The Delaware River has its place in history and of course, MidAtlanticDayTrips. This is not the first time I’ve covered parts of the river, from Gen. George Washington’s celebrated Revolutionary War crossing to upstream to the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area, or downstream to the lighthouses in its bay!
The river is steeped in American colonial history and is one of the prettiest and most scenic rivers in the mid-Atlantic region, which is why staying at a cross-over bed and breakfast/motor lodge along the banks of the Delaware River was so special.
As part of and attached to the original farmhouse there is a dining room and bar, with an adjacent open space with a patio and canal-side seating and tables.
On our first night, tired from a day full of daytrip adventures (which you’ll be reading about in the coming months here), we turned off the lights and went to bed. We were wakened suddenly when the lights in the living room came on, full strength. The knob had been clicked off when we went to bed — I know, because I’d turned off all the lights. Something had to have caused it to click on, and then caused the dial to move all the way from off/dim to full strength. I confess that my immediate reaction to this, from within the safety of the bed, was to dive under the covers.
And in my fear paralysis, my only thought was that if maybe I didn’t move (or breathe) then maybe the lights would quietly go back off. I lay that way for 15 minutes before waking my friend and asking her hopefully whether she’d turned the lights on, knowing full well she hadn’t.
Putting on my best Zak from Ghost Adventures impression… could the entity who turned on the lights be Mr. Nessler, the former owner of the inn, who’d lived in the same spaces that are now the “Grand Suite”?
The funny thing about hearing or seeing ghosts or experiencing possible paranormal activity: You desperately DO want to experience it, until you actually do, and then suddenly and inexplicably, you realize you DON’T actually want to experience it. It’s more fun in the concept than in the reality.
The innkeeper, Scott Wythe, and the other inn staff we spoke to were enthused about the possibility of there being a ghost. “That’s the only thing missing from this bed and breakfast,” Wythe said. But none of the inn staff had ever experienced anything, in all the years they’d worked here. And no other guests had ever reported such a thing happening.
|Harry Nessler, the first owner of the 1740 House and our possible ghost.|
The second night, to our relief and disappointment, we didn’t experience anything.
|Photo courtesy Barbara (last name unknown), with whom we enjoyed the fire on our last evening at the 1740 House.|
But that might be because we also sat outside on the patio in front of the fire pit until well past midnight, respectively nursing our gin and tonic and apple martini, chatting with Jim and Barbara, also staying at the inn, who’d joined us on the patio.
|Photo courtesy Lisa Schwartz|
There is something about a fire and a patio and a lovely spring night in front of a river that causes strangers to become friends, and that’s what happened. We shared stories and bottles of white wine and vodka. We shared with them our experience in the room the night before and they told of their sudden sorrow, a beloved family member’s sudden passing.
|The view from our window.|
At evening’s end, the stories all told, we toasted Jim and Barbara’s family member, and in my heart I also toasted the former owner of 1740 House, who created such a magical space along the Delaware River.
Getting there: 3690 River Road, Lumberville, PA 18933
|Photo courtesy Barbara, with whom we shared the fire and many stories on our last evening at the 1740 House.|