Do you believe in ghosts?

9/30/2026

I’m not a believer. And if people ever ask me to explain what that means, I won’t tell them. You can interpret that however you want to. That’s fine by me. 

A week before writing this story, I took a trip to Farrar Elementary School in Maxwell. I knew nothing about it outside of what I had found on the internet. My immediate interpretation was this place was another tourist trap for cheap thrills and carnival tricks helmed by two Gen Z YouTube stars, Sam and Colby — two people I have never met and I know nothing about.

When I was a kid, I would watch all those haunted tourism shows on Fox Family when they aired their 13 Days of Halloween block in the 2000s. Shows like “Scariest Places on Earth” tracked urban legends and paranormal sightings in the style of a grim travel show. Then the floodgates opened with “Ghost Hunters” and “The Dead Files” that took paranormal investigations into everyday culture.

Before those last two shows hit the mainstream, I began doing my own research of the paranormal. I sleuthed through the early internet, searching GeoCities websites for local legends in Cedar Rapids, all against a Web 1.0 aesthetic. I took a trip to the “Thirteen Steps” at Pleasant Ridge Cemetery in Palo, Iowa. The story goes that you count 12 steps going up during the day but 13 at night. Some friends of mine and I drove out to the Black Angel in Iowa City long before it was a tourist attraction. I thought one friend even fell ill under the Black Angel’s curse, which took years to release him. (Those details are for another story.)

 

The visit

Farrar Elementary was my first time visiting a place with a documented history of paranormal activity since I was 15. It was a Tuesday afternoon, Sept. 8, when I drove to Maxwell. It was cloudy and warm with a storm on the way.  I drove up Highway 65 to Northeast 112th Street until I saw the giant brick structure. Built in the early 1920s as a Collegiate Gothic-style rural public school, it is the largest building in town. Across the street is the small Farrar Cemetery and the supporting church. I passed by them as I turned into the driveway of the school.

When I arrived, two men on lawnmowers were trimming the grass, and three cars were parked in the gravel lot. Mine was the fourth. When I stepped out of my car, I faced the building as if it was an adversary. It loomed over me. I looked at every window I could see. Many had shades drawn, and some were just black.

I entered the front door and found myself at the bottom of the steps. I looked up to see a few of the classrooms still labeled with the names of former teachers. I walked up the stairs to the main floor thinking I would find some kind of office or staff room with a person waiting for me. There was no one. I called out “Hello!” several times with no answer. Finally, I heard a door swing open from the bottom of the stairs and quickly threw out another “Hello,” giving my host a jump. 

 

The guide

Anna Christiansen has been manager of the property for YouTubers Sam and Colby for the past year. In her previous life, she was a dog groomer. Her father sparked her interest in the paranormal. Instead of conventional family dinners, they often watched “Ghost Adventures,” “Ghost Hunters” and similar programs on TV together.

“I kind of bonded with all the old people that used to work here, and I was like, ‘Man, if you ever need help — if you ever need volunteer work — I only live like 30 minutes away. Just let me know.’ And they’re like, ‘We’re not looking for volunteers, but if you’d like a job, we’re hiring.’ ”

When the school opened, it served kindergarten through 12th grade. By the time it closed, it served only fourth-, fifth- and sixth-graders. We walked through three of the old classrooms on the main floor: Mrs. Martin’s room, which is believed to be the most active room on the floor; Room 206, the former science room; and Walter’s room, which has no electricity. All three rooms were once active classrooms. When the school was open, students didn’t want to sit in the back rows because they said they often felt someone was standing over them.

As we toured the rooms, Anna explained the types of activity that took place in each of them. Mrs. Martin’s room was home to a spirit they called Justin, whom Anna explained was most likely a 10-year-old spirit from the 1700s and not a former Farrar student. She described Room 206 as active, too. In Walter’s room, she said, a grumpy old man dislikes her, and she has heard footsteps running toward her when nobody was there.

 

The principal

As we walked up to the top floor, Anna warned me of a stronger presence that would be waiting for us. This was where the principal’s office was located, and people reported a figure standing in the doorway. This was also the first time Anna warned me about something in the building.

