Candy jars and a good sandwich were the expectation when I walked into a small-town store. What I found was a brick building constructed in 1908 with a story that followed me home.
The upstairs rooms once belonged to a funeral home. In 1929, eight members of a family were embalmed on that second floor after one of the most heartbreaking tragedies in North Carolina history.
Today, the same space holds a small, thoughtful museum, while the floor below smells like fresh baking and old wood. The place holds both the cozy and the haunting at once, without making either feel cheap.
Walking through, the contrast is what stays with you. History, small towns, and a really good road trip stop all come together here.
North Carolina keeps this kind of layered story in plain sight. It deserves a spot on any list.
A Brick Building With Many Lives
I spent my first few minutes outside just looking up at the brick front, trying to picture everything this corner of downtown Madison has watched go by. The building went up in 1908, and it has worn a lot of different hats since then.
Over the years it served as the Hotel Sterling Webster, a hardware store called Pen Hardware, and the T.B. Knight Funeral Home.
Each chapter left little marks behind, from the creaky wooden floors to the tall windows that let the afternoon light spill across the shelves. You can almost feel the layers stacked on top of each other as you move from room to room.
Richard and Kathy Miller owned and cared for the place starting in the 1990s, and Michael Smitty Smith bought it in 2023. That kind of steady ownership shows in the details, because nothing here feels rushed or polished into something it is not.
My tip is simple. Take a slow lap around the outside first and notice how the building fits into the rest of Murphy Street, since it gives the stories inside a lot more weight once you head through the door.
Christmas Day, 1929
History is not always gentle, and the story tied to this building is one of the saddest in North Carolina. On Christmas Day in 1929, in the small community of Germanton, a farmer named Charlie Lawson committed a terrible crime, putting his wife, Fannie, and six of their seven children to rest forever.
He then took his own life in the woods nearby.
Only one child survived. Arthur, who was 19 at the time, was the only member of the family left, and his life was changed forever.
The news spread fast and far. Newspapers across the country covered the tragedy, and around 5,000 people came to the funeral, which is a staggering crowd for a rural area at the end of the 1920s.
Even now, nearly a century later, people in this part of the state still talk about it.
I found myself reading quietly and slowly when I learned these details. It helps to go in knowing the basics, because the museum upstairs treats this family with care, and visitors are expected to do the same.
Bring kids only if they are old enough to understand a heavy subject, and plan a few minutes afterward to just sit and let it all settle.
The Old Elevator That Carried Them Upstairs
Here is the detail that stopped me in my tracks: the family was brought to this building because it was one of the few places big enough to handle all eight of them. The T.B.
Knight Funeral Home had space on the second floor, and it also had something rare for the time, an elevator.
That same elevator is still in the building today. According to the owners, it is original, and they keep it closed because they do not quite trust a machine that old to carry modern visitors.
Honestly, I was relieved, since riding the lift that carried the Lawsons upstairs is not something I needed on my list.
The embalming happened in the room that now holds the museum. Knowing that changes the way the hallway feels, because the floor creaks a little louder and the air seems to hold still.
If stairs are hard for you, ask the staff about the best way to see the second floor before you go. Since the old elevator stays shut, planning ahead saves a lot of frustration.
A quick phone call can also confirm hours, which are usually Monday through Saturday, from mid-morning into early evening.
Inside the Lawson Family Museum
Climbing the stairs, I expected something spooky and over the top. What I found was a calm, carefully arranged space that feels more like a small history museum than a haunted attraction.
The Lawson Family Museum fills the old embalming room, and it is free to visit.
Displays walk you through the story with newspaper clippings, a photo of the family, a photo of Charlie Lawson in his casket, and pictures of the hearses lined up for the funeral. Funeral parlor equipment from the 1920s sits nearby, and it gives a strange, eye-opening look at how the job was done nearly a hundred years ago.
The exhibits also cover the building’s days as a hotel and a funeral home. That wider view kept me from feeling stuck in one dark moment.
Visitors often bring cash to drop in the donation box, since those gifts help keep the museum running. A few rooms and the third floor are roped off, so respect the signs and enjoy what is open.
Give yourself at least half an hour up here, because the clippings are worth reading word by word.
Cold Spots, Creaks, and a Netflix Moment
Let me be upfront: I did not see a ghost, and I was a tiny bit disappointed. Plenty of other visitors say they have had a different experience, though, and the building has built quite a reputation over the years.
People have reported voices with no one around, shadowy figures, and sudden cold spots in certain corners. Some guests say they felt a heavy feeling near the end of the upstairs hall, though not a frightening one.
The building was even featured on the Netflix series 28 Days Haunted, which put this small-town shop in front of viewers far beyond North Carolina.
Whether you believe in spirits or not, the atmosphere does a lot of work on its own. Old wood groans under your feet.
The light shifts as clouds move past the windows, and your imagination happily fills in the rest.
For a fun approach, visit on a quieter weekday morning when fewer shoppers are around. Pay attention to temperature changes as you move between rooms, and chat with the staff, who know the building’s history well.
Just keep it respectful, since a real family’s story sits at the heart of all this.
Candy Bins, Local Honey, and Upstairs Treasures
Downstairs is a whole different mood, and I loved the switch. The old timey country store is bright, cheerful, and packed with things you did not know you wanted until you spotted them.
Shelves hold jars of jelly, jams, local honey, pickles, special sauces, and bags of ground corn meal. Old fashioned candy fills bins near the front, and I grabbed some taffy without even thinking about it.
There is also a good spread of clothing, from comfy T-shirts and hats to outdoor apparel and jewelry.
Head back up the stairs and you will find vendor spaces full of antiques, vintage pieces, pottery, woodwork, and art. Many items come from small local makers, so your souvenir actually supports someone nearby.
Collectors could easily lose an afternoon up there.
Around the holidays, the front windows get dressed up with vintage Christmas decorations, and they are worth a slow look from the sidewalk. My best advice is to grab a basket early.
You will need it, especially if you plan to take home snacks for the drive and a gift or two for the people who could not come along.
Home Cooking and Front Porch Rocking
The smell hit me before I even found the counter. Briggs Family Kitchen sits tucked inside the store, serving home-cooked meals that taste like a Sunday visit to a relative who really knows her way around a stove.
Expect hearty, well seasoned plates, baked treats, and comfort food that leans proudly old fashioned. The kitchen keeps shorter hours than the shop, usually Wednesday through Saturday from late morning to mid-afternoon, so check ahead before you plan lunch around it.
Popular items can sell out, which means arriving early is a smart move.
After eating, I headed outside to the rocking chairs. Glass-bottled sodas and a checkers board make it easy to linger, and the outdoor seating welcomes dogs too, so your four-legged travel buddy does not have to wait in the car.
Sitting there, watching downtown Madison drift by, I felt the weight of the museum upstairs soften into something closer to gratitude. The building has held joy and grief for more than a century, and it still gives people a place to slow down.
Address: 104 West Murphy St, Madison, NC 27025
