Hidden in the suburban sprawl of Bergen County lies a surprisingly rich piece of early American history—and perhaps even one of its quieter paranormal secrets. The Paramus Reformed Church in New Jersey may not be the first place that comes to mind for ghost hunters and history buffs, but this colonial-era church and its adjoining cemetery date back to the 1700s and are steeped in Revolutionary War lore. With weathered tombstones, shadowed corners, and a lingering feeling that you’re never quite alone, this historic church compound offers a fascinating excursion into both the past and the unknown.
Whether you’re a local resident seeking hidden gems or a seasoned paranormal investigator chasing the next whisper from the beyond, the Paramus Reformed Church could be your next intriguing stop. Let’s unravel the remarkable history—and spectral whispers—behind this enduring structure in the heart of Paramus, New Jersey.
The History
Founding and Early Beginnings (1725–1770s)
The Paramus Reformed Church was organized in 1725, during a time when Dutch settlers had begun establishing permanent communities throughout northern New Jersey. Known at its inception as the Dutch Reformed Church at Paramus, it was part of a series of spiritual outposts that helped knit the growing colony together. Built on land donated by local resident Albert Zabriskie, the church quickly became central to village life, serving as a house of worship and a town meeting space.
The original church was a modest log structure designed for practicality and spiritual assembly. As the population expanded, so too did the need for a larger, more permanent structure—and so in the early 1800s, the stone sanctuary that we see today was erected. Much of the original building was dismantled or remodeled, but the foundation—both literal and metaphorical—remained intact.
The Revolutionary War and Its Legacy
Few buildings in the area have such verifiable ties to the American Revolution as the Paramus Reformed Church. During the late 1700s, the church found itself in the thick of revolutionary fervor. The region was a strategic corridor for both British and Continental forces—meaning many churches, farms, and homes were temporarily transformed into field hospitals, encampments, and command posts.
Historical records indicate that the church and its cemetery were used by the Continental Army, particularly due to its location near key military routes. According to local lore and some corroborated documents, General George Washington himself may have passed through the area—and possibly even attended services at the church. Although such claims are difficult to verify with total certainty, there is little doubt that the church was affected by the turbulent energy of wartime.
The cemetery just adjacent to the church, where moss-covered stones still carry the names of early Dutch families and Revolutionary War soldiers, stands as a tangible monument to that era. Walking through it, you may find yourself suddenly aware of the stillness—and something else, harder to define—lingering beneath the surface.
Restorations and Historical Recognitions
Despite weathering centuries of seasonal storms, transformations, and urban development, the Paramus Reformed Church remains a functioning house of worship today. Inside, the sanctuary retains a familiar 19th-century charm, with wood-beamed ceilings and simple pews. In 1970, it was officially added to the National Register of Historic Places, a well-deserved designation recognizing both its architectural and historical value.
The congregation has done an admirable job in preserving the church’s integrity while continuing its profoundly rooted spiritual mission. Yet, in these carefully restored walls, some visitors say, a different kind of presence watches quietly from the shadows of time.
The Haunt
Whispers from the Cemetery
For paranormal investigators, graveyards are often ground zero for spectral phenomena, and the cemetery linked to the Paramus Reformed Church is no exception. With burials dating back to the 18th century—including several Revolutionary War veterans—it’s no surprise that the site has generated more than a few ghostly tales over the years.
Locals have long reported unexplained occurrences around the gravestones: disembodied whispers between dusk and dawn, the eerie sound of footfalls on gravel paths with no one in sight, and orbs appearing in photographs taken around specific graves. Some that have wandered through during twilight swear they’ve seen figures in colonial garb drifting silently between tombstones, only to vanish when approached.
The Church Bell That Rings by Itself
One of the more persistent legends involves the church’s bell. Long since electrified, this bell supposedly rings at odd hours—most notably, just before thunderstorms or in the predawn chill. Members of the church congregation over the years have chalked it up to mechanical anomalies, but some believe it is a spiritual echo—possibly one that warns of looming danger, or commemorates the passing of spirits tied to the battleground history of the site.
During a recent overnight investigation in the area (carried out by a private group of local ghost hunters), an EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomena) recording appeared to capture a subtle but distinct crying sound shortly after the bell rang in the quiet darkness around 3:17 a.m. There was no one in the church or cemetery at the time, and no environmental sounds that could have otherwise explained it.
The Lady of the East Wing
A recurring spectral figure—described as a woman in early 19th-century dress—has been reported several times in the east section of the church during early morning prep time for services. Church volunteers preparing the sanctuary have reported fleeting glimpses, cold spots, and a strange, floral scent (like old roses) that comes and goes inexplicably. She’s never been seen clearly enough to be identified, but some suggest she may have been a devoted church matron buried on the grounds whose connection to the place didn’t end with her passing.
Interestingly, her figure is sometimes seen seated quietly in the last pew, and many say she exudes a calm yet deeply melancholic energy. If she is, as some suspect, a spiritual remnant of the church’s early parishioners who lost loved ones during the war, then her watchful presence may serve more as a guardian than a ghostly intruder.
Paranormal Investigations and Anecdotal Reports
In recent years, the reputation of the Paramus Reformed Church has quietly grown among ghost-hunting communities across New Jersey. While the church itself does not officially promote its haunted status, a number of paranormal investigations—conducted with respect and historical reverence—have yielded intriguing results including sudden drops in temperature, variable EMF readings, and several Class B EVPs that suggest intelligent presence.
Visitors are reminded always to be respectful, particularly due to the church’s continued use as a place of worship. Investigations should only be conducted with express permission, and always preserve the dignity of the sacred space and burial grounds.
Conclusion: A Hidden Gem for Paranormal Enthusiasts
The Paramus Reformed Church may not scream “haunted mansion” or “forgotten asylum,” but therein lies its unique allure. It’s a subtler kind of haunting—one stitched into the very bones of the building, whispered about in its graveyard, and softened by centuries of remembrance. Here, history and mystery blend seamlessly, offering the ideal backdrop for paranormal explorers who value authenticity and depth over jump-scares and theatrics.
If you’re a ghost hunter, historian, or simply curious traveler eager to touch the folds of the past, walking through the ancient cemetery or sitting quietly in the dimmed pews of the sanctuary may yield more than you expect. The Paramus Reformed Church is waiting—with its stories written in stone and its secrets whispered on the wind.
Pack your EVP recorder, your camera, and perhaps a warm coat—because history lingers here. And sometimes, it speaks.