Jesse Wilkins

Newark, Ohio is a quiet city that sits in the heart of Licking County.

Founded in 1802, Newark grew up alongside the canal and railroad systems, becoming a hub for manufacturing, glassworks, and trade.

But underneath all that progress, this town's seen its share of tragedy, and it's left its fingerprints on the places that still stand today.

Back in the 1800s, this was the frontier of industry.

Newark's claim to fame now might be the world's largest basket.

That giant, bizarre monument to the Langeberger Company.

But long before that, the real giants here were made of earth and clay.

Just outside of town, stretching between Newark and Heath, are the Newark Earthworks.

Ancient geometric mounds built over 2,000 years ago by the Hopewell tribe.

Once spanning more than four square miles, today only about 10% remains.

Many believe that a curse has been left behind by the tribe and that nearby buildings are haunted because of it.

But Newark's haunted legacy doesn't stop with ancient earth and sky alignments.

Let's start with something more recent.

Something more theatrical.

The Midland Theater first opened its doors in 1928, a golden age movie palace with ornate fixtures, velvet seats, and the kind of architectural excess that only existed during Hollywood's rise.

It closed in the 1970s, spent years rotting away, and then was lovingly restored in the 2000s.

But along with the renovations came the whispers that the theater is not empty when the lights go down.

Staff have reported flickering lights throughout, doors opening and closing on their own, and the sound of footsteps pacing across the stage long after guests have gone home.

Some believe that it's the spirit of a former employee who never left.

He's known to tinker with the lights or appear as a shadow moving along the seats.