in, I didn't realize we had become separated again. Begrudgingly, I backtracked, calling them all stupid, horrible names in my mind. When I had searched the building thoroughly without any results, I took towards the exit where I saw them heading towards the car. Was I so unimportant that they didn't even notice they were leaving without me? That was the last straw. I would teach them a lesson.

They would see just what it would feel like not to be able to find me for a while. I turned and headed back inside the building, looking around for just the right place until I found a closet that had a sign on the door that read "Employees Only". Opening the door, I stepped inside. The room was a supply closet about the size of a small bathroom. I turned and shut the door behind me. It was dark, but I wasn't scared.

I had used this trick before to teach my parents lessons for as long as I could remember. I found a comfortable place under a shelf in the far corner, using several brooms to hide myself. I burrowed in as deep as I could and waited.

He's the most terrifying serial killer you've never heard of. Haddon Clark has confessed to several murders, but investigators say he could have over 100 victims. At the center of the mayhem, a cellmate of Haddon's that was able to get key evidence into Haddon's murder spree across America.

When many people imagine something scary, the first thing that comes to mind is a ghost story. Florida has an abundance of ghost stories to share and just as many haunted places to go with them.

One of the most well-known haunted places in Florida is the St. Augustine Lighthouse, located in the oldest city in the U.S., St. Augustine. For 140 years, the St. Augustine Lighthouse has presented its beacon to sailors along the nation's first coast. It's seen keepers and families come and go, witnessed the construction and removal of auxiliary structures, and adapted to new and innovative technologies, all while the community around it expands and evolves.

The story of the current St. Augustine Lighthouse begins with its predecessor. The current lighthouse in St. Augustine is not the original St. Augustine Lighthouse. The Spanish constructed the tower that became the first lighthouse in 1737. They used a naturally occurring stone called caquina to construct the original tower. The caquina tower replaced wooden watchtowers, the Spanish built dating back to the beginnings of Spanish Florida.

A map of Francis Drake's 1586 raid on St. Augustine reveals the presence of a small tower on Anastasia Island. The map refers to the tower as a beacon of high scaffolds standing on the sand hills, wherein the Spaniards did use to discover the ships at sea. The Coquina Tower continued this watchtower tradition until the United States acquired Florida in the Adams-Onis Treaty in 1821.

The US government then set to work illuminating the newly added coastline. St. Augustine with its pre-existing tower was a logical place to start. In 1823 John Rodman, collector of St. Augustine, wrote to Stephen Pleasanton, 5th Auditor of the US Treasury, that despite the tower's presence, it was never built for a lighthouse or used as one, but merely a lookout house.

The location is well suited, but a great proportion of the tower, nearly one half, is not sufficiently strong to bear any greater elevation, either if wood or stonework. Congress appropriated $5,000 to re-trophit and complete the lighthouse and awarded the contract to Elias Wallin, who reported on March 25, 1824, that the lighthouse was operational.

John Andro became first keeper of Florida's first official U.S. lighthouse in St. Augustine. His Minicron parents, Antonio and Aguita, arrived in Florida as indentured servants at Dr. Turnbull's New Smyrna Plantation in 1768 and traveled to St. Augustine by foot where they settled when Turnbull abandoned his settlement in 1777.

The Menorican became a visible minority in the city, contributing to its maritime culture as fishermen, pilots, and lighthouse keepers. Juan was the first of many Menorican keepers at the St. Augustine Lighthouse. As the first, he also holds the distinction of being the first Hispanic American to serve in the Coast Guard, and the first to oversee a federal installation of any kind.

Juan Andro served as keeper until 1845 and the records are unclear as to who took over and served as lighthouse keeper from 1845 to 1849 Juan Carrera served as keeper from 1849 until his death in 1853 Robert Mickler then served temporarily for six months before Juan Andro's cousin Joseph or Jose Andro took over light keeping duties in 1854

Joseph attended the light until tragedy struck when the scaffolding from which he was painting the tower failed. The December 10, 1859 edition of the St. Augustine Examiner tells that Joseph "first struck the roof of the oil room about thirty feet below. Whence he glanced off and struck the stone wall which encloses the lighthouse, and thence to the ground, killing him instantly."

Maria, his wife, served as lighthouse keeper in St. Augustine until authorities darkened the tower during the Civil War to hinder the Union Navy off Florida's coast. As the city's collector of customs, Paul Arnault oversaw the removal of the lighthouse Fresnel Lens in January 1861, per Confederate orders. Serving as mayor of St. Augustine from November 1861 to March 1862, Arnault resigned rather than surrender the city to Union forces.

Northern troops arrested Arnault and sequestered him on the Union gunboat Isaac Smith until he revealed the location of the lighting mechanisms for the St. Augustine Light and other lighthouses in the area, including Cape Canaveral. Relit on June 1, 1867, the old tower served St. Augustine until its proximity to the eroding shoreline threatened its ability to serve its maritime community. A taller, sturdier modern tower was needed.

