Investigating the Bulls Head Inn: 200 Years of History and Something We Can't Explain
“When you layer that many emotionally charged human experiences into a single structure over 200 years, you create something investigators feel obligated to take seriously — even while we're actively trying to disprove it. There were moments inside the Bulls Head Inn that I couldn't write off, and in this field, that means something.”
— Jason Hawes
Some locations stop you in your tracks the moment you walk through the door — and the Bulls Head Inn in Cobleskill, New York was one of those places. Built in 1802, this building has served as an inn, tavern, courthouse, town hall, Masonic Temple, and private residence, meaning it has absorbed more than two centuries of human activity within its walls. When a place has housed that many people across that many chapters of history, the question isn't whether something might have been left behind — it's what, and how much.
I want to be straight with you from the start, because I always am: I walked into the Bulls Head Inn looking for ways to debunk whatever we might encounter. That's how I've always operated, going back to my earliest days with TAPS. If there's a rational explanation for something, I want to find it first. A creaking floorboard is a creaking floorboard until the evidence says otherwise. A shadow in the corner is bad lighting until proven differently. That mindset is what keeps this work honest, and it's the only approach I respect.
The history of this building is genuinely remarkable, and I think that context matters when you're doing an investigation. This wasn't just a roadside inn where travelers stopped for a night. The Bulls Head Inn functioned as the social and civic backbone of Cobleskill for a significant stretch of its early history. People gathered here to conduct legal proceedings, hold town meetings, conduct Masonic ceremonies, and share meals and drinks after long days of work. When you layer that many emotionally charged human experiences into a single structure over 200-plus years, you create something that investigators like me feel obligated to take seriously — even while we're actively trying to disprove it. The building itself had a weight to it. You could feel the history in the architecture, in the uneven floors, in the way sound moved through the rooms. Before we recorded a single piece of evidence, I already understood why people believed something was happening here.
During the investigation, we moved methodically through the location the way we always do — establishing a baseline for temperature, sound, and electromagnetic readings before anything else. Knowing what's normal inside a building is the only way to identify what isn't. Old structures like the Bulls Head Inn come with their own set of variables: settling wood, drafty windows, aged electrical systems, and acoustics that can make sounds travel in unexpected ways. I was keeping all of that in mind as we worked. We used our standard array of investigative equipment throughout the night and spent time in the areas of the building that have historically generated the most reported activity. I'll say this much — there were moments during the investigation that gave me pause. Things I heard, things I witnessed, that I couldn't immediately write off with an obvious explanation. That doesn't happen on every investigation, and when it does, I pay attention.
What I can tell you is that the Bulls Head Inn is not a location I'm prepared to walk away from and call completely quiet. Some of what we captured during our time inside those walls is genuinely difficult to explain through conventional means. I've reviewed the evidence carefully, the way I always do, and there are specific moments in this investigation that I believe deserve serious consideration. I'm not in the business of telling people what to believe — I present what we find and let the evidence speak. But I will say that when the team and I were inside the Bulls Head Inn that night, there were moments where the atmosphere shifted in ways that were hard to ignore. Whether that's residual energy from the building's long history, something more active, or something I simply haven't identified a natural cause for yet, I can't say definitively. What I can say is that this investigation left me with more questions than answers, and in this field, that's significant.
The Bulls Head Inn in Cobleskill, New York is a location that earned its reputation — and after spending a full night inside it, I understand why people keep talking about this place. My verdict is inconclusive, but leaning toward something genuinely unexplained, and I don't say that lightly. Watch the full investigation, tell me what you notice, and let's figure this one out together.