“It’s gonna get really warm up here; I apologize. There’s a 6-foot shadow figure that hangs out on this floor, and that’s usually his office. They call it the principal, but I don’t know if he’s actually the principal. I think he just kind of looks out for the place. He’s not evil. He’s just an authority figure.”

It was on this floor where Anna also explained to me that not every presence in the building is thought to be connected to the school. She believes Farrar attracts former neighbors, people from the cemetery, relatives accompanying visitors and temporary “travelers.” One of the rooms was filled with dolls that were deliberately placed to unsettle guests. She explained this was just good showmanship and had nothing to do with the spirits in the building.

We walked into the former auditorium. It has an old, wooden stage with built-in light sockets under the floorboards. Anna said the school later divided that space into four classrooms, but it has since been restored into one large room. She showed me a box of old playbooks including one titled “No Time for Skirts.” She also recalled a school play involving the dead and a passage in Latin. She wonders whether it affected the building’s activity but could not recall its title. Other titles came up in our conversation, though we did not establish which plays the Farrar students actually performed in or when.

 

An entity

As we stood on the top floor, I asked if there was a basement and, of course, there was. This brought up discussion of a new presence in the building, an entity so old that it either dates to the era before Christ or it was never once alive. It is said to be something that was never a former human, at least as we usually imagine spirits.

Anna led me down the steps to the bottom floor and through the former school kitchen. The staff used a dumbwaiter to send the food down and into the gym where kids would have lunch. The gym itself took me back to my former junior high school back in Rock Island, Illinois. It was also old. In the center of this room is one of those rainbow parachutes with several balls laid out on top of it. The staff members use the gym for investigations, sometimes setting out balls or playing games with the child spirits that are believed to occupy the building.

 

The resident

About 45 minutes into the tour, we were joined by Miranda Cory, a 21-year-old staff member who once lived in Farrar Elementary School. Her grandmother, Jacqui Carpenter, was a psychic and paranormal investigator who helped former owners Jim and Nancy Oliver conduct investigations and manage paranormal events between 2006 and 2014. When Miranda’s mother and stepfather lost their apartment, the Olivers invited the family to live temporarily inside the school.

Miranda consequently spent part of her childhood at Farrar. She rode a tricycle in the gym, accompanied her grandmother during investigations and celebrated birthdays and her high school graduation in the building.

“I was very sensitive as a kid,” Miranda said. “My grandma would use me in the investigations to speak with the spirits. I would play with the spirits. I was like a little piece of equipment for her.”

Miranda’s most significant childhood story concerns a girl named June. Miranda said she was playing in the gym when she repeatedly felt drawn toward the boiler room, an area she had been forbidden to enter. June allegedly appeared, warned her not to go, and then instructed her to find her grandmother. Miranda said June later appeared after a near-fatal car accident outside of Pella to tell her everything was going to be OK. 

 

The symbols

Anna, Miranda and I walked through the hallways, and they showed me the employee room that was off limits to the public. It took two doors to get into this room. It was modern, clean and cozy, almost like a break room for the employees who work until the early hours of the morning. The doors had symbols painted on them, and I asked what they were. They explained that the symbols were there to protect the staff. I later looked them up. One was a pentacle, a five-pointed star enclosed in a circle. This symbol is commonly associated with ceremonial magic with the words “Vade retro Satana” Latin for “Begone, Satan.” This was the Christian formula for rejecting Satan and evil. The letters around it reference the St. Benedict protection formula:

“Vade Retro Satana

Nunquam Suade Mihi Vana

Sunt Mala Quae Libas

Ipse Venena Bibas”

“Begone, Satan. Never tempt me with your vanities. What you offer is evil. Drink the poison yourself.”

Another symbol looked like a sigil-style mark. I could not identify it with certainty. It didn’t feel like ordinary graffiti.

 

The boiler room

We walked further down the hallway and into a room that just off the gymnasium. This was the boiler room where the entity — which, again, was either older than the time of Jesus Christ or something that was never once human — lived. The boiler room is where the tour’s tone changed. Upstairs, Anna spoke about playful children, a grumpy man and a shadowy authority figure. In the basement, she became guarded.

The room was cluttered from recent foundation and maintenance work. There was a strong “wet basement” odor coming from the original heating system, and portions were closed to guests for ordinary safety reasons. Guests have said they often felt oppressed when inside here.

