By J’aime Rubio —
For several months now, the paranormal world has been glued to a spectacle — a tug-of-war over a house that never asked to be famous. The Arnold Farmhouse, a.k.a. the Richardson-Arnold house, a quiet New England home with over two centuries of real history, has been reduced to a battleground for egos, brands, and opportunists. Hollywood renamed it “The Conjuring House,” and ever since, people have been fighting over it like it’s a trophy. And now we have two parties at the center of the storm: Jason Hawes on one side vs Matt Rife with Elton Castee on the other.
Look, I am not on either one's side because I don't agree with what either group is doing or how they are doing it, for various reasons. Most importantly the only side I am on is the side of the house itself, and the families who represented the long standing history of this property -- not the miniscule footnote of less than a decade that the Perron's lived there, but the actual family who lived there 200+ years....their wishes and their feelings matter to me most.
Each one of the parties fighting over the house insists they are the “right” party to take over the property. Each one insists they will “do it the right way.” Each one insists they are the hero in this story. But when you strip away the PR, the fundraising language, and the social-media theatrics, the truth is simple:
They’re all exploiting the same house — just in different ways. And none of them are really doing it for history.
Let’s start with the facts.
Jason Hawes launched a GoFundMe asking the public to help him buy the house. He framed it as a mission to “preserve history,” but the reality is that by having others donate to this effort they are paying for a property that he will personally own, control, and ultimately profit from.
Meanwhile, Matt Rife and Elton Castee purchased the mortgage note from the bank that Jacqueline Nuñez owed for the house, giving them enormous leverage over the property. They also filed for a trademark on “The Conjuring House,” which has nothing to do with preservation and everything to do with branding and monetization.
Andrea Perron, whose embellished stories helped turn a normal farmhouse into a billion-dollar horror franchise, begged Jason to get involved. And let’s not forget that Jason’s daughter Satori and her fiancé Cody worked at the house under Nuñez, giving them a personal stake in keeping the house within their circle. Jason stepping in isn’t surprising — it’s family business.
If you want to know who truly cares about history, look at who shows up when it matters.
When I created the GoFundMe to replace Bathsheba Sherman’s gravestone, I shared the fundraiser everywhere.
The entire paranormal community saw it, because I sent messages to everyone including Jason Hawes and countless paranormal celebrities and influencers. Anyone who ever used Bathsheba’s name for clicks, views, or profit had every opportunity to contribute, but not one of them donated. Not a single cent.
The people who stepped up were regular everyday donors, a few fellow writers, local supporters, people who followed my work, and yes — even Jacqueline Nuñez, the owner of the house, who actually donated a significant amount. When the headstone was finally replaced and I shared it on my social media, suddenly the same paranormal celebrities who ignored my messages regarding helping with the fundraiser were now sharing my post as if they had been involved, Jason Hawes included.
Someone actually commented to him and thanked him for the post and for “helping,” and when I corrected the record — stating it was my post he was sharing and that in fact he hadn’t donated — he tried to say something along the lines of if I would have reached out, he would have donated. I did reach out. He never responded and he didn't donate, I know because I managed the GoFundMe account. Also, my comment to the lady, that disappeared shortly afterward.
Trying to stay relevent --
Let's just face the facts, the major television networks have dropped most paranormal celebrities. The era of big ghost-hunting shows is fading. Now creators are using streaming services to carry their series', and YouTube is way overinundated with jump-scare paranormal material.
So what’s the next move? Buy a famous haunted house? Brand yourself as the hero? Get the public to fund it? It’s a clever business strategy — but it’s not altruism.
I had a short conversation, if that is what you call it, with Jason on Facebook today, regarding my opinion of what is wrong with this movement regarding the house, and that despite the fact I made it very clear that the Kenyon family did not want this for their ancestral home, it doesn't seem to resonate with anyone.
People feel entitled to the property. It is as if they think the world owes it to them to be able to go there, to investigate there -- it isn't a state park! It is a house. It was someone's home, where they lived and loved. It was never meant to be the circus it has became ever since the Heinzen's purchased it from Norma Sutcliffe and it has spiraled downward ever since.
Going back to the subject, Jason's comment to me said everything: “Bottom line, it’s going to happen.” That one sentence revealed his entire mindset. Not, should it happen? Not, is it ethical? Not, what did the real family want? Just: “It’s going to happen.” It's nice that he says they want to share the true history, but whose version of the true history? Andrea Perron's? No, thank you! That isn't history, that is an overactive imagination's fictional fantasies. The only people who were claiming demons were in the house besides the Warrens were the Perron family. The ones who started this mess to begin with!
My reply to that:
And then we have Rife and Castee, who aren’t really pretending to be historians or preservationists. They’re not even pretending to be noble. They’re Zak Bagans 2.0 — circus-style paranormal entertainment. They want content, shock value, a paranormal theme park, and a spectacle. They’re not hiding it. Jason, on the other hand, wants to look like the respectable alternative — the “good guy” in comparison.
But exploitation is exploitation, whether you dress it up as philanthropy or parade it around like a carnival.
The saddest part of all of this is how the wishes of the actual family with blood ties to the property have been completely ignored. Pam Kenyon — the last living descendant with direct ancestral ties to the house — was clear: the house was not haunted by any evil force. Her family did not believe the home had anything dark and never approved of the Perron mythology. They were so angry when they first heard the stories the family was trying to push way back in the 1970s, and they immediately regretted selling the home once they saw it became a circus. They would never have allowed paranormal investigations there. They wanted the house respected as a family home. The Richardson, Arnold, Butterworth, and Kenyon families would be horrified by what is happening now. But none of these people care. Because to them, the house isn’t a home. It’s a product.
If Jason truly wants to be the “better” option, there is a way he can prove it:
Should he acquire the property, then why not turn it over to the Burrillville Historical & Preservation Society?
Not as a paranormal attraction. Not as an investigation site. Not as a ghost-tour cash cow. But as a real museum, curated by real historians, honoring the Richardson, Arnold, Butterworth, and Kenyon families — the true 200+ years of documented history.
If he did that, I would believe he’s different. If he keeps the house, continues to run it as a place people can come to investigate, then in my opinion he is exactly like the people he claims to be fighting against.
Just because you can exploit a historic home doesn’t mean that you should, and anyone who ignores the wishes of the families who lived, loved, and died there — in favor of profit, fame, or content — is not a steward of history. They are a participant in its erasure.
(Copyright 2026 - J'aime Rubio)
