The Ghosts of the Haunted Heathman Hotel

From its inception, the Heathman positioned itself as more than just a hotel - it was Portland's cultural epicenter. The location, directly across from the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall and near the Portland Art Museum, made it the natural gathering place for the city's artistic elite.

The hotel's Tea Court became the place to see and be seen in Portland society. Artists, writers, musicians, and socialites gathered here to discuss the latest cultural movements, plan exhibitions, and network with the city's power brokers. The conversations that took place in the Heathman's elegant spaces helped shape Portland's identity as a city that valued art and culture.

This tradition continued through the decades. The hotel became a favorite of visiting performers appearing at the nearby theaters. Actors would stay at the Heathman during their Portland runs, musicians would hold court in the bar after concerts, and authors would give readings in the library. The guest register reads like a who's who of 20th-century cultural icons.

The Heathman has welcomed nearly every U.S. president since its opening. Presidents Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, Clinton, and Obama have all stayed within these walls. The Secret Service knows the building intimately, and certain rooms are designated as preferred presidential suites.

Celebrity guests have included everyone from classic Hollywood stars to modern entertainment icons. The hotel's famous library contains over 3,000 books signed by author guests, creating a literary collection that spans nearly a century of American writing.

But among all these distinguished guests, there's one resident who never leaves - a woman whose identity remains unknown, but whose presence is unmistakable.

The hotel has undergone several renovations over its nearly 100-year history, each designed to modernize amenities while preserving the building's historic character. Major renovations in the 1980s and 2000s updated guest rooms and public spaces, but some things remained unchanged.

Staff members who worked through these renovations reported that paranormal activity actually increased during construction periods. It's a phenomenon common in haunted buildings - spirits seem disturbed by changes to their environment, becoming more active and visible as a result.

The seventh floor, in particular, has remained largely unchanged in its basic layout since the hotel's opening. Some believe this is why the ghostly activity is most concentrated there - the environment remains familiar to the spirit who haunts it.

In 2023, Tim Nealon, CEO of Ghost City Tours, spent several nights at the Heathman Hotel while visiting Portland on business. As someone who has investigated hundreds of haunted locations across America, he approaches ghost stories with professional skepticism. What happened during his stay, however, left him convinced that the Heathman Hotel is genuinely haunted.

"I've stayed in some of the most famously haunted hotels in America," Nealon recalls. "The Stanley Hotel, the Crescent Hotel, the Myrtles Plantation. I've heard stories, I've felt cold spots, I've experienced some unusual things. But what happened at the Heathman was different. It was undeniable."

Nealon was staying in Room 703, unaware of the room's reputation. On his first night, he was awakened around 3 AM by the sound of a woman's voice. At first, he thought it was coming from a neighboring room, but the voice seemed to be inside his room.

"She was talking to someone," he explains. "I couldn't make out the words, but it was definitely a conversation. The strange thing was, I could only hear her side of it. There was no other voice, just pauses where presumably someone else was speaking."

Nealon turned on the lights, thinking perhaps the television had somehow turned on, but the room was empty and all electronics were off. The voice stopped the moment the lights came on. Chalking it up to the peculiar acoustics of old buildings, he went back to sleep.

The next night, Nealon experienced something that shook him to his core. Once again waking around 3 AM, he felt someone pull the blanket off his bed. In the darkness, he could make out the figure of a woman standing at the foot of the bed.

"She was there," he says simply. "I could see her outline against the window. A woman in what looked like a long dress or nightgown. She was just standing there, looking at me. I reached for the light, and when I turned it on, she was gone. Just gone."

Nealon didn't sleep for the rest of the night. The next morning, he mentioned his experience to the front desk staff, who exchanged knowing glances. They informed him that Room 703 was well-known among hotel employees for paranormal activity, and that guests regularly reported similar encounters.

"The staff member told me they try not to assign that room to guests who seem nervous or who have specifically mentioned being afraid of ghosts," Nealon explains. "But they still book it regularly because most people don't believe in ghosts - until they stay there."

When asked if he would stay in Room 703 again, Nealon laughs. "In a heartbeat. As terrifying as it was in the moment, as someone who runs ghost tours professionally, it was also validating. We tell these stories every night, and sometimes you wonder if you're just entertaining people with folklore. But after the Heathman, I know these things are real."

Nealon's experience is far from unique. Online reviews and travel forums contain dozens of accounts from Heathman guests who experienced paranormal activity, particularly on the seventh floor.

One couple reported hearing a woman sobbing in their room late at night. When they called the front desk to complain about noise from a neighboring room, they were told there were no guests in the adjacent rooms on either side.

Another guest described waking to find all their clothes, which had been hanging in the closet, scattered across the floor. The closet door was open, and they had a distinct feeling of being watched.

