Balsam Mountain Inn

Sitting at 3,500 feet elevation on the edge of the Nantahala Forest, this 100-room inn opened in 1908 to serve travelers on the newly completed railroad. The three-story Neoclassical structure features two-story porches and has changed hands many times.

Balsam Mountain Inn stands in a valley between the Plott Balsam and Richland Balsam mountain ranges, a three-story wooden hotel that has been lovingly referred to as "the Stanley Hotel of the South." Built between 1905 and 1908, the inn rose to prominence when Balsam Gap became home to the most crowded railroad station in the eastern United States. The historic building has served many purposes over its long life—boarding house, clinic during a smallpox outbreak, private residence—and through all these incarnations, it has accumulated spirits that refuse to leave.

Construction began when brothers-in-law Walter Christy and Joseph Kenney opened a modest boarding house offering fishing and hunting expeditions. Good food and excellent service made it popular, and the railroad brought a steady stream of travelers. But the last passenger train passed through Balsam on July 4, 1948, and the inn began its long decline. The health department closed it in 1988, and the building sat empty for years, slowly deteriorating in the mountain mist.

Room 205 is considered the most haunted space in the 100-year-old building. In 1928, a visitor named Sheriff was shot outside the inn. Fatally wounded, he was carried inside and placed in Room 205, where he died. His presence has lingered ever since. Room 207, adjacent to the death room, shares in the paranormal activity. The owners have placed a guestbook in these rooms for visitors to record their experiences, and the entries paint a picture of persistent haunting.

Guests have heard footsteps walking across their rooms as they lay in bed—footsteps that continued for hours, pacing back and forth on the wood floors, with no visible source. Shadows appear without anything to cast them. Bedsheets are ripped from sleeping guests by unseen hands. Giggling echoes through empty hallways. Objects move on their own, and in extreme cases, they have been thrown across rooms.

Former employees tell stories reminiscent of The Shining. They describe meticulously shutting down the inn for winter, room by room, saying their final goodbyes and driving away—only to turn and look back from the bottom of the hill to find every light in the building burning brightly.

Owner Marzena Wyszynska was skeptical when she purchased the inn in December 2017, but one night changed her mind. She awoke with a start when the sheets were ripped off her bed by an unseen force. Today, small iron signs reading "welcome" have been placed above certain doorframes, indicating rooms known to be home to spirits. Wyszynska came to consider the ghosts part of the family.

The inn closed in 2020 and was put up for sale, but as of 2024, it has reopened under new ownership, reverting to its original name. The property continues to use natural spring water, as it has for over a century. And the ghosts—including whatever claimed Room 205 in 1928—appear to have remained, welcoming new guests to the Stanley Hotel of the South.