Place d'Armes Hotel

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At this hotel you may find the ghost of a small girl in old-fashioned clothes. She may ask if you have seen her grandmother before she vanishes. Also reported here have been the sounds of music, voices, and footsteps.

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    Geographic Information

    Address:
    625 St. Ann St
    New Orleans, LA 70116
    United States

    Get Directions »
    GPS:
    29.958753, -90.06340599999999
    Parish:
    Orleans Parish, Louisiana
    Nearest Towns:
    New Orleans, LA (0.8 mi.)
    Gretna, LA (3.1 mi.)
    Arabi, LA (3.5 mi.)
    Terrytown, LA (3.8 mi.)
    Harvey, LA (3.9 mi.)
    Marrero, LA (4.7 mi.)
    Jefferson, LA (5.4 mi.)
    Metairie, LA (5.6 mi.)
    Timberlane, LA (5.9 mi.)
    Westwego, LA (6.0 mi.)

    Contact Information

    Web:
    http://www.placedarmes.com/

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    Comments (8)

    1. I stayed here on Halloween 2014 and trust me this place is haunted, every night it felt like someone was walking around in my room. There’s no windows here so the room is pitch black. I heard voices in my room having a full out conversation and I wasn’t even drunk yet. Its definitely a cool hotel to stay at.

    2. Stayed a few years ago. Room 222. Awoke to footsteps in room and sense I couldnt move, couldn’t lift myself up. When I finally could quietly woke friend. Footsteps also heard. When we finally talked we shared we actually both had experience couldn’t move. Later read rm 223 has paranormal activity.

    3. Stayed at this place three times and have heard the children laughing and running around. Have also seen younger man in 1880’s attire with female visitor. The room at the end of the second courtyard past the slave quarters is the most haunted and after three days you get the feeling they want you gone. My sister was given a noodge in the back even though she was sitting in a hardback chair. Freaked her out

      • I experienced the same thing. Children laughing in the middle of the night. It happened about 10 years ago and it’s such a vivid memory to this day. The next morning I told the manager what had happened and she told me the story about the school and fire. I instantly felt a chill down my spine. After that night…I believe in ghosts. This occurred in one of the two bedrooms directly over the lobby.

    4. Stayed in a room called the stairway to heaven room. My last night there, it was about 6 am and I went to turn the TV off and roll over. As soon as I closed my eyes I felt something heavy climb onto the bed. I knew I was alone so I went to turn over, but couldn’t. I was froze as if something was holding me. I then went to scream but nothing came out. I felt this weight come over me for a few seconds and then it was gone. I jumped out of bed turned all the lights on and literally slapped myself to see if I was dreaming…..I wasn’t. Needless to say it was a bit scary, but it was also an intense new experience for me. The place was gorgeous and the staff were very polite. I would go back, even with the scary intense experience. NOLA❤️

    5. I just stayed at the Place d’Armes 10/29-11/2/2017, and I didn’t get a solid night’s sleep while I was there. The first night, and a few scattered times throughout the trip, there were loud scraping sounds in the walls/ceiling–there are lots of rats in New Orleans, so I suppose it could have been rats. However, the second night, I woke up to the sound of a woman crying, either in the room or very loudly in the hall–again, that could be an actual woman wailing in the hallway, but it went away and came back after I had fallen back asleep, so I doubt it. Every night of my trip, I was woken up multiple times because my bed was shaking. It felt less like someone climbing into bed than someone walking on the bed, or just shaking it. I asked my friend in the other bed of theirs was doing the same thing, wondering if it was the building, and they didn’t experience anything like that.

      Regardless, I would stay there again. I didn’t sense anything malicious, the bed shaking didn’t scare me (though the woman’s voice and the scraping sounds did, a bit–the scraping gave me a Candyman flashback),

    6. I have been able to communicate with spirits all my life, but my experience at Place d’Armes Hotel in New Orleans was the first time I was able to validate what I heard and saw. I am a well-respected journalist, so my life is based on verifying facts. That’s why this experience was so exceptional.

      I booked myself into the Place d’Armes off Jackson Square in New Orleans for a business trip, not knowing it was one of the most haunted places in the Vieux Carre. Shortly after checking in on Thursday, November 20, 2003, I glimpsed a little girl in my room. The next day, she also briefly appeared. She was about four feet tall and slightly built, being petite for her age, which I sensed was about 12.

      On Saturday evening, I had dined with business associates and then joined them for nightclub hopping. Shortly before midnight, I left them to return to my hotel to work late into the night to meet my editor’s deadline the next morning. I sat typing on my laptop computer at a desk against the wall with a mirror hanging above it. I glanced in the mirror and was startled by the image of the little girl, standing behind me.

      “What’s your story, Little Girl?” I asked. Suddenly, I was unable to breathe and smelled burning tar. I remembered that smell from my youth when my parents often used old tar shingles to start the fire in our coal stove. The young girl faded away.

      The next morning I telephoned my neighbor, our high school’s head librarian, and asked her to use the Internet to investigate the Place d’Armes. Then I went to the front desk and asked the clerk, “Is this hotel haunted?” She replied, “No, it’s not haunted. I’ve worked here since 1985 and I’ve never heard about any ghosts.” Just then, one of the New Orleans haunted tours stopped across the street, and the guide pointed at the Place d’ Armes while tourists snapped photos and listened to his story. I chuckled to myself and decided to seek out the maids.

      Two maids were going about their daily chores when I interrupted them and asked the same question: “Is this hotel haunted?” The younger maid said, “Yes, but I’m not sure who it is. I just know there’s a door up on your floor we can’t keep closed.” The older maid chimed in, “I can feel it, but I’ve never seen anything. But, there were people here with cameras who said they were filming ghosts a few years ago.”

      Just then, an elderly janitor walked down the hallway toward us. He had been listening to our conversation while he climbed the back stairs. “Those children haunt this place,” he said. “They play in the hallway, and bounce their ball down the steps. They died in that fire here years ago when it was an orphanage.” That accounted for my inability to breathe and the smell of burning tar. The children had perished in that fire. I thanked the maids and janitor for the information, and went off to my business meeting. Meanwhile, my neighbor called to tell me she had found reports of the frequent sighting of the ghost of a young girl at the Place d’Armes.

      That evening, November 23, I returned to my room at the Place d’Armes. After a cleansing ritual bath, I set up my portable altar, called to the Four Quarters, and cast my sacred circle. I called to the little girl, and she appeared. She was so loving and lost, and I knew she wanted my help. I told her she needed to move on to the other side where her parents were waiting for her. I told her they loved her and wanted her to come home to them, and then she would have a real home instead of the orphanage. “What about my brother?” she asked. “Take him with you,” I told her.

      She told me her name was Maribel, then she hugged me around the waist and disappeared. I did not see her again for the remainder of my stay, but there is an interesting postscript to this story.

      When I returned to my office the following week, I was logging in my travel expenses when I noticed the notation printed at the bottom of one restaurant receipt: “Maribel Thank You!” My journalistic skepticism at once suggested that the name Maribel had been imbedded in my subconscious by this receipt prior to my encounter with the little girl. I checked the date on the receipt, and it was November 25, two days after she had told me her name and the last day of my business trip to New Orleans.

      I believe Maribel and her brother were the two children who accidentally started the fire that claimed their lives and those of many other children and that their guilt was binding them to the site.

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