"There is a little old abandon cabin in the mountains of North Georgia that is haunted by the ghost of a famous author. This was his writing cabin & the last book he was working on made him mad and he took his own life. He wasn't found for weeks. This spirit is very violent and just wants to be left alone! Tresspassers beware!"

First off, we verified with the local authories that a suicide did in fact take place.
I cannot give you any specifics due to the families privacy.

It was a warm July morning when I met the family for coffee at a small diner / gas station combination high in the mountains of north Georgia. A couple miles down from where we sat, runs a tiny unpaved and unmarked road. This road I would later find out is a private 3 mile driveway that leads only to one place, a delapitaded old shack in the woods.

Stories of this cabin are not hard to find around the little community that surrounds the mountain, and with the current terrifying economy, potential buyers have been few and far between. The few nibbles they have had on the property quickly turn into unaswered phone calls as soon as word of the ghost gets to them.

Most of the family does not believe the cabin to be haunted, however soon after the suicide, when some members of the family were there 'cleaning' up, they all got violently ill & left the property vowing never to return.

"As soon as we made our way [down the mountain] we felt better immediately!" she tells me as she avoids eye contact and stares at the cup of coffee held with both her hands.

Nobody from the family has returned to the cabin. It has sat abandoned for years. Only stories from local teens that like to dare each other to find it at night are all the family has to know it still stands.

One highschool student allegedly broke his arm when he fell down some stairs because a book flew out of nowhere and hit him in the face causeing him to fall backwards with a bloody nose.

This sounds perfect!

Watch as SpookHunter Owen walks by death to get to the cabin.

I made my way on foot up the small dirt path that lead up to the cabin. The family drove me with-in a mile before turning around. Since cell reception is nonexistant this far up in the mountains we had a plan to meet back up in 5 hours.

Passing a dead racoon on the way, the mood was definately one of morbid excitement. There were signs that humaity had visited here with-in the past few months, however I doubt anyone stayed long. The cabin was a lot smaller than I had been expecting. Inside was even more exciting. Books, pictures, furniture all rotting away together covered in dust, bugs, and cobwebs. Just as the family said, it looks like someone left quickly & hasn't returned.


While inside SpookHunter Owen tries to call out a ghost.

While inside the cabin there were times I felt uncomfortable. I don't believe it had anything to do with the parnormal, rather it had to do more with the fact I was sitting in a bug infested shack that was falling apart around me in the middle of some woods on a mountian in North Georgia. Alone. Just me and nature. Hungry nature.

Whenever I had a feeling or heard something, I would take readings, pictures, EVPS, & then pray to a god I have issues with that it wasn't some backwoods hillbilly lurking around. However nothing notable turned up.

After a few hours I made my way back to the family & reported to them that nothing happened.


After hours in the hot cabin, SpookHunter Owen sums up the SpookHunt.

A few weeks later, I was contacted by two potential buyers asking me if I thought the old cabin was haunted. I assured them I did not believe so. It sold with-in a week, but before the paperwork could go through, the cabin burned to the ground.

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