On September 20, 2025, we traveled down to Leetonia, Ohio, with the intention of spending the day helping JoAnn and Mark work on a project for their new garage. That was the plan, at least, until we all looked at each other that morning and decided an adventure sounded much better than a day of labor. With the sun shining and the temperature comfortable, it felt like the perfect opportunity to explore somewhere new.

We gathered into the car, the four of us ready for whatever the day might bring. Since the Leetonia Beehive Coke Ovens were only minutes from their house, it made sense to start there. Even though we had been to Leetonia many times, we had never actually visited the site. We had heard the stories, seen photos online, and knew it was a place rich with both history and paranormal claims. Finally, we had the chance to see it for ourselves.

As soon as we arrived, the sheer size of the location surprised us. The rows of old coke ovens stretched out across the landscape like a forgotten industrial city, each one somewhat still intact enough to give a strong sense of the hard work that once took place there. Walking trails wound their way through the property, drawing us deeper into the remnants of this once booming operation.

Once we stepped out of the vehicle, we naturally drifted apart for a moment, each of us gravitating toward different areas that caught our attention. Cameras and phones came out quickly as we started taking photos and videos, trying to capture the scale and texture of the ovens. The brickwork alone told its own story of heat, pressure, and decades of use.

We walked slowly along the main pathway, stopping frequently to peer into the dark, hollow spaces of the ovens. Some were partially filled with debris, some were cleaner, and others had a haunting quality as the light filtered into the circular interiors. The deeper we walked, the quieter the world around us became, as though the site absorbed sound more than it reflected it.

Marianne had her Ovilus in hand and let it run as we explored. Every so often a word would pop up, and she would call it out for the rest of us to hear. Some of the words seemed random, while others made us pause as they felt oddly connected to the environment. The device added an extra layer of curiosity and anticipation to the walk.

Eventually, we reached the far end of the facility, nearly surrounded by ovens on all sides. Here the air felt heavier and cooler, and even though we were outside, the atmosphere carried that unmistakable energy old industrial locations tend to hold onto. We took our time, snapping more photos, stepping inside some of the openings, and imagining what it must have been like here during its peak.

As we stood there in the silence, Marianne and I heard what sounded like hammering coming from up above the ovens. We tried to capture the sound and document it in our video. Later on as we were reviewing the map, we noticed that there were no other buildings or residential areas around the ovens. To this day, we do not know where that sound originated from, but we do recall hearing it clearly.

After lingering at the far end, we turned around and began the walk back toward the entrance. This time we decided to mix things up and started a spirit box session as we walked. The rhythmic, broken audio echoed slightly against the ovens, creating an eerie soundscape that matched the location perfectly.

As the spirit box cycled through frequencies, we did receive what sounded like a few direct responses. Some seemed like names, others like short words or fragments that aligned with our questions. Even though two of us were focused on the device, the others kept their cameras going, documenting the moment and any reactions we had along the way.

There was something about walking the trail with the ovens stretching out beside us while running the spirit box that created a strong sense of connection to the past. Whether the responses were genuine or simply radio noise, the experience added an entirely new dimension to the visit.

Before leaving the trail, we spotted a historical marker near the entrance. We gathered around it to get a clearer understanding of the site's origins and its importance to the region. Learning about the hard labor, the production methods, and the people who once worked here gave more meaning to everything we had just walked through.

After finishing our exploration of this side of the property, we got back into the car and decided to circle around to the opposite end of the facility. This part of the location featured additional placards that explained the construction of the ovens and the operations that once powered the local steel and coal industries.

These signs provided a more technical perspective, describing how coal was heated in these beehive-shaped ovens to produce coke, which was essential for steelmaking. They also detailed the timeline of operations, the number of ovens originally built, and the eventual decline of the industry. Standing there reading the information made it easier to picture the ovens glowing orange in the night as workers moved quickly between them.

Walking around this side of the facility allowed us to view the ovens from another angle. Here the rows looked even longer, stretching out in a perfect line that seemed to continue forever. The symmetry of the arches and the repetition of their shapes created a uniquely photogenic scene, especially as the late afternoon sunlight hit the bricks.

Marianne, always quick with her camera, continued snapping one picture after another. Every direction offered a new perspective, a new angle, or a detail she would rather not forget. By the time we finished walking the second area, she had taken a total of 117 photos.

We took a few moments to stand together and talk about the energy of the location. Even without the paranormal equipment, the ovens had an undeniable atmosphere. Old industrial sites often carry emotional weight because of the harsh conditions the workers endured, and this place was no exception.

As we wrapped up our visit, we all agreed that the Leetonia Coke Ovens were far more impressive than we had expected. The size, the history, and the lingering sense of the past combined to make it one of the most memorable spontaneous stops we had made in a long time.

The adventure had started with a simple change of plans, but the experience left us with a deep appreciation for the area’s industrial heritage. It reminded us that sometimes the best trips are the ones that happen unexpectedly, without a rigid schedule.

On the drive to our next location for the day, we talked about returning during a different season or even after dark to see how the atmosphere might change. Locations like this tend to reveal different personalities depending on the time of day and year.

Looking back, we were all glad we chose exploration over work that day. The Leetonia Beehive Coke Ovens gave us history, mystery, and a touch of the paranormal, wrapped inside a landscape unlike anything else in the region. And with Marianne’s 117 photos documenting nearly every corner we explored, we knew this would be a location we would not soon forget. To see more photos from this location, click the "More Photos" button below.