Sentient or Residual Energy: The Presbyterian Church

Theoretically, there is a grey area between residual and sentient energy. There is a haunting at the Presbyterian Church in Leesburg, Virginia that seems residual and yet the witnesses have very distinct variations to the story that give it a sentient twist.

On November 9, 1802, the Presbytery Society bought at auction a one acre lot on Market Street for the price of $80 with the intent of establishing the first Presbyterian Church of Leesburg "for the sole use and purpose of a burying ground and place of worship to be conducted agreeably to the manner prescribed by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of these United States, forever" and it was arranged that a 40’ by 30’ brick house of worship would be built in the clearing. The current congregation continues to use the original brick structure and its original pews and boasts descendants of the first gathering in 1804.

With a history this strong and intact, it is no surprise that the church has a haunting. But the Presbyterian Church haunting is not from its deep historic roots; it is actually that of the choir director from the early 1960s.

At 5:15, as was her weekly Wednesday habit, Lilias Janney placed the dinner dishes in the sink, gathered her keys and sheet music, and headed to the back door to attend choir practice when she suffered a massive heart attack. Death was immediate.

Choir members gathered at the church for their weekly practice and quickly knew something was amiss. The music stands and chairs were still stacked along the balcony wall and Miss Janney was nowhere to be found. When there was no response at Miss Janney’s house, choir members called her daughter who hurried to her mother’s house where she discovered her body on the kitchen floor.

It was a sad day for the Leesburg Presbyterian Church community. A large crowd of church members and locals gathered to pay their respects as hymns floated down from the balcony sung by the choir that Miss Janney loved so much. A friend took over the responsibility of directing the choir and scheduled practices to resume the next Wednesday.

As was Miss Janney’s habit, the friend arrived for the Wednesday choir practice early and went to the balcony to set up the chairs, stands, and sheet music. As soon as she reached the balcony, she heard the door at the back of the church swoosh open. She looked over the balcony rail to see who had also arrived early and saw the familiar figure of a woman rushing up the aisle.

“Lilias, I’m up here,” she called out before recalling that her good friend Lilias Janney had died the week before. When the rest of the choir arrived, the visibly shaken director told them what she had seen.

Others have also witnessed Miss Janney rushing through the back entrance and hurrying up the aisle. With each telling, the story changes. Witnesses in the 1960s saw Miss Janney rush through the door and then disappear halfway up the aisle. Later it is reported that Miss Janney rushes up the aisle and makes it to the bottom of the balcony staircase. More recently the ghost of Miss Janney is seen and heard rushing up the aisle and her heels can be heard coming up the balcony staircase but no one ever appears at the top of the stairs.

A picture of Lilias Janney hangs in the hallway at the back entrance of the church to commemorate her dedication to the church and the choir. Members of the church embrace her everlasting spirit that still enters through their church doors. They believe that one day the spirit will climb to the top of the balcony stairs and the haunting of Miss Janney will cease for she has finally reached her destination – the choir practice that she didn’t make it to decades earlier.

includes information from “Virginia Town Proud of Tales of Supernatural” by Gail Shufelt. The Daily Gazette: The Sunday Gazette: Travel. April 30, 1995.  Schenectady, NY.