The complicated history behind one of West Virginia’s darkest landmarks

Wide view of Warden's office at West Virginia Penitentiary on October 15. Credit: Sierra Worden/WVU Reed School of Media

A group of visitors trails behind a tour guide, their footsteps echoing down hallways that once held hundreds of men. The guide’s voice carries through the corridor, describing the daily brutality of life behind these gothic stone walls. 

As the group enters the first area of cellblocks, the guide describes the death of William “Red” Snyder, a convicted murderer who was stabbed 37 times outside his cell. There is a hush over the group of visitors as they pass the cell where the incident occurred. As the tour continues the tone also shifts, hints of paranormal tales are sprinkled in which catch the attention of the group every time. Stories of orbs, shadows and voices grip the audience as some take pictures to attempt to recreate. 

MOUNDSVILLE, W.Va. – The air inside the West Virginia Penitentiary feels heavy — the lack of any central heating system apparent as cold October air flows through empty hallways. The smell of stagnant air and rust is immediate upon entry. 

The tour comes to an end with volunteers agreeing to be locked in cells within the ‘new wall.’ Laughter and cheers ring out as the sirens blare, and large, rusty cell doors slam shut. After a minute, the doors are opened back up and the crowd moves towards the gift shop, laughter leaving the hallways as they settle back into steady silence. 

Behind the laughter and jokes of being locked away lies the truth of what went on within these old, brittle walls. Once a site of state-sanctioned suffering, the West Virginia Penitentiary has become one of the state’s top tourist destinations — a place where history, horror, and entertainment collide. 

Its transformation has breathed life into Moundsville’s economy and drawn international visitors, yet it has also sparked debate about how dark history should be remembered. As some celebrate its preservation and others question the ethics of turning trauma into attraction, the penitentiary stands as both a monument to the past and a mirror of how we confront it.

One of West Virginia’s most haunted sites has become one of its most complex – part museum, part attraction and part memorial.

For 129 years, inmates of the West Virginia Penitentiary served their time under harsh conditions that often made headlines for overcrowding and violence. At its peak, the penitentiary housed 2,000 prisoners, with three men confined in cells barely large enough for one. 

Executions took place within its walls until West Virginia abolished capital punishment in 1965, and stories of riots, solitary confinement and tragedy still echo through the corridors. The prison officially closed in 1995 after the state declared its small cells inhumane — but its history continues to be told by the tour guides who shepherd 2,500 a month down its halls.

Tourists, ghost hunters and thrill seekers from across the globe have transformed one of the state’s darkest landmarks into one of its most visited. 

Jalynn Sutton has worked at the penitentiary for a little over a year as both a historical and paranormal tour guide. 

“We have people coming from places like Japan, Germany and stuff to come and see it. It’s a really well-known place. We have people from all over the world who come for this,” Sutton said. 

The penitentiary offers a variety of tours, including a 90-minute historical tour, a lights-out flashlight tour of the oldest portion of the prison, photography tours, public and private ghost hunts, and a twilight tour. 

Ticket prices range from $15 for a simple group tour to $1,099 per person for private paranormal investigations.

Although the prison was reopened as a tourist attraction in 1998 for historical tours, paranormal interest quickly rose. Several major shows – like “MTV Fear,” “Ghost Asylum” and “Ghost Adventures” – conducted paranormal investigations. Fiction TV shows and movies like “Mindhunter” and “Castle Rock”  were also filmed on site. 

“We have a lot of people that come in and say they are believers, and they'll enjoy it. Then we have people on the night tour that come and say they don’t believe and don’t enjoy it, but whatever side you’re on, you’re still enjoying yourself. It’s still a fun time to have, to explore the pen and take a tour,” Sutton said. 

There has been debate over whether places with dark history should be turned into ‘dark tourism’ spectacles, but Sutton believes the Penitentiary has helped the community. 

