There’s a reason the Old South Pittsburgh Hospital (OSPH) has earned its reputation as one of Tennessee’s most haunted places. After spending an evening investigating its dark, abandoned halls, I’ve taken time to reflect on the events we witnessed. Much like my first investigation at the Lowery House in Huntsville, I approached the evening with curiosity but held onto a healthy dose of skepticism. Joined by my friend Lee and his daughter, we explored OSPH alongside nearly 40 others, guided by the Southern Ghost Girls. We encountered moments that seemed to defy explanation, from eerie sensations to strange sounds.
To let you draw your own conclusions, I’ve decided to split my experience into two parts. In this first blog, I’ll recount the night’s events as they unfolded, leaving you to interpret what you will. In the second, I’ll share my perspective, exploring whether these experiences can be explained by natural causes or if they suggest something more. Perhaps OSPH truly holds something beyond explanation, or maybe it’s all tricks of the mind. Either way, the question remains: what would you see in the dark?
The Old South Pittsburgh Hospital was built in 1959 to serve the small South Pittsburg, Tennessee community. With 68 beds, an emergency department, and intensive care units, it provided essential care for nearly 40 years, treating everything from routine illnesses to traumatic emergencies. The hospital was built on land with a deep history, once inhabited by Native American tribes and involved in Civil War activity, with a natural spring flowing beneath it. After closing its doors in 1998, the hospital’s abandoned halls became the focus of ghost stories, drawing paranormal investigators nationwide. Over time, the Old South Pittsburg Hospital Paranormal Research Center (OSPHPRC) was established here, transforming it into a hub for paranormal research and investigations. With its lingering atmosphere and historical intrigue, OSPH has become a magnet for seekers of the unexplained — and that’s exactly what brought me here.
What was our strategy for hunting ghosts? We relied on two methods: observing our surroundings for anything unusual and asking yes/no questions to engage with potential spirits. We stayed alert for odd occurrences all evening, keeping our eyes and ears open for visual anomalies or unexplained sounds. I used my phone to record audio and video throughout the sessions, hoping to catch anything we might miss in real-time. We also employed various tools — REM pods, K2 meters, spirit boxes, flashlights, dowsing rods, and a Tempest device — to help interpret responses and detect subtle environmental changes. Each device offered a unique way to track potential signs of paranormal activity, giving us multiple angles to investigate the unknown. As the night progressed, we used these methods in several intriguing ways.
Our first session of the evening took place in the hospital’s dark, powerless cafeteria. Here, we tried the human pendulum, a technique some believe allows spirits to communicate by subtly influencing a volunteer’s movements. The spirit responds to yes/no questions by gently shifting the volunteer’s body — leaning forward for “yes” and backward for “no.” I stood in front of her in case she fell forward, while another person stood behind her to catch her if she leaned too far back. As the session progressed, the group interpreted the yes/no responses as coming from a former nurse. It was during this interaction that something unusual happened to me.
While preparing to catch the volunteer, I raised my arms, and my skin started to tingle as the hair on my hands and arms stood up. I wasn’t touching her; my arms were just getting closer to her. The sensation disappeared as soon as I lowered them, and every time I repeated the movement, it happened again. After the questioning ended and the spirit was told to leave, I raised my arms again, but the sensation was gone. I asked the pendulum volunteer and the person behind her if they had felt anything similar, but neither had. The person behind her wore a jacket covering his arms, which might have made a difference. I’m still unsure what to think — it left me wondering if there was more to it than I first thought.
After the human pendulum session, we divided into three groups, each exploring different floors of the hospital. Our group headed to the third floor, where we had some intriguing experiences in Nellie’s room. Nellie, a woman who had dementia, had been abandoned at the hospital. She spent her final days on the third floor and eventually passed away there.
We set up REM pods, flashlights, and several K2 meters in her room. The REM pods emit sounds and light when something — believed to be a spirit — comes near. Similarly, the K2 meters flash from green to yellow to red when they detect an electromagnetic disturbance, which some think might indicate a spirit’s presence. We set the flashlight on the verge of turning on, making it easy for a spirit to manipulate. During our time in the room, the K2 meters continually flashed yellow, suggesting a possible trigger. Many participants believed this was a sign that Nellie’s spirit was present. However, there was no correlation between the questions asked and the K2 meter flashes. Meanwhile, the flashlight and REM pods remained inactive throughout the session.
The lead investigator then suggested that dowsing rods might yield better results. A volunteer held the rods while the group asked questions. Interestingly, the rods did seem to respond, moving in ways that some interpreted as answers. Through the questions, the team believed they had connected with Nellie’s spirit. They concluded that she was the only spirit in the room and was happy to communicate. The room had several dolls, which we were told Nellie liked to play with. The investigator asked if Nellie could point the rods toward her favorite doll. The rods shifted toward both the bed and the bookshelf, where dolls were located.
Further responses suggested that Nellie had not enjoyed her time at the hospital, did not miss her family, and felt mistreated by them in her later years. At the end of the session, the volunteer holding the rods asked Nellie for a hug. In response, the rods rotated inward, gently touching the volunteer’s shoulders as if mimicking an embrace from Nellie herself.
