Spirits of the Past: The Haunted Legends of The Buckner Building
There’s a certain chill that wraps around Whittier, Alaska, especially when night falls and shadows stretch long against the backdrop of the stunning mountains. But as beautiful as this tiny port town is, it hides a ghostly secret, one that seems to linger in the air of a particular crumbling structure – The Buckner Building. My adventure into this haunting history began with a casual trip to explore the picturesque seaside scenery, yet I found myself drawn into the eerie tales woven into the very fabric of this haunting edifice.
As I approached The Buckner Building, I felt an odd mixture of excitement and trepidation. The building, once a bustling apartment-hotel that held a rich history, now stood abandoned, its windows shattered and its walls worn. Built in 1953, it served as a home base for the army and housed various families over the years. You can almost hear the echoes of laughter and excitement, but it is quickly drowned out by the whispers of its haunted past.
Local legends whisper tales of mysterious happenings, and as I walked through the twisting corridors of the decaying building, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was not alone. My research had uncovered stories of soldiers returning from World War II who were said to haunt the halls. Witnesses have claimed to hear footsteps echoing through empty rooms, the sound of laughter when no one is there, and even the faint strains of music wafting from the shadows. With every creak of the floor beneath my feet, I couldn’t help but shiver.
One of the most chilling accounts I came across was that of a former resident who spoke about “the lady in white.” According to folklore, she was a nurse who had lived in the building during its operational years. She dedicated her life to helping the injured and ill, but tragically, she never made it out of the building alive. Her spirit, it is said, still wanders the halls, an eternal guardian to those who may be in distress. What struck me the most was the unwavering conviction in the voice of the woman I spoke to. She claimed to have seen this spectral figure on countless occasions, always gliding through the hallways with a tranquility that belied her tragic fate.
My own experience came late one hush-hush evening. Armed with nothing but a flashlight and my curiosity, I decided to take a closer look inside. The door creaked, protesting as it swung open, revealing an eerie stillness. Dust motes danced in the beam of my light, and the air felt heavy, laden with stories waiting to be told. I remember standing in what might have been the lobby, the remnants of a grand reception area still visible amid the decay. A deep sense of foreboding washed over me, but I pressed on. Once inside, every sound felt amplified—my breath, the buzzing of my phone, the sudden scuttling of what I hoped was just a mouse.
As I moved deeper into the building, I came upon an old stairwell. The stairs were steep and precarious, with flakes of paint and grime swirling at my feet with each cautious step. Suddenly, I felt a gust of wind sweep past me, a cold draft that sent a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of the early summer evening outside. My heart raced. Could it be the lady in white? Or perhaps one of the soldiers? I felt a presence—intangible, yet undeniably there. I was a mere intruder in their domain, stepping where they may have once tread.
Not wanting to retreat without tangible evidence of my visitation, I took out my phone and began to document my experience. As I snapped pictures of the dimly lit rooms, I felt an urge to speak: “If anyone is here with me, can you show yourself?” I didn’t expect an answer, yet the air grew thick like elastic, crackling with unseen energy. Later, while reviewing my photos back at my hotel, I gasped at what my camera had captured—a faint, white mist hovering in one of the doorways. A trick of the light? I don’t think so. After all, there is an undeniable beauty in the unexplained.
The stories of The Buckner Building have not only captivated locals but also attracted paranormal enthusiasts from all over. Ghost hunters equipped with their EMF meters and night vision cameras have trodden its halls, sharing spine-chilling findings of electronic voice phenomena and temperature drops. For those of us who are skeptical, there remains an air of magnetic intrigue that can beckon even the most steadfast non-believer into the hauntingly beautiful allure of the unknown.
Not long after my visit, I learned that local legend claims that the spirits of The Buckner Building can influence dreams. It reaffirmed everything I had felt—the echoes of lives long past entwined like roots deep in the earth—undaunted and vigilant, forever instilling a sense of wonder and a tinge of fear in those who dare to listen. My nights since have been peppered with vivid dreams of old soldiers and a gentle nurse seeking peace amid chaos.
The Buckner Building remains a poignant reminder of life’s fragility and the stories that linger long after we’re gone. As I left Whittier, the image of the old building stayed etched in my mind—the forgotten memories woven into its walls, the apparitions of those who lived, loved, and lost. Whether you believe in the supernatural or not, there’s no denying that places like The Buckner Building have a way of reminding us of our own humanity, threading together the living and the deceased in a tapestry of shared existence.
So, if you ever find yourself in Whittier, Alaska—don’t just take in the breathtaking scenic views. Dare to meander near The Buckner Building, listen closely, and perhaps, if you’re lucky, you might just hear the whispers of the spirits of the past, sharing tales of their time on this Earth.
