13 Most Haunted Places in Pensacola
- Ericka Boussarhane Events
- Apr 11
- 4 min read
The Ghosts of Pensacola: A Southern City’s Undead Charm
By all outward appearances, Pensacola is Florida’s best-kept secret: an easygoing coastal town with sugar-white beaches, sunsets soft as gospel, and a cultural résumé that includes pirates, parades, and more flags than a United Nations summit. But scratch the surface—gently, lest something scratch back—and you’ll find that Pensacola is more than the sum of its postcards.
It is haunted.
And not just the kind of haunted that makes for idle ghost stories told at slumber parties or whispered over daiquiris at beach bars. Pensacola is palpably, stubbornly, stylishly haunted. In a way that demands you listen, or at least not walk too fast when crossing a quiet courtyard after sunset.
We invite you to wander with us—not too far, and not alone—through 13 of Pensacola’s most famously haunted places. You may not leave with a ghost, but you’ll leave with something.
1. The Pensacola Lighthouse
Built in 1859, the lighthouse stands tall at the edge of Naval Air Station Pensacola, its white-and-black stripes visible for miles—a beacon for ships and, apparently, spirits. The tales include a keeper’s wife who died tragically in childbirth and never quite left the top of the tower. Paranormal investigators have heard her. So have tourists. A simple climb becomes a séance with every creak of the spiral staircase.
2. Fort Pickens
A Confederate prison. A Union stronghold. A military puzzle box designed to withstand cannon fire, but not necessarily ghosts. Soldiers still march in the dark, voices echo in long-abandoned corridors, and cannonballs aren’t the only things haunting the powder magazines. The most unnerving part? The air doesn’t move, but something in the fort does.
3. Seville Quarter
Before it became one of Pensacola’s most beloved nightlife destinations, this was a 19th-century warehouse—now a swinging spot for spirits of another kind. Patrons have heard footsteps on empty balconies and whispers in mirror-lit bars. One ghost, known simply as Wesley, died in the walk-in cooler and continues to chill… eternally.
4. St. Michael’s Cemetery
Established in the late 1700s, this cemetery is the final resting place of generations of Pensacolians—from yellow fever victims to war heroes. But the “resting” part is debatable. Visitors report spectral lights, disembodied voices, and that unmistakable prickling at the back of the neck that says, “You’re being watched by someone who doesn’t breathe.”
5. Old Christ Church
Erected in 1832 and boasting more historical clout than most of Florida’s cities, Old Christ Church remains sanctified, solemn, and—on certain quiet nights—strangely inhabited. Churchgoers have reported figures kneeling in prayer long after the congregation has gone. One guide claimed to see a shadow bow at the altar, then vanish. Faith, it seems, is eternal.
6. Fort Barrancas
If military ghosts had a headquarters, this would be it. Located within the Naval Air Station, Fort Barrancas is steeped in over two centuries of battle, imprisonment, and tragedy. Visitors report slamming iron doors, shadowy figures, and the sense that someone’s watching, waiting, guarding... but from what century?
7. St. John’s Cemetery
This sprawling necropolis opened in 1876 and hasn’t known peace since. Known as the “quiet” cemetery, it's anything but. There are tales of a 19th-century madam still checking on her girls, outlaw Railroad Bill pacing near his tomb, and inexplicable glows that hover like lost thoughts. Not all residents stay in their plots.
8. The Saenger Theatre
They say all great theaters have ghosts—it’s in the bylaws. Pensacola’s Saenger, built in 1925, goes above and beyond. Stagehands and performers alike have spoken of ghostly applause, disappearing figures in the box seats, and props that move without cue. One actress even claimed her curtain call came with a pat on the back from... no one.
9. The Gray House
Poised like a spectral chess piece across from Seville Square, the Gray House is often whispered about, rarely entered after dark. Said to be haunted by the ghost of Thomas Moristo, a Spanish sea captain who never forgave a betrayal, the house emits cold spots and slams doors as if to say: “You are not welcome.” It says it often.
10. Old Sacred Heart Hospital
Now repurposed as shops and eateries, this turn-of-the-century hospital has no business being this haunted—but the ghosts don’t care about rezoning. Sightings of nun-like figures and phantom nurses gliding past doorways have chilled even the most skeptical. Ask the pizzeria owners what happens after closing time. Better yet, don’t.
11. The Blount Building
Downtown Pensacola's most handsome architectural relic from 1907 hides a ghostly temper. Tenants report flickering lights, heavy footsteps, and elevators that operate themselves. A third-floor office once belonged to a prominent lawyer who, rumor has it, returns on the anniversary of his sudden death—to review paperwork, presumably.
12. Romana Street
Once the outer edge of colonial Pensacola, now a quiet strip lined with condos and charm. But don’t let the modern facade fool you. The legend of the headless woman who was attacked by pirates on this street remains. She’s reportedly seen wandering after storms, searching for her long-lost head—or maybe her story’s ending.
13. Victorian Bed & Breakfast – Featuring Pensacola History & Hauntings
And now, the most inviting haunt of all: a lovely 1890s bed and breakfast, immaculately preserved and openly occupied by the dead. Guests describe lullabies sung by invisible children, smells of breakfast long before dawn, and music that plays in empty rooms.
Pensacola History & Hauntings isn’t your average ghost tour company—it’s a full-bodied encounter with the unseen. Founded by Ericka Boussarhane, a nationally known psychic medium with appearances on Ghost Hunters and SyFy’s Haunted Collector, this locally revered outfit delivers more than chills—they offer communion.
These aren’t costumed guides spinning tall tales in the dark. They are seasoned paranormal investigators, armed with historical records, psychic insight, and the kind of instinct you can’t teach. Each tour is part séance, part storytelling salon, and part Southern gothic confession, steeped in truth and just enough mystery to make your palms sweat.
Curious why the Victorian B&B hums with ghostly energy? They won’t just tell you it’s haunted—they’ll tell you who’s still hanging around, what unfinished business binds them here, and, if the spirits are chatty, what they think of your perfume.
