The original Cavan Railway Station opened in 1862, connecting the town to the Great Northern Railway network. For nearly a century, it served as a vital transport link—first for passengers, then for freight—before closing in stages: to passengers in 1959, and to goods traffic the following year.

Most of the station complex was later demolished. But one building survived—and took on a new purpose.

In the early 2000s, this surviving structure became the home of The Anglo-Celt newspaper. And it was here, in 2014, that a chilling experience was reported by deputy editor Damian McCarney.

Late one evening, while working alone in the office, Damian was overcome by a strange and unmistakable feeling—that he was being watched. Turning toward a doorway propped open by a fire extinguisher, he caught sight of a man’s profile. The figure was dressed in a charcoal tweed suit, standing silently at the threshold.

Before Damian could react, the figure stepped into the shadows and disappeared.

“I tried to tell myself I’d imagined it,” Damian later wrote, “but within seconds, I was completely overwhelmed by the presence of evil. To flee the office, I had to brave—more accurately, coward—the ominous blackness of the corridor. Fumbling for the torch on my phone, I made a dash to the door and got the hell out of there.”

It turned out Damian wasn’t alone in his experience.

Other staff had also witnessed unexplained activity in the building. The office caretaker, without prompting, confirmed he had seen the same figure in the same place. Colleagues spoke of footsteps pacing the corridor after hours, and the scent of pipe smoke drifting from the rear entrance—details never publicly discussed, but noted by more than one person.

Some even reported shadowy figures walking the disused railway platform just beyond the back corridor—once part of the station’s original structure, now long out of use.

Following these reports, Damian contacted Mary Meade, a medium.

Mary visited the building and placed her hand on the old red door—its leaded glass panes one of the last surviving features from the station’s heyday. She identified the spirit as James Fitzpatrick, a man from Fermanagh.

According to Mary, James had been a quiet, kind-hearted soul who once travelled regularly to the station in the early 20th century. He came each week to meet a woman named Elsie—a woman he loved. But one bitter winter evening, she never arrived. James claimed he never knew why. Mary believed he had returned in spirit to the last place he had ever felt hope—waiting still, for a reunion that never came in life… or in death.

But James wasn’t alone.

“There are others here,” Mary whispered. Spirits drawn to the old platform—a kind of liminal zone, she said, between past and present. Some seemed lost. Others, simply lingering.

She also passed on an unusual message. The spirits, she said, were urging the office team to tidy up the space. At the time, it was used as shelf storage. As Damian later quipped, “I was spooked by a ghost more interested in feng shui—than haunting.”

In 2018, The Anglo-Celt relocated to a new premises. The old station office is now used by a construction firm.

And while no further reports have emerged since then, some believe James Fitzpatrick may still be waiting.