Mangiare Italian Restaurant is housed in a 1912 building that reportedly has the original wood floor, complete with blood stains from a woman who committed suicide by throwing herself through a skylight. The 15-year-old girl, Lenora or Lerona (depending on who is telling the story), fell in love with a man who enlisted in World War I and died a week after being shipped overseas, and she threw herself through the plate glass skylight into what is now the dining area. Trying to remove the stain has proved futile.
If you've had a paranormal experience here, or have any additional information about this location, please let us know!
Related Videos
Rate this Haunted Place
What do you think? Is this place really haunted? Voice your opinion here! Click "thumbs up" if you think its haunted, or "thumbs down" if you think its all just a tall tale.
Geographic Information
- Address:
- 114 S. Main St
Independence, Oregon 97351
United States
Get Directions » - GPS:
- 44.8527232, -123.18482649999999
- County:
- Polk County, Oregon
- Nearest Towns:
- Independence, OR (0.1 mi.)
Monmouth, OR (2.4 mi.)
Rickreall, OR (5.8 mi.)
Eola, OR (6.4 mi.)
Dallas, OR (7.9 mi.)
Salem, OR (9.6 mi.)
Four Corners, OR (11.1 mi.)
Turner, OR (11.4 mi.)
Keizer, OR (12.3 mi.)
Falls City, OR (12.3 mi.)
Please note: It is your responsibility to acquire appropriate permissions before investigating any location listed on this site. Private property should be respected at all times, as should all posted signs concerning trespassing, hours of operation and other local regulations. Many "ghost hunters" have been arrested because they failed to contact property owners and/or local authorities ahead of time.
Share Your Experiences
Comments (2)
Share Your Comments
Disclaimer: The stories posted here are user-submitted and are, in the nature of "ghost stories," largely unverifiable. HauntedPlaces.org makes no claims that any of the statements posted here are factually accurate. The vast majority of information provided on this web site is anecdotal, and as such, should be viewed in the same light as local folklore and urban legends.
I guess I’m a skeptic, but I’ll share anyways… Last week, I was sitting in my office at home talking on the phone with my boss in Texas while using my calculator to run some numbers for a project I’m working on. Shortly after the conversation, I couldn’t find my calculator. I knew it couldn’t be far, but searching my desktop produced nothing even though I always leave my calculator to the left of my keyboard… I remembered walking into the bathroom for a Q-tip during our conversation, so when I couldn’t find it at my desk, I figured it was possible that I might have carried it into the bathroom and set it down. Nope, not in the bathroom, but when I returned to my desk, it was right where I always leave it – sitting to the left of my keyboard. I felt like someone was playing a trick on me. I was the only one home and can’t imagine how I could miss it in plain sight knowing that I searched my entire desktop. It’s not that big of an area for a calculator to come up missing.
Anyways, today, a sudden scent of flowers comes through my office. No flowers, just the scent. In fact, even as I write this, I’m smelling it again. Searching online about Independence, Oregon, I realize that there are multiple stories, even a book about paranormal activity. I can’t explain what’s transpired here, but I can’t conclusively say it’s paranormal.
Well first off. That’s not how she was killed nor was that the story of why she killed herself. The building used to be a gentlemans club way back in the day. She, an “entertainer”. To put it lightly.
I’ve had many things happen in this building. All before the eatery was even there. That area used to be our storage and office for the bar my parents ran and owned next door.
Many nights my sister and I would sleep in the office while our parents ran the bar to make money to give us kids a good life. The upstairs has always been in a sort of disarray. We were able to play up there but never the top floor.
As for paranormal. Tons. From hearing footsteps upstairs while knowing no one was up there. Pool tables releasing the balls by themselves, glasses sliding on the bar on their own. The smell of perfume and women laughing in the upper floors.
We were sitting in the bar on a Sunday (bar closed) and watching the TV up on the stage. Family talking. Off to the side of us there was a large old antique heavy rocking chair. Started rocking as though someone were sitting with us enjoying the conversation.
Also. The room she committed suicide in is always much cooler than the rest of the rooms. The last I was up there was to watch the fireworks as a kid. Before the show even started. Our dog, who had been completely fine a few minutes earlier. Turned her back to us as if she were guarding us from something. Growling at the second door that led to the room next to us.
Never went up there again after that. You couldn’t pay me enough to step into the building again. I’ve sat across the street from it and looked but I won’t go back.