Woodland Cultural Centre

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At Woodland Cultural Center, its neighbors say, translucent figures walk all over the property, sometimes accompanied by the sound of murmured voices, and simply disappear. The occurrences are so frequent and harmless that the locals accept them without fear. The main complex of the cultural center used to be a school for native children.

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Geographic Information

184 Mohawk Street
Brantford, ON
N3S 2X3, Canada

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43.12784307034299, -80.24102667591859
Nearest Towns:
Brantford, ON (1.3 mi.)
Newport, ON (2.0 mi.)
Paris, ON (8.7 mi.)
Waterford, ON (13.6 mi.)
Princeton, ON (14.7 mi.)
Ancaster, ON (14.8 mi.)
Ayr, ON (15.0 mi.)
Caledonia, ON (15.3 mi.)
Hagersville, ON (15.6 mi.)
Galt, ON (15.6 mi.)


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Comments (14)

  1. If you walk around the building at night when its really dark you can see people in the windows that are hanging upside down. You will also her little kids laughing.
    And sometimes if you park your car beside the building and just wait, your car will start rocking side to side.

  2. I visited the woodland Cultural Centre a few years back (1980’s) when they used to host the Christmas Craft Bazaar. I had an opportunity to enter the old school building and go down the basement where food was being served for the shoppers. Yeppers, there is a certain feeling you get upon entering the building itself…..of past life maybe best to describe it. Upon descending the stairs to the basement, a bone deep coldness is present. The kind of cold that makes the hair on your arms and back stand up. As I listened to the building, you could hear…..weeping, and low whispered voices. And I knew there was a lot of history and un-resolved grief associated with the site. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for me, so I quickly purchased something to eat and got the hell out. It was years later before I shared my experience with anyone. I have returned several times since…………to learn more about the place when it operated as a residential school.

  3. I ad a strange encounter next door to it, at the law offices. I was picking up a cleaning staff who worked there at around 2 am, I drove cab at the time. Not being from Brantford, I had no idea at all about the Cultural centre, and that it had been a residential school. Anyway, had problems finding the pick up at first, and had driven around the cultural centre, before realizing my pick up was next door, I entered the drive slowly, looking and went around the curve. At the apex of the curve, a native chap was standing , pointing to the back door. I thought, he must be part of the crew I was picking up. I had driven by him, maybe 4 feet or so, before I stopped and backed up. Only there was no one there.

    He was wearing what looked like a deer skin vest, dyed blue. And clothes more suited to the 50`s, middle aged and he was smiling, very friendly. Strange thing was, there are 3 doors at that law office, and my passengers were at the door he had pointed too.

  4. I went there on a school trip about 14 years ago. My grandfather was one of the native children taken from his parents and forced to attend the residential school .When I was there I couldn’t help but feel like there was someone constantly watching me, which made me feel dizzy always spinning around making sure no one was behind me. I walked over to the cafeteria garage door type thing which is right beside the door to the kitchen where the “mush” was made for the kids to eat. All of a sudden there was 3 loud bangs on it. Everyone looked back at me like I did it and I told them I didn’t. The door to the kitchen was supposed to be locked but when I tried to investigate the noise it was unlocked. I got the nerve to peer in and some of the pots came off their shelves and created more loud noises, which I was blamed for again. I was really getting anxious and wanted to leave but I also wanted to stay and investigate. I later left the group and went to venture on my own, and things just got weirder and weirder. When I was really young, about 5-6 years old. My friend/relatives used to live in the “preacher’s house” next door because it was being rented out from native housing. It was so scary sleeping there, I don’t remember sleeping there at all. There were black shadows always following you around, and the attic was really strange. The basement felt like a dungeon and the tub in the bathroom could of been the original one by how old I remember it being. This was all before I even knew what it was. I didn’t know anything about it until later on in life, but I remember how scary it was. Many other unexplainable things have happened to me, but I’m running out of time to write on here.

  5. I grew up around the the corner from this place.
    I just realized that initially when the school was built, it was a huge farm. Kids when to school half day and labored the other half.

    The house I grew up in is on that land. My house was also very small, far from the side walk and a large backyard – unlike my neighbors and everyone always thought it might have been used as a farm building – realizing now, there could be some truth to that.
    Which explains the a lot of my childhood experiences.
    Cupboard’s and doors would open and close when you were home alone, things would move in the house or I would hear voices…. nothing felt threatening and I would acknowledge these spirits.
    I would say out loud if they didn’t hurt us they could stay and we could co-exist.
    I’ve only been to the Woodland Cultural Center once – because I can’t physically handle what happened to me when I was there.
    I was with my dad – who was in this neighborhood his entire life – he was born in 53 ( he went to school with teenagers who formally were in the residential school).
    I think I was around 9 when we went, we had learn about the school, I bought a leather beaded purse with my allowance money, then we entered a room and it was like I was going to black out.
    I was really hot and dizzy and thought I was going to vomit and I was completely fine a few minutes before.
    We decided to leave and as we were walking down a long drive way, it felt like we were being walked with and once I was at the end I felt fine again,
    I lived around the corner for 20 years, walking past it would bring me to tears all the time.
    I eventually realized I may be sensitive.
    It was very common for friends of mine to go there at night and see/hear kids playing and laughing.
    I want to return one day to see what my reaction would be – but even the thought of that makes me want to sob.
    The spirits of these children are lost and hurt and probably stuck at this school, but thats why the “locals” are accepting, these poor children went through hell, they deserve to be acknowledge by the living and know that they are not forgotten

  6. My friend and I went to this centre last year during summertime. it was very late at night around 3 am when we were biking around and saw people hanging from nooses in the windows.

  7. My friend and I went to this centre last year during summertime. it was very late at night around 3 am when we were biking around and saw people hanging from nooses in the windows.. Daddy at the time (he’s dead now, maybe from ghostz) but he told me to cum home but i didn’t cause he abused me and raped me and my mom watched as he licked me from head to toes. I hated every moment of it. i was a 14year old girl at the time and i was around 80lbs on the verge of death and starving day in and day out. very malnourished but it’s alright cause my friend cums to help me inside sometimes! xd rawr, poggers (sorry lolz) $$$Cashmoney!$$$ When we went back to the place we started to see apparitions chasing after me and they morphed into some type of rhino so me and my friend ( Humongus Demarcus the Third ) ran home to our batcave. True story happened around 2002 B.C.

  8. Me and my friend went here late at night to this place on our bikes, we stopped at the front of the building and all the lights were off and the staircase was empty

    We rode to the back of the building, where the boiler room entrance was/used to be and we both felt very uneasy as if something wanted us to go away or leave, on our way out, my rear bike tire went flat on me and we had to walk home

    This happened sometime in April of 2021

  9. Please change your description. This was not a “school for native children.” It was a concentration camp where kidnapped Indigenous children were starved and otherwise mistreated in a nation-wide campaign of genocide. To call it a “school” is bowdlerization.

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Disclaimer: The stories posted here are user-submitted and are, in the nature of "ghost stories," largely unverifiable. HauntedPlaces.org makes no claims that any of the statements posted here are factually accurate. The vast majority of information provided on this web site is anecdotal, and as such, should be viewed in the same light as local folklore and urban legends.