What’s in the basement of the Hickman House?

Illustration by Aaron Long

Until a few years ago, I could not say that I had ever been in a haunted house. My house was built in 1916, and there is no doubt that a lot of souls have lived in this house the last 100-plus years. The first year I was living there, I had some film friends in town working on a movie. It was the summer of 2009, and after a night of slinging PBRs and Hamm’s, I was up making coffee, and my buddy walked into the kitchen and went on and on about seeing shapes of people walking in my hallway. My hallway connects my kitchen with my two bedrooms and bathroom — no more than 10 feet long. I never saw or felt anything strange in the 15 years I have lived in the house, nor have I ever experienced anything unusual.

During the winter of 2013, I did experience something odd at another place. Some friends of mine were living in an old house while they were between homes. The house sits in Beaverdale on 35th Street. People are currently living in it, so for the sake of their privacy, I am holding back some of the location information. At the time, it was a red barn-shaped home that sat way back on the lot. The house itself doesn’t look like the others on the street. The Polk County Assessor’s website lists the house as built in 1882. However, a few months later, I met with Pat Meiners at the Des Moines Historical Society who shared with me a collection of notes on what he called Hickman House. He thought the architecture dated closer to the 1870s.

The place was massive on the inside with hardwood interior that looked like each piece was hand-carved. Transom windows were above every door. Upstairs, every movement could be heard from the floor below. My friends had three teenagers and one newborn. Jackie was a photographer on maternity leave, so she was home a lot with the baby. Ben worked from home about 50% of the time in information technology. Back then, we would get together every so often. Jokingly, they mentioned to me that they thought the house they were living in was haunted.

A handprint on the inside of the mirror

Jackie told me she would be checking on the baby and could hear footsteps walking around on the main floor. Sometimes it was the sound of a single person; other times she could hear lots of footsteps, as if there were a bunch of young kids running around barefoot. The house also had a lot of built-ins. In their kitchen, they had a large China cabinet filled with dishware. Their table broke down and slid into the side of the cabinet itself. One early morning, Jackie was in the kitchen feeding the baby and Ben was in his office. They had a golden retriever named Daisy, and it began sitting next to the door that led to the basement for hours on end. It was in the kitchen next to the China cabinet. Daisy wouldn’t let anyone down there. Suddenly, Daisy started growling at the door. It didn’t bark but was seemingly waiting for whatever was behind the door to come through.

Things were fine, until they weren’t. Jackie and the baby were alone in the house one day. She was downstairs in the home office editing photos when she heard someone talking to her baby. The sounds were clear as day, like an adult woman making baby talk whispers and then an occasional loud giggle. Jackie ran upstairs, and when she opened the doors to the nursery, she felt a wind gust pass through that was strong enough to stop her movement. She then walked over to the crib to check on the baby, and she heard multiple crashes through the house. Three of the transom windows above the doors shattered instantly. Jackie, Ben and family were out of the house two months later.

I mentioned earlier that there was an experience I once had, and it relates to their home. Toward the end of their time at the house, I came by mainly to just get a tour of the place. I’m not a “sensitive” person in this world of spirits. I walked the hallways of the Armargosa Hotel in Death Valley and felt nothing, but the moment I walked into the house, I wanted to leave. I saw the broken transom windows with my own eyes. They had a basket of dirty laundry on the kitchen table ready to go to the laundromat because their dog wouldn’t let them go down to the basement. (It was indeed sitting in front the basement door when I was there.) They showed me an oval-shaped mirror that was in their kitchen, and I noticed the handprint, except the handprint was on the inside of the glass — not the outside. I could rub my hand on the glass, and it wouldn’t smear the print. 

An overwhelming sense of oppression was present. Something big and angry lived there. You know that feeling when you really made one of your parents mad and you were trying to avoid them? That’s what it was like. I asked Pat Meiners, who owned the property, and, yes, it was built by George Washington Hickman. This entire neighborhood was part of Hickman Farms, which would explain the barn-like appearance of the house. 

To be honest, I don’t know how I feel about this whole thing, but I do think about the house often.

Happy Halloween. ♦

Kristian Day is a filmmaker and writer based in Des Moines. He also hosts the syndicated Iowa Basement Tapes radio program on 98.9 FM KFMG. Instagram: @kristianday Twitter: @kristianmday