When it’s closing time at the Greenbank Farm Wine Shop, owner Hollie Swanson can’t shake the sensation that she’s not alone.
Perhaps one of the lesser-known aspects of the 120-year-old barn is that it may be haunted. Swanson and her staff swear they’ve felt a ghostly presence on more than one occasion, usually after dark when there are no more customers around.
“Somewhere along the way, we ended up with a ghost and I don’t know who exactly, but we theorized on this wall that it’s someone in here,” Swanson said, gesturing to where a series of old photographs are pinned up in her shop. Most show the barn in its heyday as part of a burgeoning dairy farm, while one particularly creepy image that’s overexposed captures the blank, emotionless faces of a family. A scrawled note says the photo includes Jim Jackson, the farm’s blacksmith.
Swanson has theorized that the ghosts may be farm workers. Started in 1904 by Calvin Philips, the Greenbank Farm was known for its impressive herd of dairy cows. Later, when the herd all died from disease, the farm became the largest known site for growing loganberries in the nation and worldwide.
A 1916 article in The Pacific Dairy Review had plenty to say about the farm’s bovine residents – including some breathless prose about Lady Mooie the Fourth, who gave 100 pounds of milk daily – but little about the farm workers themselves, except to say that they lived well.
“Sixty dollars per month, with house and fuel furnished, is the lowest wage paid to any grown man on the farm … And the farm hands at Greenbank do not live in makeshift cabins. They had modern cottages or cute little bungalows, all equipped with hot and cold running water, baths, and modern plumbing,” the article read.
Ghost hunters have come to the barn the past two Halloweens and have determined there are two specters; they felt a “female energy” in the hayloft, while Swanson and her workers have sensed that the ghost downstairs has more of a male presence.
Behind a creaky door upstairs lies a bridal suite. Couples who choose to host their wedding in the barn may find themselves joined by an uninvited guest.
Last year, ghost hunters set up a camera on a tripod and captured an unexplainable sight. A silvery-white shadow, like a wisp of smoke, drifted by the window briefly before disappearing. Swanson played the footage on her cell phone for a Record reporter and photographer.
“That’s the closest we’ve got to any kind of proof or anything,” she said. “But it’s something.”
She believes the window is too far away from the parking lot to have reflected car headlights. It was not a foggy night, either.
On another mysterious occasion, an antique chair usually occupied by Santa Claus during holiday events slid from one side of the loft to the other.
Even with all of this, Swanson isn’t frightened by what may be out there.
“But they’re friendly,” she insisted. “They’re not mean. They’re not scary.”
She wonders if their presence will be felt at the upcoming Harvest Moon Market hosted by Whidbey Ren Faire 5-10 p.m. on Oct. 25-27. The group even plans to host a haunted house in the barn. They may be in for a real fright.
A historic Greenbank Farm photo captures the blank, emotionless faces of a family. A scrawled note says the photo includes Jim Jackson, the farm’s blacksmith.