Amid our attempts to reach Nellie, there was also a curious moment before we began using the dowsing rods. While we were asking questions, several people in the room reported hearing a low moan. I didn’t hear it then, but I was recording audio of the session. After reviewing the recording, I noticed a faint, distinct sound. Those who heard it live described it as a masculine moan. It only happened once, but it stood out. I’ve included the audio segment below.
After exploring a couple of other rooms on the third floor without much activity, we took a short break in the hospital lobby. After regrouping, we proceeded up the stairs to the second floor. As we walked, the lead investigator shared a story about what had happened ten minutes earlier when she and another investigator stepped out of the stairwell into the Nurses’ Station. A laser grid had been set up there, projecting tiny laser dots onto the walls and floor to reveal any movement that might interrupt the pattern.
The lead investigator recounted the experience in detail. “When I looked through the doorway,” she explained, “I saw a shadow cross in front of me and block out the grid. I told Kate, ‘Something just blocked out the grid,’ so she leaned in to take a look, and we tried to get it to happen again. As she leaned in, I turned around—and there it was, a shadow standing right behind her in the doorway. Then, just like that, it disappeared.”
Hoping to witness something similar ourselves, we attempted to get the shadow to reappear but had no success. Experiences like these give the Nurses’ Station a haunting reputation. Whether the area hides something unknown or simply stirs the imagination, one thing is certain — this part of the hospital leaves you feeling like you’re never entirely alone. With that experience in mind, we continued to the infamous Shadow Hall.
Shadow Hall, a narrow corridor on the second floor, is known for its eerie atmosphere—many who enter report a strong sense of being watched. Shadow figures are frequently seen here, darting across the hallway or lingering near doorways, only to disappear when approached. Many leave Shadow Hall feeling that its shadows conceal more than just darkness.
When we arrived at Shadow Hall, the corridor stretched before us, cloaked in darkness. As we peered down the hall, several people claimed to see something poking out from one of the doorways — a shadowy form barely breaking the blackness. At first, I saw only darkness, no distinct shapes or movement. But then I looked again and saw a short shadow stepping out from a room. A couple of others saw it, too. I blinked, questioning whether I’d seen a shadow figure or if my eyes were adjusting. Our lead investigator walked down the corridor to place a REM pod near where the shadow had appeared, hoping to detect any lingering presence. We waited in tense silence, but the REM pod never went off. Shadow Hall, it seemed, was determined to keep its secrets hidden.
After exploring Shadow Hall, we took another break before heading to our final location: Jim’s room on the first floor. Jim was once a caretaker at the hospital, a man who knew every corner of its halls and who, in the end, passed away there. Known for his love of cigarettes, candy, playing cards, and classic rock, Jim has become something of a legend among investigators. In an attempt to draw his presence, we placed his favorite items around the room — trigger objects intended to invite his spirit to respond. Alongside these, we set up several K2 meters, REM pods, and a flashlight around the room.
Almost immediately, the K2 meters began to flash yellow and red, as if Jim had joined us. In this room, we used a new piece of communication equipment — a tipping table. The table had a cast iron base and a heavy marble Lazy Susan top. Participants placed their fingertips lightly on the surface, with the idea that the spirit would rotate the tabletop through them, similar to how a spirit might guide a planchette on an Ouija board. I took my seat, fingertips barely touching its cool surface, while others in the room began asking questions.
At first, nothing happened. The table remained perfectly still, the silence almost thick in the dim room. But we could feel and see it after a few minutes — a subtle yet undeniable movement. The tabletop began to rotate ever so slowly, as though Jim was testing the connection. Encouraged by this response, our lead investigator played classic rock music from her phone, a nod to Jim’s love for the genre. The effect was instant and electric. The K2 meters flared to life, flashing yellow and red in sync with the beat as if Jim were grooving with us. The flashlight, too, seemed to respond, turning on and off in a steady rhythm, pausing briefly between each glow. For a solid fifteen minutes, the room pulsed with energy, every flicker and flash adding to the sense that Jim was indeed with us. The video captures this scene, showing the K2 meters flashing and the flashlight turning on and off with no one near them. The sound is muted because we were playing Sweet Home Alabama, and I don’t have permission to play it.
As midnight approached, we reluctantly began to wind down, yet the sense of connection lingered — a feeling that Jim’s spirit, stirred by music and memory, had joined us for one last song.
Reflecting on the night, I got the impression that most of the people attending believed we were connecting with spirits. For them, each flicker, flash, and faint sound seemed like a confirmation of the supernatural. By recounting these experiences as they happened, I invite you to decide: were we truly reaching out to those who once walked the hospital halls, or was it simply the power of suggestion at work? While I can’t say for sure that we experienced something supernatural, I remain skeptical. In my next blog, I’ll take you through my interpretation of what might really have been happening that night. Whether you believe in spirits or not, I hope you’ll find my analysis as thought-provoking as the experience itself.
To find out more about the Southern Ghost Girls and stay updated on where they’ll be investigating next, check out their website.
For more details about the Old South Pittsburgh Hospital and information on how you can experience an investigation there, head over to their website.