There’s Ghosts in This Data!

Unlock haunted highways and dust-laden relics hiding in forgotten corners

From the moment life consciously started, I wondered what happens when it ends. 

While other kids plucked The Babysitters Club off the shelves of our local library, I shoved myself into the far left corner with its three books about Canadian hauntings.

Blah, blah, blah, I like ghosts, and my fascination with ghost towns started in high school.

About 50km outside of my city lies an abandoned village, now fiercely protected by men in stained undershirts, bellies hanging out, shotguns in hand. It’s become their duty to protect the artifacts of a town that met its brutal fate in the 1950s when a plague-like virus wiped out over half the population. Those who remained were either driven mad by what they’d seen or they left, escaping to further corners of the province. To even attempt to drive down Main Street would now be the ultimate “fuck around and find out.” 
Or so people said. 

So, 16-years-old, in a car I’d borrowed from my older sister, we tested the theory. The closer we got to the pin on our map, the more silent the car became. As we inched forward, our bravery inched backward. By the time we saw the first building, I’m not certain anyone was breathing. 

And reader? Nothing happened. 

We spent the afternoon cautiously eyeing the standing buildings from a distance. We did, in fact, see a lone man lingering outside his trailer, keeping an eye on us. But only because a yard away was a church that had been so terribly vandalized, it was hardly recognizable.

The truth is that this place was propped up at some point between 1935 and 1950 as a railroad town, and when the train service was removed, and the grain elevators closed, so did the school, and people simply left for greener pastures. No plague, no insane asylum wannabes—just another rail relic common on the Prairies. 

Despite our less than momentous visit, I’d been bitten—not by some Black Death flea—and my fascination grew. 

Throughout my later 20s, my curious appetite for these towns became insatiable. I found myself on Reddit, on ancient forums that hardly look like God’s modern internet, inside the portfolios of local artists and photographers, and the ears of local elders. 

I went anywhere that an empty day and a full tank of gas would allow.

I’ve driven six hours roundtrip for a single fully preserved red-bricked church that was supposedly the site of a ritualistic satanic murder—I didn’t even step foot inside it. I was once followed by a man who insisted I was lost when I wasn’t. My car broke down spectacularly next to the bones of a 1930s general store.

There is nothing that feels quite like it. The wind whistles through broken windows, remnants of lives once lived scatter the grounds, and the silence feels too thick, too empty. There's a certain quality to the air when you shoulder your way into a dilapidated building, especially one supposedly riddled with ghosts. 

Using OSINT, we can dig to find these places, discover the history of a haunted town or eerie building and reveal the whispers of the past. 

Step 1: Location, Location, Location

It's easy. Open Google and type in your location alongside "haunted places," "abandoned places," or "ghost town." You'll get results on Reddit and other forums. Fine, easy. 

Now! If you want to find a "haunted heatmap" of ghost sightings or abandoned towns, geospatial mapping tools can help you identify patterns. Tools like Google Earth, combined with user-submitted paranormal reports, can reveal clustering. Even Reddit threads dedicated to local ghost stories sometimes reveal areas that correlate with old graveyards, former burial or battlegrounds, or sites of other historical events.

Example: One of my bucket list sites, Uranium City, was once a bustling mining town in northern Saskatchewan. But when the mines closed in the 1980s, it was effectively abandoned, leaving behind empty buildings and eerie silence. Hauntings are often reported in specific areas: the empty hospital and former mining facilities. By layering maps of historical population density and overlaying them with current visitor reports of ghostly encounters, you see how formerly high-activity spots have become focal points. 

Step 2: The Backstory

Every haunted place will have lore. Maybe there was a tragic fire, a mysterious death, or a catastrophic event that left the area desolate. Start by gathering stories tied to the location. Local news archives, newspaper databases, and historical records to provide insight into real-life events.

Example: I was always particularly moved by the story of The Bride of the Fairmont Banff Springs—where I would eventually drag my former partner ghost-hunting with me. While the energy of the Fairmont is undeniably odd on a drab January day, with its grey stone and muted marble, there is no historical record of the bride's death. There is, however, compelling evidence that the story popped up first in the year 1986, when a group of colleagues challenged each other to see who could conjure the most unsettling tale.

Step 3: Dig into Ownership Records

Not so easy for Canadian's, but one of the most revealing OSINT tools for haunted locations is property records. Sometimes, discovering a mysterious change in ownership or abrupt abandonment can add weight to claims. Websites for public property records, Zillow, or county offices can be goldmines for tracking down the owners and dates of transfer.

Example: Consider the famously haunted Baldoon Settlement in Wallaceburg, Ontario. In the 1830s, the McDonald family, who owned the property, reported disturbing incidents like unexplained fires, strange noises, and objects moving on their own. After the McDonalds fled the property, records show that ownership passed through a series of short-lived hands, with several owners selling abruptly. Each new family reportedly experienced eerie disturbances before leaving, feeding its reputation.

Step 4: Analyze Photos and Videos

Haunted locations often attract amateur photographers and ghost hunters—hi, hello, it's me. Analyzing these images with metadata tools can reveal when and where they were taken and sometimes even what device was used. Look for inconsistencies or patterns: perhaps the exact same "apparition" appears in multiple photos taken years apart.

Example: Let's revisit our bride at The Fairmont. Analyzing EXIF data from several photos taken of her apparition, it’s apparent the "Bride" always appears in the same area of the staircase, regardless of lighting or angle. Her "veil" aligns with light reflections and a slight discolouration on the stair rail—suggesting a simple but eerie visual effect, like reflective surfaces. 

Step 5: Crowdsourcing with Social Media (And Living Folk)

Searching hashtags, location tags, and keywords like #Haunted or #GhostTown on Instagram, Twitter, and even TikTok can give you real-time accounts from people in the area. 

Example: It's not uncommon to source a seemingly great location on an online forum that hasn't been updated since 2011. By perusing location tags on Instagram, I have been able to save myself hours of driving only to find out that a building of interest was torn down in the last few years. 

By far, my greatest results have come from asking local people in rural areas what they can suggest. Some of my favourite sites (and sights) have been in places that were never incorporated towns or villages but just an old church or a schoolhouse out over yonder that's now on the far left corner of Ol’ Joe's cattle farm. Hey! That's actually where I found a well-preserved copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens under some rubble. I was so moved by the thought of someone long gone who once lay in this wood house, a cozy fire in the corner, flipping the pages of a book I read years ago. 

And no, I didn't take it. 

The first rule of ghost and ghost town hunting—leave that shit alone. While it may not be anyone's now, it's certainly not yours. And you don't want to bring any shadowy strangers home with you. 

Happy Halloween and happy (ghost) hunting, bullshiters!