Investigating the 1890 House Museum: What We Found After Dark in Cortland, New York
“A dimly lit Victorian mansion is going to feel heavy and charged — that's not the paranormal, that's 130 years of history doing exactly what it's supposed to do. The challenge is separating genuine feeling from genuine evidence.”
— Jason Hawes
Some locations stop you in your tracks the moment you walk through the door — not because of anything paranormal, but because of the sheer weight of history pressing in from every direction. The 1890 House Museum in Cortland, New York is exactly that kind of place. Jim and I went in with our equipment, our experience, and the same question we bring to every investigation: can we explain this, or can't we?
Before we ever set up a single piece of equipment, I always make it a point to understand the location we're walking into. The 1890 House was built for Chester F. Wickwire, a successful industrialist whose wire-manufacturing empire made him one of the most prominent men in Cortland during the Gilded Age. This isn't just some old house — it's a fully preserved stone mansion with original furnishings, elaborate woodwork, and more than 130 years of family history embedded in its walls. When a building has housed that many generations of human experience, it's worth asking serious questions. That's exactly what Jim and I did.
After spending time with the team at the museum learning the history of the property and the Wickwire family, we came back after dark to begin our investigation. This is where the real work starts — and I want to be clear about what that work actually looks like. We're not walking through a dark building hoping to get scared. We're methodically moving through the space, documenting the environment, testing for drafts, electrical interference, structural sounds, and anything else that could account for what people report experiencing here. Old mansions like this one are full of natural explanations: settling foundations, temperature fluctuations between rooms, aging pipes, and acoustics that can make sounds travel in genuinely disorienting ways. My job — our job — is to rule all of that out first.
During the investigation, Jim and I covered the main rooms of the mansion, paying close attention to areas where staff and visitors have reported unusual experiences over the years. We used a combination of our standard investigative equipment to document environmental readings and attempt to capture any anomalies on audio or video. What I can tell you is that this house has a presence to it that's hard to put into words — but I'm also careful not to confuse atmosphere with evidence. A dimly lit Victorian mansion is going to feel heavy and charged with something. That's not the paranormal; that's good architecture and 130 years of accumulated history doing exactly what they're supposed to do. The challenge is separating genuine feeling from genuine evidence.
There were moments during our time inside the 1890 House that gave both Jim and me pause — instances where we picked up something we couldn't immediately account for, where the environment shifted in a way that warranted a closer look. I'll always be the first person to push back on a quick paranormal label. But I'll also be the first person to tell you when something resists a clean explanation after we've done the work of trying to find one. The 1890 House earned our attention in that regard. What we documented, what we heard, and what we experienced during those dark hours inside the mansion is laid out in full in the video — and I think it's worth watching with fresh eyes and an open mind.
The 1890 House Museum is a remarkable location, and I'd encourage anyone with an interest in history or the paranormal to visit Cortland and see it for themselves. As for what Jim and I found during our investigation — watch the video, listen carefully, and draw your own conclusions. Just remember what I always say: unexplained doesn't automatically mean paranormal, but it does mean the conversation isn't over.