The Ghosts That Never Left the Hotel Saranac
Nestled in the heart of the Adirondacks, the Hotel Saranac stands like a proud red-brick building from the Jazz Age.
Crystal chandeliers, mahogany paneling, a sweeping staircase that once welcomed Prohibition-era bootleggers and tuberculosis patients seeking the “cure cottages” air.
But long after the last cocktail was poured and the sanatoriums closed, some guests never checked out.
Miss Katherine of the Fourth Floor
She is always seen the same way: a young woman in a powder-blue 1930s gown or a simple white nightgown, dark hair pinned in soft waves, standing at the end of the hallway or reflected in the tall mirrors near Room 408.
Staff and guests alike know her as Katherine Stickney, a local schoolteacher who died tragically in the hotel sometime in the early 1930s.
The exact cause is whispered differently depending on who tells it: a broken heart after a failed engagement, a sudden illness, or something more deliberate. Whatever the truth, her presence is gentle but unmistakable.
Doors open and close on their own. Perfume (old rose and lavender) drifts through empty corridors. Guests wake to the feeling of someone smoothing the blankets at the foot of the bed, only to find the room empty and the air ice-cold.
During the hotel’s massive 2013–2018 renovation, construction crews refused to work alone on the fourth floor after tools vanished and a woman’s soft crying echoed from walls that had been stripped to bare brick.
The Children on the Sixth
Up under the eaves, where domestic staff once slept, playful laughter rings out at 3 a.m. Tiny footprints appear in fresh dust on floors that were cleaned hours earlier.
Toys left for the hotel’s youngest visitors are found rearranged into perfect circles by morning.
The Basement Speakeasy That Still Swings
Hidden beneath the lobby lies the restored Great Hall & Speakeasy. After closing time, bartenders have heard the unmistakable clink of ice in crystal glasses and the low murmur of a 1920s party in full swing.
One night in 2022, security cameras caught a fedora-wearing shadow leaning against the bar, then simply dissolving when the guard stepped inside.
The Ghost Cat and the Superintendent
Room 308 has its own resident: a spectral feline that leaps onto beds and leaves phantom paw prints on white duvets.
And in the lower corridors, the tall figure of Howard Littell, the former Paul Smith’s College superintendent who helped save the hotel in the 1940s, is sometimes seen in his signature top hat, quietly checking that everything is in order before vanishing through a locked door.
The Hotel Saranac doesn’t hide its ghosts. Every October they offer guided “Haunted History” tours, and the stories keep coming, from honeymooners, wedding parties, and solo travelers who simply wanted a quiet mountain getaway.
Some places keep their past locked in dusty attics. The Hotel Saranac sets an extra place at the table for you.
If you ever find yourself in Saranac Lake after dark, ask for the fourth floor. Just don’t be surprised if a certain someone tucks you in.
