She Fell Alone and No One Came: Investigating the Haunted Fayes House
“Knowing that a person suffered here — alone, undiscovered — that changes how you move through a space. But that emotional weight is exactly why I push myself to stay disciplined. Grief and tragedy can make ordinary things feel extraordinary. The job is to separate the two.”
— Jason Hawes
Some locations carry a weight that hits you before you even walk through the door. The Fayes House — now operating as the Rechic retail store — is one of those places. The story goes that a woman fell down the stairs here and wasn't found for days, and ever since, people have reported unexplained sounds, strange activity, and the persistent feeling that something else is in the room with them.
I've been doing this long enough to know that a tragic history doesn't automatically make a place haunted. What it does do is give people a framework — a story they attach to every creak, every shadow, every uncomfortable feeling they can't explain. That's not me dismissing what witnesses have experienced here. That's me doing my job. When we walked into the Fayes House, my first priority wasn't to find a ghost. It was to find out what was actually happening inside these walls.
The building itself has a character that's hard to ignore. It's the kind of structure that holds onto its past — older construction, narrow stairways, rooms that feel smaller than they should. That staircase in particular is the centerpiece of the whole story. A woman fell there. She wasn't found for days. That's not paranormal — that's a real, human tragedy. But in the years since, staff and visitors have reported hearing things they couldn't explain, feeling watched, and experiencing what some describe as a presence near that staircase. Those are the claims we came to investigate, and we documented everything we could throughout the night.
Our approach here was the same as it always is: eliminate the explainable first. We swept the building for environmental factors — drafts, structural settling, ambient sound bleed from outside, temperature fluctuations that could account for the cold spots people reported. Old buildings like this are full of natural explanations that get misread as something supernatural. Pipes, floorboards, air pressure changes, even infrasound from HVAC systems can create feelings of unease or the sense that someone is nearby. None of that gets ruled out until we've actually tested for it. We ran our standard equipment throughout the investigation — documenting audio, monitoring environmental readings, and staying methodical in every room we covered. If something was going to show itself, we wanted it on record. And if something had a rational explanation, I wanted that on record too.
What I can tell you is that the Fayes House is not an easy location to investigate with a clear head. The history gets inside you whether you want it to or not. Knowing that a person suffered here — alone, undiscovered — that changes how you move through a space. But that emotional weight is exactly why I push myself and my team to stay disciplined. Grief and tragedy can make ordinary things feel extraordinary. The job is to separate the two. Throughout the night we documented our findings carefully, and I'll let the footage speak for itself. What I look for isn't a dramatic moment. It's the detail that doesn't have an answer when everything else does.
The Fayes House earned its reputation the hard way — through a real loss that left a mark on this building and the people connected to it. Whether that mark is paranormal is something I'll let you decide after watching the full investigation. What I know for certain is that we went in without assumptions, tested everything we could, and documented the truth as best as we found it.