Haunt Coffee, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

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Haunt Coffee, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

15 Feb

Endless trees. Endless trucks. Northeast Pennsylvania (NEPA) is a land of stark contrast. Gorgeous, rolling mountains stand astride congested highways, moving people and goods from nearby New York City to everywhere else in the country. There’s little in between; nearly absent are the bucolic farms that characterize lands to the south. Instead, vast industrial centers cram themselves into gaps and pockets between the tall, rolling ridges. Emblematic of this demographic trend is the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton region.

Named after John Wilkes (not that one) and Isaac Barre, two Brits who supported colonial America, the history of Wilkes-Barre and the Wyoming Valley in which it sits is complex and sprawling, just like the city today. The Wyoming Valley was claimed by Pennsylvania and Connecticut at one point, based upon purchases they’d made from the local Delaware tribes. This eventually led to the Pennamite-Yankee war, settled only by the Decree of Trenton in 1782. Wyoming Valley would soon fill in with towns like Scranton, Wilkes-Barre, Nanticoke, and others, merging their geographies and histories.

Since then, the history of Northeast Pennsylvania has only gotten stranger. A UFO crash in Carbondale. A still-inexplicable haunting in Jim Thorpe. Spiritual encounters documented by dozens of witnesses. This is only a taste of the enigmatic events that make NEPA a center of paranormal research. And these are only a few of the preternatural tales told by the owner and customers who dwell within the uncanny walls of Haunt Coffee.

Haunt is located right off Route 81. It’s hard to find anything here that isn’t. 81 and 80 are two massive corridors crisscrossing the state. When I first spotted Haunt on the map, I saw it as little more than a refueling station for transient truckers trying desperately to stay awake on a long haul between Parsippany and Cleveland. Maybe the building was haunted, or the name was a campy allusion to the way we ‘haunt’ our favorite coffee spots. Nothing could have prepared me for what I’d find.

Full disclosure: I was a paranormal investigator. Part of a UFO-hunting group based in Harrisburg called SEARCH, I’ve spent many an hour in fields with an EMF meter hunting for the bosonic effluvium of some unearthly explorer. No, it wasn’t a failure. Anomalies were found. Stories were corroborated. Tenative answers opened a floodgate of questions. Jamie, the owner of Haunt, would know exactly what I’m talking about.

Two years ago, on this January Fourth, Haunt was founded as a monument to the paranormal history of the Wyoming Valley. Look below, and you’ll see a marble wall with headstones, each bearing the name of someone who made an otherworldly impact on the region. A funerary theme pervaded the entire cafe. On a TV screen near the coffee bar, a paranormal podcast played. The longest-running one, in fact: Jim Harold’s Campfire, in operation since 2005. Spooky paraphernalia adorned every nook and cranny, but it didn’t come off as campy, ‘spoopy,’ or ironic. Patrons are, by-and-large, researchers and enthusiasts. Serious about it, in other words.

Case in point, Jamie was a font of information. So was one of her customers who, taking a break from hand-making candles, took us (my Mom was with me again on this trip and got a well-earned coffee for her driving prowess) on a guided tour of the coffeehouse. There’s a bookstore, which, unsurprisingly, I went straight for. This one was packed with old and new paranormal books. The classics were my favorites; written in the midcentury by unorthodox scientists, they tend to have a rigor that later works lack.

I did notice one strange phenomenon while I was here. Just like in Hazleton, everyone was friendly and eager to share stories and experiences. OK, so maybe the metaphor I used earlier was pretty apt: This place is haunted. Souls of explorers tend linger here. That those souls are currently embodied is (appropriately) immaterial. There’s always an event here, too: True Crime Thursdays every other Thursday, book clubs, movie nights…everything a goth kid could want. On that note, there is an adult gothic craft night.

Oh, and coffee. There’s coffee, too. With the books, hauntings, and history lessons, I almost forgot. They have good coffee. Lavazza, in fact. I got the Perfetto House Blend. The smooth liquidity and absence of citrus say South American to me. The label mentioned caramel notes, but I couldn’t catch them. Instead, there were notes of unsweetened cocoa. Again, that’s indicative of South America, but since it’s a proprietary roast, we’ll probably never know.

Walking out of Haunt, my head was swimming with stories. One in particular mentioned a haunting at a prison in Jim Thorpe. That’s in the Poconos, and it was the next town on the list to visit. It remains to be seen whether that was kismet or a coincidence, but I at least hope it was a sign of Pocono-flavored adventures to come.

Until then, stay caffeinated.