A business traveler reported that the bathroom faucet repeatedly turned on by itself during the night. Each time he turned it off, it would turn back on within minutes. Hotel maintenance could find no plumbing issue that would explain the phenomenon.

Several guests have reported seeing a woman's reflection in mirrors when no one else is in the room. One woman described making eye contact with the ghost in the bathroom mirror before the reflection vanished.

Hotel staff members, who experience the building every day rather than just for a night or two, have their own collection of encounters. Housekeeping staff report that Room 703 and several other rooms on the seventh floor require extra cleaning time because items are frequently moved or disturbed between visits.

One longtime housekeeper told a local paranormal investigator that she refuses to clean Room 703 alone. "I always make sure I'm working with someone else when that room needs service," she said. "Too many strange things happen in there. Lights turning on and off, the television changing channels, the feeling that someone is standing right behind you."

Security staff have reported seeing a woman in period clothing on the seventh floor hallways during overnight shifts. When they approach to ask if she needs assistance, she vanishes. The security footage never captures these sightings, which only adds to the mystery.

The hotel's engineering staff have stories about the seventh floor as well. One maintenance worker reported that the temperature in certain rooms will drop suddenly and dramatically, only to return to normal just as quickly. The HVAC system shows no malfunction, and no explanation can be found for these cold spots.

One popular theory holds that the ghost is a woman who was abandoned on her wedding day. According to this version of the story, a woman checked into the Heathman in the 1930s or 1940s, preparing to marry a wealthy Portland businessman. When her fiancé failed to appear at the ceremony, she retreated to her room in despair.

Some versions of this theory claim she took her own life in Room 703, though there's no documented evidence of such a death. Others suggest she simply died of heartbreak, spending her final years living at the hotel and eventually passing away there.

The fact that witnesses often describe feeling overwhelming sadness in her presence lends some credence to this theory. The ghostly conversations that guests report hearing might be the woman forever reliving arguments with her faithless lover, or perhaps trying to understand why she was abandoned.

Given the Heathman's location in Portland's theater district and its history of hosting performers, some believe the ghost might be an actress who stayed at the hotel while performing in a nearby theater.

This theory suggests she might have died suddenly while in Portland - perhaps from an illness, accident, or even foul play. Unable to return home or unwilling to leave the stage, her spirit remained at the hotel where she spent her final days.

The period clothing witnesses describe could support this theory - actresses would have had access to costumes from various eras and might appear in whatever outfit held the most significance for them.

In the early to mid-20th century, it was not uncommon for wealthy individuals, particularly single women or widows, to live permanently in luxury hotels. The Heathman would have been an attractive option - elegant, centrally located, with full service and no maintenance responsibilities.

This theory proposes that the ghost is a woman who lived at the Heathman for years or even decades, becoming so attached to the hotel that she couldn't leave even in death. Room 703 might have been her permanent residence, which would explain why the activity is most concentrated there.

Such long-term residents would have witnessed the hotel's entire history, from the Roaring Twenties through World War II, the post-war boom, and into the modern era. The attachment formed over such a long residence could certainly be strong enough to create a haunting.

The hotel's Tea Court, now a popular gathering spot for afternoon tea and evening cocktails, was once graced by live piano music. Several guests and staff members have reported hearing piano music late at night when no musician is present and no recorded music is playing.

The music is described as classical pieces from the early 20th century - the kind of refined entertainment that would have been provided for hotel guests in the 1920s and 1930s. When someone goes to investigate the source, the music stops. A thorough search reveals no explanation.

One theory is that this phenomenon represents residual energy - a recording of the past playing back like a loop. The countless hours of piano music that filled these spaces might have left an imprint that occasionally replays under the right conditions.

The hotel's elevators have a reputation for strange behavior, particularly late at night. They've been known to stop at the seventh floor when no one has pressed the call button, and the doors open to reveal an empty hallway.

Guests have reported getting on the elevator on the ground floor and pressing a different floor number, only to have the elevator go to the seventh floor instead. When they press their desired floor again, the elevator functions normally.

Security staff have reviewed footage of these incidents and can find no explanation. The elevators are regularly maintained and show no mechanical issues. The seventh floor calls seem to originate from nowhere - or from someone who doesn't show up on camera.

The Heathman's library, with its collection of signed books from author guests, is one of the hotel's most beloved features. It's also the site of peculiar occurrences that suggest ghostly book lovers.

Staff members have found books removed from shelves and left open on reading tables when the library was locked and empty overnight. The books are always returned to their proper places, but the mystery of who's reading them remains unsolved.

Guests have reported the sensation of being watched while browsing the library's collection. Some describe the feeling of someone reading over their shoulder, seeing text reflected as if someone were standing behind them, only to turn and find no one there.

One guest reported sitting in the library reading when she distinctly heard someone turn a page nearby. She was alone in the room, and no other books were open. The page-turning sound continued for several minutes before stopping.