The (Mis)adventures of Jyl: Barkeater Chocolate

Jyl takes a trip into New York’s Adirondack north country, North Creek in particular, for Barkeater Chocolates!

Welcome back, misadventurers! As I was sitting here thinking about going out to buy all the 50% off Valentine’s candy, my brain did what it always does. It wandered. I started calculating how much chocolate is too much chocolate, which is obviously a rhetorical question. Then I started thinking about where it’s made. Then I started thinking about old buildings. And then, of course, I found myself wondering whether candy could be haunted. So, I ran to the internet to explore yet another rabbit hole, and I ended up in North Creek, New York.

Tucked into the Adirondacks, Barkeater Chocolates operates out of a building that has been standing since 1884. Long before truffles lined glass cases and tourists stepped inside, it was simply a house in a mountain town shaped by logging, railroads, and long, punishing winters. From 1947 until 2013, the building remained in the hands of one family for several generations. For more than sixty years, it was not a business or a roadside stop. It was their home.

Over the years, it has witnessed ordinary life in all its forms. Families moved in. Generations grew up. People passed away within its walls. At least one death is still described locally as having occurred under mysterious circumstances, though time has blurred the details.

In 2013, Barkeater Chocolates purchased the property and transformed it into the shop visitors know today. And not long after that transition, the reports began. Nearly every employee since the purchase has described some form of unexplained activity. The most common experiences are simple but persistent. Footsteps when no one else is inside. Loud banging sounds from upstairs after closing. Objects moved from their original positions. On one occasion, an employee opened the shop to find various items placed in the middle of the floor, as though a toddler had been left unattended all night.

Over time, specific figures have become part of the shop’s lore. A playful boy seen running through the store. A man with a strong connection to the basement. A woman whose voice is described as muffled, as if speaking from somewhere just out of range. On more than one occasion, staff have said pieces of chocolate were knocked or thrown while customers were browsing, as if something had reached into the display and tossed them. Other incidents have been less sweet tooth driven but just as puzzling. Smoke alarms have gone off when certain visitors enter the shop and only fall silent once they leave. And at times, the building grows inexplicably warm, a frustrating mystery for anyone trying to keep the chocolate from melting in a carefully controlled environment.

Of all the places I’ve ever considered haunting, a chocolate shop has officially moved near the top of the list, but it’s definitely not above a cozy indie bookstore. So now I’m curious. What would be your ideal haunting location?

Jyl Glenn is a writer, editor, formatter, anthologist, poet, and a medical-legal writer and consultant. Her lifelong love affair with horror began at a very early age when she was left unattended on the weekend Poltergeist debuted on HBO. And then she figured out she could read any horror book she liked as long as she hung out at the public library, even if the librarian deemed it not to be age appropriate. Jyl was born and raised in New York and now lives in Tulsa with her dog. She loves creepy art, dark poetry, and pink dinosaurs. When she isn’t dabbling in the macabre—she’s most likely asleep.

PLEASE NOTE: The views and opinions of the staff of Memento Mori Ink do not necessarily represent those of Memento Mori Ink or Crystal Lake Publishing. Thank you for understanding.