“Their chest got really tight. They felt fine everywhere else, but as soon as they went down to the basement, they were like, ‘No, I can’t do it anymore.’ ”

Both women resist giving the alleged presence a definitive identity. Anna contrasts it with the “Principal,” the upstairs shadow figure she views as stern but protective. The basement presence may have acquired different names and stories from investigators over the years, but Anna cannot verify its origin. The boiler room is also where Anna’s responsibility as a guide becomes most evident. She monitors guests for fear and physical distress, believing panic can spread through a group. She will end an investigation instead of escalating it for entertainment.

a Carnival attraction?

As we walked outside, I asked a question that has rattled me for more than 20 years. It was something I asked myself when I visited the Amargosa Hotel near Death Valley, California, another hotspot for paranormal activity. “What happens to these spirits and energies when they are made into a carnival attraction? When someone buys a building bringing heavy activity with constant walk-throughs by the living?”

“There are some days, especially by Saturdays, you can tell that they’re more worn out because we’ve been doing tours Thursday and Friday, Saturdays, and we do two tours a night,” Anna said.

She added that this is not consistent, as sometimes the activity is just as strong on Saturday as it was on Friday. During the quieter Sunday-to-Wednesday stretch, she thinks the spirits may get lonely but also have time to “re-energize.” That is one reason she sometimes visits without a tour, bringing her dog and listening to music.

 

The parting shot

Before I left, I mentioned that I wanted to take a few photos outside, including the cemetery. I asked them to hold on one moment before going inside so I could make sure I had my keys because, for some reason, they weren’t in my pockets. I walked up to my car and saw them inside, and we said our goodbyes.

I walked down the gravel driveway to get a few shots of the cemetery. I was framing the gate from the middle of the road when I heard a “meow.” I’m a cat fan, so I looked for where this little fiend might be. Nothing. I framed the shot again to take the picture, and I heard another “meow.” What caught my ear was that the “meow” sounded like it was coming from a human, not an animal. I looked back to the two guys who were done mowing and were watching me from their truck. I wondered whether they thought the sound was coming from me. I concluded that it was time for me to go.

 

Justin’s joke

I walked back up the gravel driveway to my car and found the driver’s side door open. I told myself I probably just forgot to shut it after checking for my keys. I got in the car and drove out to Northeast 112th Street where I would normally start to increase my speed, but my car wouldn’t go past 55 mph. I was flooring it. I tugged on the floor mat, thinking that maybe my feet pushed it up under the metal and I couldn’t get it going. Then I hit Highway 65 where I needed to go a minimum of 65 mph. My car wouldn’t go any faster. I kept my eyes on the road, but, within minutes, I was in Bondurant and blasted through a red light going 85 mph. If the truck that had the right of way hadn’t stopped to honk at the maniac (me) running the red light, I would have cut him in half. It was as if I skipped 10 minutes of time and awakened at the red light. I pulled off at the Casey’s store in Bondurant to grab a water and collect myself. I walked around their parking lot six times just trying to calm down. I felt like I drank a black cold brew coffee on an empty stomach. My vision moved in as if I was seeing a 16:9 rectangle in a 4:3 frame.

That night, I wrote a thank-you email to Anna and Miranda. I told them what happened. Anna responded: “Regarding what happened when you were leaving, I believe you heard something. We have a black cat that hangs around the outside of the school property, though we don’t really call it a cat! Strange things happen there. As a side note about your car, that was probably Justin messing with you. That’s his other party trick besides crawling on the ceiling. He messes with my vehicle from time to time if he’s upset or mad at me. It could have been because I didn’t introduce you to the spirits yesterday, or have you introduce yourself, so they might have felt a bit off put. What’s funny is that once I hit Bondurant, my car goes back to normal, too — It’s like it crosses a threshold, and they can’t affect it anymore.”

I mentioned what I went through to a few people. Two people think I was possessed. One felt I just needed rest or needed to speak to a doctor about loss of consciousness. It’s been a week now, and nothing else has happened. 

You can interpret all this as you see fit. 

For more information on the Farrar Elementary or to book a tour, visit www.hauntedfarrar.com. ♦