The St. Augustine Lighthouse is the oldest structure in the city and America's first lighthouse. Built between 1871 and 1874, the lighthouse is still an active working lighthouse. It continues to guide ships today and serves as a museum, but with age comes death. During its 100 years of existence, many lives have been lost in or around the landmark's grounds.

This leads us to believe that those who perished were never truly left. The most famous ghost story is of the tragedy of the children of Hezekiah Pitti. In 1873, only the foundation and 42 feet of the 165 tower were completed. A railway cart was used to move supplies from supply ships to the building site. Riding the cart down to the water was a favorite pastime for the four Pitti children.

They used the cart as a Victorian-era roller coaster. They would ride it down to the water and bring it back up to the site to ride again. There was a wooden board at the end of the tracks that was intended to stop it from tipping over into the water. On July 10, 1873, the unthinkable happened.

Three of the pity children, Mary aged 15, Eliza 13, and Carrie 4, along with an unknown African-American girl, whose father may have worked on the site, went for a ride in the cart as usual. Unknown to the children, the board meant to stop the cart was not in place. When the cart reached the bottom of the track, it flipped into the water. The girls were trapped underneath.

A young worker witnessed the horrific event and raced to the water. He lifted the cart off the girls but was too late. Three of the four girls drowned. The only survivor was the youngest, Carrie. In the days following the accident, the town shut down for the girls' funerals. The family afterwards traveled to their home in Maine to lay the girls to rest. The final resting place of the African American girl is unknown to this day.

It has been more than 140 years since the accident, and there have been countless unusual occurrences, many of which have been contributed to the girls. In the 1950s, a lighthouse keeper reported hearing footsteps upstairs, but upon investigation, no one was there. James Pippin was the head lighthouse keeper at that time. He served from 1953 to 1955. He was the last keeper to actually live there.

Pippin initially lived in the Keeper's house. All the previous Keepers had lived there. Eventually, swearing that the Keeper's house was haunted, he refused to live there another night. In 1955, the lighthouse lamp was fully automated. The lighthouse Keeper's job was then replaced by the lamplighter. Lamplighters did not live on site. As a result, the Keeper's house was rented out for a time. A local man who had made leather goods rented the house during the 60s.

He would tell the story of waking up one night to see a small girl standing next to his bed. When he blinked his eyes to get a better look, she disappeared. After standing empty for many years, in 1970 the Keeper's house burned under mysterious circumstances. The home was gutted and all that was left was the basement and some charred timbers.

Upon being purchased by St. John's County, the property was declared to be unsafe. The county planned to demolish it. However, a group of women from the All-Volunteer Junior Service League of St. Augustine helped raise the money to renovate it. The renovation took 15 years. During the renovation, many construction workers and Junior Service League workers reported numerous unexplained happenings. The basement seemed to be an active area for ghostly encounters.

It had, after all, been the only part of the original home that had not burned. Theory has it that the children may have liked to play there. Some say you can still feel a spooky presence in the place. The spirits seemed to be playful, as a child would. At closing one evening, a lighthouse employee was closing for the night when he heard giggling. The sound was coming from the top of the tower.

When he climbed to the top to inspect, thinking someone may have gotten left up there, he found it empty. There was another instance where a female guest, who had paused at the bottom of the stairs, tried to take a step and realized that her shoelace had been tied to the staircase. Today, the St. Augustine Lighthouse, a maritime museum, serves as a scenic and educational maritime museum.

It stands 165 feet above sea level, overlooking the Mantanzas Bay and the Atlantic Ocean from Anastasia Island. Visitors can climb the 219 steps to the top of the St. Augustine Lighthouse for a spectacular view of the city and ocean. Those who visit will discover St. Augustine's maritime past as they learn about the history of the lighthouse.

Visitors experience life at a light station through the many exhibits in the Keeper's House, learn how the lighthouse served to protect our coast in World War II, and learn about shipwrecks and the important work by marine archaeologists who work at the lighthouse. In addition, the grounds feature a natural hammock, children's play area, demonstrations on boat building, and more. The gift shop offers a unique array of nautical and local souvenirs and does not need a ticket for access.

Still an active aid to navigation, the St. Augustine Lighthouse and Maritime Museum, Inc. is a private, non-profit museum dedicated to its mission to discover, preserve, present, and keep alive the stories of the nation's oldest port, as symbolized by our working St. Augustine Lighthouse. The museum is an American alliance of museums accredited institution and a Smithsonian affiliate.

The museum also hosts weddings on the front lawn of the Lighthouse Keeper's House. Wedding packages include admission to the Lighthouse, a museum where guests can climb the steps. Free parking is available at the museum. The museum is closed on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day. It is located on Anastasia Island on the road around the corner from the fire station, across from the Alligator Farm.

The museum offers three specialty tours. The first is the Sunset Moonrise Tour, where guests can enjoy drinks and appetizers while they watch the sunset and the moon rise over the ancient city from the top of St. Augustine Lighthouse. The second is the Dark of Moon Tour. This exclusive guided paranormal tour is the only after dark tour of the lighthouse.

