In October of 2001, I took a job in the haunted house at the old Moundsville prison. Before we started, we were told that there were ghosts and that we would hear weird noises. I thought, “Yeah, right. Whatever.” I ended up working next to North Hall, where they kept all the dangerous inmates. There was a lady working with me whose husband used to be in charge of North Hall. On their breaks, they would come down to where I was stationed and smoke cigarettes and eat their lunches.
Well, one night, after our last group had gone through, we were all out in the hall talking, when the cell doors in North Hall all started banging open and shut by themselves. One of the guys with us ran into the cell area, but found no one there. Later, after getting all of our stuff and going to clock out, we heard it again. So, once again, he went back to check it out and there was still no one there. We were one of the last groups to leave that night and the whole way out to our cars we could hear the cell doors banging open and closed. Needless to say, I now believe in ghosts.