Sutton, who grew up in Moundsville, says haunted tourism has brought new life to the small town. 

“It might have been a dark and gloomy place,” he said, “but now you have to bring positive energy when you go into it.”

Patty Kapinis travelled from Pennsylvania to Moundsville and says she came for more than just paranormal scares. 

“I love the idea that there’s a penitentiary this old that we can still tour and understand the history,” she said. 

However, there was a particular section of the history that stood out to her. 

“I think [Sutton] explained the bad conditions of what they all experienced in the mess hall, some of the things in the sugar shack, things in the basketball area. Just getting an idea of what it felt like to be here, it kind of hit me hard,” Kapinis said. 

For many, the tours blur the line between entertainment and education — between fear and remembrance. 

Complicated History

Once a site of suffering, the West Virginia Penitentiary now draws crowds seeking both history and hauntings.

That blur is exactly what concerns Sophie Slaughter, a WVU history major whose capstone undergraduate research focuses on the penitentiary’s complex legacy. 

She traces a long record of brutality — overcrowded cells, freezing winters and people mobilizing for freedom in spaces of real hostility and repression.

But she cautions that today’s focus on ghost tours and dark tourism often obscures what really happened inside. 

“People were killed by the state,” Slaughter said. “When we talk about these spaces as haunted, we have to be specific about where that violence came from. It wasn’t supernatural. It was structural.”

For Slaughter, the real story is about human lives, resistance and survival.

“This was a site of acute human suffering, but incarcerated people weren’t just victims. They resisted, they organized, they created art, they found ways to assert their dignity and agency even in the face of brutality,” she said.

She also warns against the idea that cruelty in prisons is an accident that can be fixed with better facilities. 

“Poor conditions are a feature of incarceration,” Slaughter said. “It’s not something that can just be solved by building nicer prisons. The system itself depends on dehumanization.”

Slaughter said it’s complicated when a historical place becomes a tourist attraction. 

“When sites of human suffering start emphasizing their paranormal aspects, it can become problematic,” Slaughter said, raising concerns that the incentive becomes selling tickets rather than telling true stories. 

Still, Slaughter doesn’t dismiss the importance of preserving the building. 

“There’s value in keeping history visible,” Slaughter said. “But we have to make sure that in telling these stories, we’re honoring the humanity of the people who lived and died there, not just their ghosts.”

The West Virginia Penitentiary was ultimately shut down due to lawsuits inmates filed against the state. 

However, Preserve WV Americorps member Trent Dayton, who serves with the Marshall County Historical Society, says the people of Moundsville generally enjoy the tourism attraction. 

“People in Moundsville, all in all, are very proud of the penitentiary. Not exactly of the dark history, but I have seen pretty much all support for it being a tourist destination,” Dayton said. 

While it operated, the prison opened a barbershop to the public, where inmates gave haircuts for 50 cents. It also hosted sports games, allowing the public to play against inmates or watch the inmates compete.

“People who lived here when it was open, which wasn't that long ago, a lot of people will actually remember the prison very fondly, and not as this big, scary building. They still remember it as that, but they also remember it as the place where they could go get a cheap haircut, or they could go watch the inmates play a ball game, or even go play with the inmates if they were on a local team,” Dayton said. 

The public could also buy inmate-made items such as jewelry, jewelry boxes and dining sets.   

“So some people have entire dining sets made by an inmate. Jewelry boxes were a really big one. Jewelry was also pretty common, so it, in a weird way, felt mildly like a community center, a very odd community center, but a community center nonetheless,” he said. 

Today, the West Virginia State Penitentiary stands as both a tourist attraction and a reminder of the past. Once a site of punishment, it now fuels local tourism and global curiosity. 

Yet, for people like Slaughter who study the state’s history, the same walls that draw visitors for their haunted history still carry traces of the real people who lived and died there. The prison’s transformation reflects West Virginia’s effort to preserve its history while grappling with how to tell it responsibly.