The land on which the remnants of the Cresson Sanitarium now lay abandoned was once the property of Andrew Carnegie, one of the greatest entrepreneurs and philanthropists to ever come out of the United States.
Carnegie had planned on using this parcel of land to build a wondrous mansion for his aging mother. However, as she died sooner than he’d expected, he was left with a vacant piece of land, and it wouldn’t be until 1911 when Carnegie was approached by the state of Pennsylvania, who was then scouting a location for a tuberculosis sanitarium in the Allegheny Mountains, that he found a new use for it.
Carnegie sold the land to the state and they began construction of the Allegheny Tuberculosis Sanitarium, which officially opened to admit patients in 1913. Starting the clock on what would ultimately become one of history’s most diversely grim, shocking, and horrific locations – first for its human torment and now for its paranormal proclivity.
Once Tuberculosis became more treatable into the middle of 20th the century, the hospital transitioned to caring for the mentally feeble, as was a common switch for such institutions in that era. The sun set on that era of the property’s existence eventually, too, as the asylum closed down entirely in 1982 when plans were announced to turn the campus into a prison, which went by the name of The Lawrence Frick State Prison Complex.
This unique location served in almost every capacity, witnessing the deaths of disease-ridden patients, inmates, mentally incapacitated members of society, and general admittance individuals. In the eyes of many members of Cambria County, such a drawn-out and gruesome past has supercharged the location with an unthinkable degree of paranormal activity.
Some have simply heard ethereal screams and witnessed strange entities out of the corner of their eyes when passing by. Others, more daring, have gotten closer and heard the laughter of children, have seen the darting black forms of humans running inside the walls of the various structures in the compound and throughout the grounds themselves. It’s a ghostly playground, put simply.
As members of modern society begin to take their first steps back onto the compound since its complete abandonment in 2016, they would be wise to heed a very particular warning. This hunt is not for the faint of heart. It may not even be for the meer enthusiasts amongst us. Very few, if any, destinations exist in our world that have played host to a history whose decades saw such a propensity for death, savagery, and mistreatment. What you may encounter inside the walls of Cresson’s crumbling structures is a degree of activity the likes of which most investigators have never experienced.