The Hauntings at Swope's Townhouse

Michael Swope and his wife Catherine raised six children in the townhouse, transforming it into a warm and bustling home. The Swopes were prominent members of Alexandria society, known for their hospitality and their devotion to their family. Michael served on the town council, while Catherine was active in charitable works supporting the city's growing population of immigrants.

The family employed a small staff of servants, including a cook, a housekeeper, and a nursemaid who helped care for the younger children. By all accounts, the Swope household was a happy one - filled with the sounds of children's laughter, the bustle of daily life, and the warmth of a close-knit family.

But happiness in the 19th century was always fragile, and death was never far away.

In the summer of 1847, a typhoid epidemic swept through Alexandria. The disease, spread through contaminated water, struck rich and poor alike. The Swope family, despite their wealth and the best medical care available, was not spared.

Within the span of three terrible weeks, typhoid claimed the lives of Catherine Swope and four of the couple's six children. The nursemaid, who had cared for the sick children day and night, also succumbed to the disease. Michael Swope, who had survived the illness himself, was left with only two of his children and a house that had become a mausoleum of memories.

Neighbors reported that Michael was never the same after that summer. He wandered the halls of the townhouse at all hours, speaking to family members who were no longer there. He refused to change anything about the house, leaving his wife's belongings exactly as she had arranged them, keeping the children's rooms ready as if they might return at any moment.

Michael Swope died in 1862, and those who knew him said he died of a broken heart. But the family he lost has never truly left the townhouse that bears their name.

Without exception, every former resident Ghost City Tours spoke with mentioned the footsteps. They begin on the third floor, where the children's bedrooms were located, and descend the main staircase with deliberate, measured steps.

One former resident, a woman who lived in the townhouse during the 1990s, described her first encounter: 'I was reading in the parlor, alone in the house, when I heard someone walking upstairs. Clear as day - footsteps crossing the floor above me, then starting down the stairs. I thought someone had broken in. I grabbed my phone, ready to call 911, and watched the staircase. The footsteps kept coming, step by step, but there was no one there. They reached the bottom of the stairs and just... stopped. Right in front of me. I could almost feel someone standing there, but I couldn't see anything.'

Another resident, who lived there in the early 2000s, reported hearing multiple sets of footsteps - heavy adult steps accompanied by the lighter, quicker steps of children. 'It sounded like a whole family coming down those stairs,' he told us. 'A father's heavy tread, a mother's lighter step, and children running alongside them. Every night, around 9 PM. Every single night.'

The most dramatic reports from Swope's Townhouse involve sightings of the Swope family themselves - not one ghost, but an entire family appearing together.

A former resident who lived in the townhouse in the 1980s shared her experience with Ghost City Tours: 'I woke up one night - I don't know what woke me - and I saw them standing in my bedroom doorway. A man, a woman, and three or four children. They were wearing old-fashioned clothes, nightgowns and such. They were just standing there, watching me. The woman had her hand on one of the children's shoulders. I couldn't move, couldn't scream. Then the man nodded at me - actually nodded, like he was acknowledging my presence - and they turned and walked away. I heard their footsteps going down the hall.'

Similar sightings have been reported in the parlor, the dining room, and the kitchen. One resident described seeing a woman in Victorian dress setting a table for dinner, carefully arranging place settings for people who weren't there. Another saw children playing with toys in an upstairs room, only to find the room empty when he opened the door.

'They're not scary, exactly,' one former occupant told us. 'They seem like they're just... living their lives. Like they don't know they're dead, or they don't care. They're a family, and this is their home. We were the intruders, not them.'

Perhaps most disturbing are the voices that wake residents from their sleep. Former occupants describe being jolted awake by conversations happening just outside their bedroom doors - conversations in voices that shouldn't be there.

One couple who lived in the townhouse in the 2010s shared their experience: 'The first time it happened, I thought my husband was talking to someone downstairs. I could hear a man's voice, then a woman responding, then what sounded like children. I went downstairs to see who had come over at 3 AM, but the house was empty. My husband was still asleep in bed beside me. He hadn't moved.'

The wife continued: 'It happened almost every week after that. Always in the middle of the night. Sometimes it sounded like a normal conversation - pleasant, even. Other times it sounded like an argument. Once, I swear I heard a woman crying and a man trying to comfort her. The words were never quite clear, like they were speaking just below the threshold of understanding. But the emotions came through. Joy, sadness, anger, love. Everything a family feels.'

Multiple residents reported being woken by their names being called - a clear voice speaking their name, pulling them from sleep, only to find no one there.

The most physically dramatic paranormal activity at Swope's Townhouse involves the doors. Former residents describe doors that bang violently in the night - not slamming shut, but being struck from the other side, as if someone were pounding to be let in.

A former resident who spoke with Ghost City Tours described it vividly: 'The first time it happened, I nearly had a heart attack. I was in bed, half asleep, when there was this tremendous BANG on my bedroom door. Like someone had hit it with their fist as hard as they could. I sat up, terrified, and then the door just... swung open. Slowly. There was no one on the other side. No one in the hallway. Nothing.'

This pattern - violent banging followed by doors opening on their own - has been reported throughout the townhouse. Closet doors, bathroom doors, the door to the basement. One resident reported that the front door would bang and then swing open almost nightly, as if the ghostly family were arriving home.

'We had the locks checked, the hinges checked, everything,' one former occupant told us. 'There was nothing wrong with the doors mechanically. They shouldn't have been able to open on their own. But they did. Over and over again. Eventually, we just learned to live with it. What else could we do?'

Paranormal researchers who have studied Swope's Townhouse offer various theories about why the haunting is so intense and so persistent.

Some believe that the trauma of the 1847 epidemic - the rapid loss of so many family members in such a short time - created a kind of spiritual anchor. The family died together, and so they remain together, unable or unwilling to move on without each other.

Others suggest that Michael Swope's refusal to accept his family's deaths somehow kept them tied to the physical world. His years of speaking to them, of maintaining their rooms, of living as if they were still present, may have created a space where they could continue to exist.

A more poignant theory holds that the Swope family simply loved their home and each other too much to leave. In life, the townhouse was a place of warmth, love, and togetherness. In death, it remains so. The family goes about their routines, parents watching over children, the household continuing as it always did - just on a different plane of existence.

Remarkably, many former residents of the townhouse describe their ghostly cohabitants with more affection than fear.

'After a while, you get used to them,' one long-term resident told Ghost City Tours. 'The footsteps become almost comforting - you know someone's home, even if that someone has been dead for 170 years. The family, when you see them, never seems threatening. They're just... there. Living their lives alongside ours.'

Another former occupant put it this way: 'I think they were a happy family once, and they're still a happy family. They don't haunt that house in anger or sorrow. They haunt it because it's their home, and they're not ready to leave. I can respect that. We were just renting - they've been there since 1819.'

Still, not everyone can adapt to life with the Swopes. Several families have left the townhouse within months of moving in, overwhelmed by the constant paranormal activity. The voices in the night, the doors banging open, the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes - for some, it's simply too much.