My name is Tim Brown. I am the site owner, administrator, and researcher for The Hat Man Project. The purpose of this site is to research the phenomenon that has come to be known as “The Hat Man.” Reports of The Hat Man and other shadow beings have been on the rise within the last 10-15 years. It was due to my own experience and my awareness of other people’s sightings of The Hat Man that I decided to begin this research project. The aim of this web site is to explore the stories of the many sightings that have been reported. This is the very first and only web site solely devoted to researching, collecting, and archiving information and stories relating to The Hat Man. As more stories are researched and collected they will be posted on this site regularly.

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The Hat Man may well be one of my first memories. A shrink recently asked about the earliest things I could remember. Hanging other, far more vague fragments on a timeline of known events, I can say with clarity that I met him when I was about 2 1/2 years old. I didn’t know he had a name until today. In 1974, I lived in Springfield, Ark., and woke to see a man standing at the foot of my parents’ bed. It was about 10 p.m., likely a Friday night from other clues, and I had been put to bed alone at some point earlier in the evening. I remember sensing someone’s presence and thinking it was Daddy, who was in the military at the time and due to return home in the next week. In my mind’s ear, I still can hear Mama and my aunt talking in the living room at the far end of the house. No one else was home. We lived on a rural dirt road more than a mile from the nearest highway. The nearest neighbors were at least half a mile away. The room was dim, but the man was far darker, simultaneously camouflaged and defined by shadow. Two indistinct red glints suggested his eyes. He stood there at length, still and silent, then suddenly fled. He wore a caped trenchcoat and what I later came to recognize as a fedora. Neither of these was a common sight in rural Arkansas in the mid-’70s. Neither was anything I ever would see a relative wear. Neither was anything I would describe for anyone until today. His stature matched the track for a pair of heavy gold-fabric curtains drawn shut on a single closed window. There was no hat stand or coat rack in the room — just a plain dresser and open door to my left, a lowboy dresser along the far wall, and the bed in which I lay. This was a standard Ranch-style bedroom framed by right angles and wood paneling, nothing to lend itself to tricks of light and shadow. I […]

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One day my friend and I were sitting at the dining room table talking when I suddenly felt a lightning bolt flash through my head that doubled me over in my chair momentarily. As I slowly sat back up, I looked to my right and saw the ghostly figure of a man, approximately 6 ft. tall, clad in a long frock coat, with his hands in the pockets and he was wearing a broad-brimmed hat. He had entered the outside living room wall and swiftly walked straight across the living room into my friend’s sister’s bedroom where she happened to be at the time; she was reading a magazine on her bed, as I recall. Once he was out of sight, I looked at my friend and noticed that he was looking at me with wide eyes and his mouth wide open. I asked, “Did you see that too”? and he shook his head, saying “Yes I did”. We quietly walked into his sister’s bedroom to see if she had noticed anything strange and she was quite unaffected by the mysterious being. Apparently the “flash” effect I felt must have had something to do with the energy the being used as he penetrated the living room wall. My friend’s sister’s boyfriend had died in a car accident some eight months earlier and, at that time I thought the specter might have been his ghost coming to say “goodbye” to his girlfriend. Flash forward about 30 years and I began reading stories online about “shadow people” and “Hat Man”. Now I believe the two incidents may have been unrelated, but I still have questions regarding these strange beings. By William Tatum

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When I was little. I lived in a house were some strange things happened. My parents are skeptical. And any time I heard voices, a door slammed or else, they would always tell me it was my imagination or a dream. As I grew up. I started to see a shadow figure watching me from my bathrooms door. At the beginning it was more like mist. But it was something that was starting to attach to me. After some years the shadow I always saw, started to change. It began to take the figure of a human wearing a hat. And as this happened every time I saw the shadow I experienced sleep paralysis. Until the shadow vanished. As time passed the Hatman started to become more clearly in his shadow, the shadow started to acquire more detail. The shadow man was wearing Victorian clothes and had long hair. Then I just not saw him as a shadow but in my dreams, he was a pale man, that looked calm. But every time I dreamt with him. I felt my energy was being stolen. So every morning I started to wake up very weak, and with almost no energy. My health started to decay, but didn´t had anemia. Doctors said I was having my sugar levels very low. They gave me medicine, but it didn´t matter if the Hatman appeared in my dreams. After some years we moved on from that house, and I stopped seeing that shadow figure, or dreaming about it. Also I recovered my health with no medicine at all. I had never seen again the man in the hat. By Angel L.  

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I was 15 years the first and only time I saw him. It was in nov. of 1998, I had just had my son, (he was a week old) 2 days later my great grandmother died. I will never forget it. I was lying in bed and I woke up because I had to use the bathroom. Then I saw him standing beside my sons basinet. I was scared, so I pulled the covers over my head and layed there for awhile. Then I peeked my head out and he was gone, so I went to the bathroom (which was beside my bedroom) but when I looked out the door he was standing there in the livingroom staring at me again. Then as mysteriously as he appeared he vanished. I have never saw him again. By Heather Oliver

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