From David J. Pitkin's 2005 book,
Haunted Saratoga County

Marvin’s Tavern

Along the Town of Malta’s western border lies East Line Road, and though there are scant traces of it today, there was once a prosperous settlement called East Line there. Several churches and stores, plus at least one hotel served the neighboring farm families. Sometime in the 1830s, William Marvin came to the little community on East Line Road, and a few miles south of Dunning Street, built a small tavern. For many years the locals quaffed a variety of beverages, slaking a thirst built up over hours of hard physical labor. But farming was such very hard work, and as the 20th Century approached, more and more farmers sold their lands and moved to nearby cities to work for wages. Marvin’s Tavern could no longer support its owner, and the building became a residence.

Through the years, the house had little upkeep and began to show its age. After being sold to its last family of residents, a young lad in the household invited a friend to spend the night while his parents were away. The two boys stayed up late chatting, and finally fell asleep. Lawrence, the son, entered the borderland between waking and dreaming and soon heard the raucous laughter of a man. Something in his wakeful consciousness reminded him that he and his friend were the only occupants of the house—no man was present. He awoke and looked over at his friend sleeping—it couldn’t have been him, so a puzzled Lawrence finally drifted back to sleep.

The old house had an upright piano in the downstairs living room. It became a focus for the boys’ good times. They sat for hours and played the only tune they knew, “Chopsticks.” Lawrence remembers, “The tip-off that someone else was there was the slight breeze and the change in the tone of the music, as if now bouncing off a surface very close behind us. We didn’t know what else to do, and rather than give into our fears, we just kept on playing. Have you ever been too scared not to move?” he asked. “At one point, the presence seemed to leave us, but when we started in on our next song, it returned. Our backs began to tingle as if someone or something was about to touch us. We turned to each other and said, ‘there it is again! Did you feel that?’ I asked him. Yeah, how about you?’ he answered. And then we sprinted outdoors!”

The two boys never felt at ease in the house after that, and when Lawrence grew older he moved away. Today he lives a few miles south of Marvin’s old tavern. In recent years it served as a storage building for farming operations on that property which had been willed to Lawrence, “Today, however, I never go in the place. I’m afraid old Marvin and some of his cronies are still there!”