As Halloween approaches and cool air settles into the valley, the hills and hollows of Vinton and Roanoke seem to come alive with whispers from another time. The lights of the Roanoke Star twinkle over a city built on stories — some written in history books, others passed along by candlelight.
This year, we’ve gathered a few of the most talked-about haunted places close to home. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, the lore is part of what makes our valley so rich with character.
Jeters Chapel & Brethren Cemetery — Vinton
The most widely mentioned haunted site in Vinton is Jeters Chapel, built in 1865 and sitting beside the quiet Brethren Cemetery. Locals say that, on certain misty nights, a man in a white robe can be seen floating in the middle of the graveyard.
Some visitors describe a glowing figure that vanishes the moment they draw near. Others report sudden chills, or the feeling of being watched among the gravestones.
For years, people have debated whether it’s a lingering spirit, a trick of light, or just the imagination working overtime in the fog-covered hills.
The Patrick Henry Hotel — Downtown Roanoke
Few places in the region carry as much history — or mystery — as the Patrick Henry Hotel. Built in the 1920s, it has served as a hotel, apartment building, and local landmark. Guests and maintenance workers alike have reported unexplained footsteps, lights turning on and off, and voices echoing down empty hallways.
One recurring story tells of an elderly woman seen sitting alone in a chair, only to fade away when approached. Another tale centers on a ballroom where faint music plays after midnight, long after any event has ended.
The Haunted House on Huntington — Roanoke
This story comes from a longtime Roanoke resident — a friend we’ll call Henry — who swears every word is true.
The house sits on the 100 block of Huntington Boulevard off Williamson Road, and from the day he bought it, strange things began happening. When Henry first walked in to inspect the empty home, a door slammed downstairs — once and never again. He chalked it up to air pressure, but over time the coincidences grew darker.
After moving in with his fiancée and two young daughters, the family began to hear voices. One of the girls, only six years old, repeated words no child should know — including curse words and one she couldn’t possibly have learned, whispered by what she said was “the man in the house.”
Electronics began to act strangely. Phone calls were filled with ghostly interference and voices bleeding through. Henry began suffering sleep paralysis, waking frozen and sensing a presence pressing against his back. The whole home felt heavy, cold, and oppressive.
One night, he and his fiancée saw what looked like their daughter standing in the hallway near the bathroom. When Henry got up to check, both of his real daughters were sound asleep in their beds.
It got worse. After the breakup, Henry stayed alone in the house and moved his bed to a room on the main level facing the neighbor’s home. Curious about the house’s history, he began recording audio at night.
He’d been told a woman named Alice, a kind Native American lady, once lived and died there. One night, half-jokingly, Henry called out:
“I’m just moving my stuff into this room if that’s OK.”
A soft female voice replied, clear and distant:
“Okay.”
The response echoed from the empty adjoining room.
The next night, something unseen pushed him in bed, leaving red marks down his back like fingernails. The next morning, shaken, he stepped outside — and before he could even ask his neighbor if she’d ever noticed anything strange, she interrupted:
“Yes! Yes — it’s haunted. You don’t need to ask.”
She explained that Alice’s spirit was often seen watching from the very window of Henry’s bedroom. But, she said, Alice wasn’t malevolent — she was protecting the house from other, darker spirits.
According to the neighbor, the property had been a group home in the past. A man had overdosed there; another died in a car accident between the houses. She claimed four or five spirits moved between their homes.
The final shock came that winter. When a pipe burst behind the upstairs bathroom wall — the same one near where the little girl apparition was first seen — contractors cut into the wall and uncovered a hidden room.
Inside were old wooden medical supplies, boxes of 1940s-era instruments, and a tall IV stand. The upstairs had once been an attic converted to bedrooms, but behind that wall was a forgotten corner of the original space. The discovery was so unnerving they simply sealed it back up.
Henry moved out soon after. To this day, he believes Alice was the house’s protector — driving out the dangerous entities while keeping watch over anyone who dared to live there.
The haunted house on Huntington remains a chilling piece of Roanoke folklore — never reported publicly until now.
The Woman in Black — Roanoke’s Timeless Spirit
Dating back to the early 1900s, old newspaper accounts described a mysterious woman dressed entirely in black appearing along quiet city streets. Witnesses said she would follow men walking home, vanish around corners, or whisper names that no one else could have known.
Her legend became so well known that even the city’s early lawmen were called to investigate — though she was never caught, and never explained. Over a century later, people still claim to see her on dark, rainy nights near downtown.
The Grandin Theater & Old Patterson Avenue Homes
In the Grandin neighborhood, stories persist of ghostly laughter and footsteps echoing through the aisles of the Grandin Theater after closing time. Projectionists over the years have claimed to see shadows in the upper balcony or hear the sound of a child crying when the building is empty.
Meanwhile, on Patterson Avenue, older residents recall tales of an old house that once served as both a residence and funeral parlor. Before it was torn down, investigators reportedly discovered unmarked graves beneath the basement floor — and some believe that’s why the area still feels uneasy at night.
Why the Valley’s Ghosts Linger
Maybe it’s the way the fog hangs low over the mountains or the history buried under every brick and field. Whatever the reason, the Roanoke Valley’s ghost stories have endured for generations — passed from grandparents to grandchildren, keeping local history alive through whispers and goosebumps.
Even skeptics admit there’s something magnetic about the idea that the past might still walk among us.
Do You Know of Other Haunted Places?
We’re gathering stories from across the valley to map out the Haunted Roanoke Trail — from Jeters Chapel to the downtown hotel, and now the haunted house on Huntington.
👉 Have you experienced something you couldn’t explain in Vinton, Roanoke, or nearby?
Share your story in the comments below or send it to us directly. You might just see your tale featured on next updated Roanoke Valley Ghost Map.