Guests can learn the ghostly history behind the light station and the Keeper's House, conduct their own paranormal investigation, and ascend the 219 steps for a nighttime view of the nation's oldest city. The last tour is the exclusive Lens Rooms Tour. Visitors can indulge in a premium and personal tour behind the scenes of the St. Augustine Lighthouse and Maritime Museum, with special access to the Lens Room.

If you want to hunt ghosts or experience the chills that seem to come with encountering a spirit, the St. Augustine Lighthouse is at the top of my list of places to visit. I had been waiting for a while, but I knew from experience that you had to be patient when you disappeared deliberately. You must first give them time to realize you're gone. You then must give them time to search long enough to work themselves up into a panic.

I was a pro at this sort of thing, but I didn't calculate in what would happen next. I fell asleep. I don't know how long I slept. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. But when I woke, the closet was completely dark. The small sliver of light that had shone from beneath the door was even gone. My heart immediately began to pound against my chest. I had lost my desire for revenge. I tried to stand and banged my head on the shelf.

finally clearing the shelves I stood, sending the brooms and other things tumbling down all around me. I slid my hands along the walls, tripping over the unseen obstacles the whole time, and to my relief my hand finally found the doorknob. I twisted it roughly, but it was locked. I was trapped. I felt stupid and childish, but mostly I felt scared.

I had never been claustrophobic, but suddenly it was hard to breathe, and as the feeling of suffocation became overwhelming, I began pounding on the door, screaming for help with what breath I could muster. I was in a full-blown panic when I heard, from behind me. I went completely silent and slowly turned, half expecting to see a hideous beast with bloody claws waiting to rip me to shreds.

But instead, I found the little girl from the observation deck. The closet was completely absent of light, but I could see her. It was almost as if she glowed. She had her finger to her lips. I stared at her, stunned and almost fainted when a second, smaller little girl stepped out from behind her, holding her hand. The girls were devoid of color, as if they were part of an old black and white movie.

The smaller one seemed shy and scared, clinging to the hem of the older girl's dress. I nearly jumped completely out of my skin when the older one spoke. "You have to be quiet, or he will hear you." She reached around me and grabbed the doorknob, turning it. It twisted and the door opened without hesitation. I watched as she stepped out into the main room of the keeper's house, still holding the hand of the younger girl.

"Follow us and be very quiet. He doesn't like all the visitors, and if he finds you here alone, he may hurt you," she warned. I had no idea what she was talking about, but as I followed her out into the open, I could see that it was night. I must have slept well past dark. My parents would be worried sick. That had been my intention, but not to this degree.

She led me to the front door where the exit was, but the door was locked and not even she could open it. We went to each exit and tried each door. They were all locked tight. I noticed the little girl was still clinging to her, watching me warily. When she caught me looking at her, she popped her thumb into her mouth and hid her face. I was watching her curiously and had yet to speak myself. I think I must have been in shock.

It was as if I knew what was going on but had no control over my surroundings or my own tongue for that matter. A man's angry howl broke the silence and we all three jumped. There was a crash like someone had shattered a wooden table with a sledgehammer. My heart felt as if it was trying to burst out of my chest. I turned to see the girls had taken off down a dark hallway. I was about to follow when they began to fade like a mist in a breeze.

They were there one moment and then gone the next. The howl had turned into a moan and as I turned my attention back to it, I could hear a dragging sound. It was getting louder and louder. It was heading right for me. I turned and grabbed the doorknob in a terrified panic. It still wouldn't budge. I looked around the room and saw a window. I ran to it and tried to pry it open, but it was sealed shut.

I was looking for something, anything that I could break the glass with, when I felt a cold air begin to creep across my neck. Goosebumps crawled from my neck down my arms. The room had gone silent, except for the heavy icy breaths that now sounded in my ears and flowed across my bare skin. I was afraid to turn around, but I had no choice. I had nowhere to go.

Slowly I turned, and for a second, it felt like time stood still. His face was right in front of me. His eyes were empty sockets. His skin white and mottled gray hung loose from his cheeks. He had a noose wrapped around his neck, and as I watched, long bony fingers reached up to grab me by my throat.

I opened my mouth to scream, and as I did, the ungodly screams of this creature joined my own. Terror, depletion, or shock, I don't know which, but something caused the room to suddenly be filled with a blinding light. And just as quickly, my world went dark. A pounding in my head woke me. Disoriented, I looked around the room. The light was on, and I could see a stranger standing beside me.

It was a security guard. He was holding a flashlight, a very bright shining flashlight. He called my parents and they were overwhelmed with relief to find me safe. They should have punished me. I would have deserved it, but they didn't. My mom told my dad that she was sure the experience was less than enough. She had no idea how right she was.

Thank you for joining us to explore the St. Augustine Lighthouse. Be sure to tune in next time as I take you to Elkhorn, Wisconsin, where we will search for the Beast of Bray Road. I'm Carmen Carrion. Remember, you can send me suggestions and stories of haunted places to my email, carmencarrion at gmail.com or follow me on Twitter at Carmen Carrion. Be sure to check out eeriecast.com for more terrifying podcasts.

I'll see you all again at the next destination.