The courthouse of Denton County was first established in 1896. Both the courthouse and the town itself was named after a military captain. After Captain Denton passed away, the town elected to bury his body in the lawn in front of the courthouse.
Denton’s Dead Hero
While the townsfolk meant it as a means of honoring Captain Denton and remembering all he did for the town, the seemingly innocuous act had dire consequences. Strange things, of a paranormal nature, began to occur within the walls of the building. Denton residents began to report hearing disembodied footsteps and ghostly whispers when nobody else was around.
Some others would experience sudden, inexplicable cold spots that seemed to rotate within the building. While creepy, none of these experiences were quite like what Tommy encountered one evening at the courthouse. “I had been pulled over because one of my taillights was out,” Tommy recalled.
A Hair-Raising Encounter
“Initially the officer was just going to give me a warning—they’re usually lenient about such things as you don’t always know when you have a taillight out. Anyway, things escalated when he asked for my proof of insurance and I couldn’t find my documentation in the glove compartment. He was obligated to write me a ticket for it, but he told me that if I went to the courthouse with proof of my insurance that my record would be okay,” he nodded.
“So the following day I found my proof, buried underneath a pile of discarded papers, and I drove to the courthouse. Nothing seemed amiss when I walked through the building to the appropriate office, but that could just be because I was so focused on the ticket. After I submitted the proof and filled out a couple of forms, I started walking back through the courthouse to leave.
“And that’s when things became…peculiar,” Tommy said with a slight shiver. “As I walked over the stone floor, I heard the echo of my boots…and the sound of someone else walking too. I looked back expecting to see somebody, but nobody else was in the lobby with me.
“I chalked it up to someone being in an adjacent room, shrugged, and kept walking. But the footsteps were so loud and clear, almost as if someone were walking beside me or immediately behind me. All of the little hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end,” he said, gesturing.
“Growing up in Denton, I had heard that the courthouse was haunted ever since I was a little boy. But I always assumed that those folks who went around talking about it were just kooks in need of their fifteen minutes of fame. ‘Alright, Captain Denton, come on at me!’ I yelled out into the empty lobby, hearing my voice carry up toward the ceiling.
“I laughed at myself, shook my head and then turned to face the entryway—only to see the apparition of a cowboy standing and grinning right in front of me. I probably leapt a good five feet in the air, screaming like a little girl,” Tommy admitted, shaking his head. “By the time I reached the ground again, the ghost had disappeared, and I ran out of Denton County Courthouse like there was a demon chasing me the whole way.”