Glenn Dale Hospital

An abandoned 1930s tuberculosis sanatorium in Prince George's County, closed since 1984, notorious for paranormal encounters and eerie phenomena.

Glenn Dale Hospital rises from 216 acres of overgrown Maryland countryside like a monument to suffering and death. Built in 1934 during a devastating tuberculosis epidemic that ranked Washington D.C. fourth-highest among American cities for TB mortality, this sprawling complex of 23 Colonial Revival buildings was designed by prominent architects Albert L. Harris and Nathan C. Wyeth—the same architect behind the Key Bridge and original Oval Office. At its peak, the sanatorium housed over 600 patients alongside 500 staff members, treating a disease so stigmatized that families refused to tell anyone where their loved ones had vanished to.

The hospital's design reflected the era's belief that fresh air and sunlight could cure tuberculosis. Patients spent hours on rooftop sun decks and expansive solariums, while children played on specially built rooftop playgrounds. Underground tunnels connected the children's and adult buildings, allowing passage during inclement weather. But for many, Glenn Dale became their final resting place—each building contained its own morgue, testament to the grim reality that tuberculosis was often a death sentence.

The paranormal reputation began almost immediately after the hospital closed in 1982 due to asbestos contamination. Visitors report encountering full-bodied apparitions in hospital gowns roaming the second floor corridors, their footsteps echoing through empty halls. In 1995, investigators discovered tiny footprints in the dust of the children's ward—no larger than a toddler's—and one team member reported a little girl following them throughout the building, though she vanished when they tried to photograph her. The morgue in the adult building basement has become the most active paranormal hotspot, with unexplained sounds and overwhelming feelings of dread reported by those brave enough to venture into its depths.

One of Glenn Dale's most chilling accounts involves a police officer patrolling alone one night. Neighbors across the street heard gunshots and called for backup. When officers arrived, they found their colleague standing frozen, staring straight ahead, unable to speak. He had emptied his entire magazine at something that was never found—and he could never explain what he saw.

The ghostly inhabitants include a woman in white who has been seen dancing near windows before vanishing, a pack of spectral black dogs that circles the Children's Hospital at night, and shadow figures that move through the tunnels connecting the buildings. Visitors report their phones malfunctioning—receiving random calls, playing music without being touched, and connecting to unknown Bluetooth devices. Cold spots drift through the corridors, doors slam with no wind, and disembodied voices call visitors by name.

Local legend also connects Glenn Dale to the Maryland Goatman—a half-man, half-goat creature said to stalk Prince George's County with an axe. Some versions claim the creature emerged from experiments at the nearby Beltsville Agricultural Research Center, while others insist he escaped from Glenn Dale itself. Though historians note the hospital was never an asylum despite persistent rumors, the Goatman sightings near the grounds continue to this day.

Perhaps the most persistent urban legend involves the hospital's incinerator smokestack. Explorers have long reported the smell of burning flesh drifting through the buildings, leading to rumors that bodies were cremated on-site. While evidence confirms the incinerator only burned medical waste, the phantom odor persists—as if the suffering of thousands of TB patients has permanently stained the very air of Glenn Dale.