Windham in the 1950s: Ghostly happenings

By Max Millard

In February 1958, when my family moved into the Goold House in Windham Center, we quickly sensed an otherworldly presence. The house, which is now on the National Register of Historic Places dates back to the 1770s, and throughout the 1800s was occupied by several generations of the Goold family.

Unexplained occurrences have left Max Millard, who grew
up in the old Goold House in Windham Center in the 1960s,
to believe the home and tomb on the grounds may be 
haunted by an otherworldy presence,
PHOTO BY MAX MILLARD 

To the Millards' six children, the house seemed like an old Gothic mansion. The tower rising from the end of the long, narrow ell gave the place an enchanted feeling. Adding to the atmosphere was the Goold cemetery, located at the edge of the property, far back from the house. It was the resting place of about 60 souls.

In October 1958, my family got a surprise visit from a reporter for the Portland Press Herald. He interviewed us for an article titled “Will Ghost Walk, Bell Ring? Windham Family Will Be Listening On Halloween.”

He wrote: “Tradition has it that a bell long since gone from the bell tower … still peals a melancholy alarm to ears attuned to such spirit sounds. … The old bell was believed used to signal Indian raids, or perhaps to sound alarms during the War of 1812.”

My sister Frances, then 14, was the only child who scoffed at the idea of ghosts but admitted: “I hate to go into the tower to feed my pet hamster, Squuffy. It's spooky in there.”

Growing up, I never saw a ghost. But when I was 12, I moved into a small bedroom just above the garage. As I lay there in the darkness, I could hear the distinct sound of footsteps coming up the stairs toward my door. I'd hide under the covers, leaving just a small opening for breathing.

Since then, I've often wondered if the footsteps were real. But my belief was rekindled in September 2026 when I stopped by the house with two old friends from the neighborhood. We were warmly greeted by the current owner, Steven Blankschein, who purchased the house in 2024 with his wife Ruth. He invited us inside and gave us a tour.

A Navy veteran who spent 20 years as a cargo ship captain, Steven is a skilled carpenter and handyman who loves spending his days restoring the house's interior. Our conversation soon turned to the supernatural. Steven told of objects disappearing, then reappearing somewhere else, and a light that flickered on and off because the bulb kept getting partially unscrewed.

These incidents might have an easy explanation, but not when a female guest in an upstairs bedroom released an ear-splitting scream in the middle of the night. She sobbed out that she had seen a man in the room staring at her. A moment later, he vanished. She refused to return to the room, and never again stayed in the house overnight.

Some guests in the ell testified that they'd awoken to the touch of a cold hand rubbing against their cheek. In the downstairs room where I'd slept as a child, local plumber Lee Tubbs was doing some work next to a hole in the floor when someone – or something – pushed him in. He wasn't injured, but when he looked up, the room was empty.

To cap our visit, Steven led us to the graveyard, which is anchored by the imposing tomb of William Goold, dated 1890. The oldest grave is an above-ground crypt that reads: “Here lies all that is mortal of Benjamin Goold, who was born in the part of Kittery afterwards Elliot, in 1749. … He whose dust lies beneath came to Falmouth in 1768, and from thence to this town in 1771. He cleared a farm and built a house 130 rods directly south from this monument, where he died of consumption November 12th, 1807, aged 58 years.”  

Hardly anyone visits the graveyard anymore. When I was growing up someone would come on Memorial Day and plant a flag on each veteran's grave. That has since been officially abandoned, but Steven now takes up the task himself. Several graves are for young men from Windham killed in the Civil War. The most recent gravestone is for my sister Bronwyn, who tragically died in 1974 at the age of 22.

William Goold's tomb, nestled under a mound, is guarded by a thick slate door and an iron gate. Unfortunately, vandals over the years have punched a roughly circular hole in the center of the door with a crowbar. The hole is big enough so that one can see the interior quite clearly with a flashlight. There are no skeletons – just coffins.

Back at the house, Steven related that he often hears footsteps coming from the ell when no one is there. But he is unbothered by the unexplained phenomena because “they don't seem to be harmful spirits,” and he senses only good vibes coming from them. As he continues restoring the house, he might be encouraged by the thought that his work is getting a quiet assist from beyond the grave.

Max Millard is a retired journalist and teacher in San Francisco, California. Email: [email protected] <