St. Augustine Lighthouse

Haunting

Two girls drowned in the supply cart during construction—their laughter echoes in the tower. The keeper who fell to his death still climbs the stairs. America's oldest city has its most haunted lighthouse. The dead tend their beacon still.

1874 - Present
St. Augustine, Florida, USA
8000+ witnesses

The St. Augustine Lighthouse rises 165 feet above Florida’s Atlantic coast, its distinctive black-and-white spiral bands visible for miles in every direction. Since 1874, this beacon has guided ships safely past the treacherous coastline. But the lighthouse guards more than just the living. Within its iron-and-brick tower and across its weathered grounds, the spirits of those who died here continue their eternal vigil. Two young girls who drowned during construction still play on the stairs they never climbed in life. A keeper who fell from the tower still makes his rounds. The St. Augustine Lighthouse is not merely one of America’s oldest active lighthouses; it is one of its most haunted.

Tragedy During Construction

The construction of the St. Augustine Lighthouse began in 1871 to replace an older Spanish watchtower that was being claimed by coastal erosion. Hezekiah Pittee served as superintendent of construction, and he brought his family to live near the work site. His daughters, Eliza and Mary, along with another girl, often played among the construction materials and equipment.

On July 10, 1873, the three girls climbed into a supply cart used to transport materials from the dock to the construction site. The cart ran on rails and was designed to be pulled by workers. Somehow, the cart began rolling down the rails toward the water, gaining speed as it descended the slope.

The cart plunged into the bay. The third girl managed to escape, but Eliza and Mary Pittee were trapped and drowned. Their bodies were recovered, but their spirits, according to countless witnesses over the following 150 years, never left the lighthouse their father was building when they died.

The Girls in the Tower

Since the lighthouse’s completion, visitors and staff have reported encounters with the spirits of Eliza and Mary Pittee. The activity centers on the spiral staircase, the 219 steps that wind from the ground floor to the observation deck.

The sound of children’s laughter echoes through the tower when no children are present. Footsteps race up and down the metal stairs, always just around the curve from the listener, impossible to catch up with or pin down. Some visitors report feeling small hands push past them on the narrow staircase, as if eager children are racing to reach the top.

The girls have been seen as well. Transparent figures in period dress have been observed on the stairs and in the windows of the tower. Security cameras have captured apparent figures moving through the lighthouse after hours. One visitor photographed a girl in the lighthouse window who was not there when the photo was taken.

The activity seems playful rather than malevolent. Eliza and Mary are still playing, still climbing the stairs of the lighthouse they never saw completed in life.

The Keeper Who Fell

Joseph Andreu served as keeper of the original Spanish watchtower that preceded the current lighthouse. In 1859, while painting the exterior of the tower, Andreu fell to his death. Though that structure no longer exists, Andreu’s spirit is believed to have transferred to the new lighthouse built nearby.

Keepers and visitors over the decades have reported seeing a man in keeper’s uniform in the lighthouse tower. He appears solid at first glance, going about duties as if still maintaining the light. Then he vanishes, simply ceasing to exist between one blink and the next.

Footsteps that sound heavier than a child’s have been heard climbing the stairs, steady and purposeful, the tread of a man going about his work. The smell of kerosene, the fuel used in the old lamps, sometimes permeates areas of the lighthouse despite the beacon having been electrified for decades.

The Keeper’s House

The keeper’s quarters adjacent to the lighthouse are equally active. The house has served various functions over the years and now operates as a museum, but it has never been empty of spirits.

A woman in period dress has been seen in the building, believed to be one of the lighthouse keepers’ wives. She appears in bedrooms and common areas, sometimes looking out windows toward the tower her husband tended. Staff have heard a woman’s voice calling names or humming, though no one living is there.

The basement of the keeper’s house produces some of the most intense paranormal activity on the property. Visitors report overwhelming feelings of unease and being watched. Shadow figures move in the corners. Equipment malfunctions inexplicably in this area.

Investigations and Evidence

The St. Augustine Lighthouse has been investigated by numerous paranormal research teams, including the team from the television program “Ghost Hunters,” which visited in 2005. That investigation produced significant evidence, including electronic voice phenomena (EVP) recordings and video of shadow figures moving through the tower.

Subsequent investigations have added to the body of evidence. Thermal cameras have detected inexplicable cold spots moving through the lighthouse. Audio equipment has captured children’s voices and adult conversation in empty rooms. Electromagnetic field meters spike in areas associated with reported activity.

The lighthouse now conducts regular paranormal tours and investigation events, allowing visitors to experience the phenomena for themselves.

A Living Memorial

The St. Augustine Lighthouse continues to operate as an active aid to navigation, its beam visible twenty-four miles out to sea. It also serves as a museum preserving the maritime heritage of Florida’s first coast.

But it serves another function as well, one not listed in any official capacity. The lighthouse is a memorial to those who built it and those who maintained it, a place where the boundary between past and present grows thin after dark. Eliza and Mary Pittee, who died before they could see the completed tower, now play on its stairs forever. Joseph Andreu, who fell from the old tower, still tends a light that no longer needs human keepers.

The beacon shines on, guiding the living and housing the dead, a haunted monument to over 150 years of tragedy and devotion.

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