It sits there. Quiet. 112 Ocean Avenue isn't even the address anymore, technically. They changed it to 108 Ocean Avenue years ago just to stop the looky-loos from hovering at the curb. If you drive past it today, you might actually miss it. The iconic "eye" windows—those quarter-moon shapes that looked like demonic peepers in the movies—are gone. Replaced by standard square windows that make the house look like every other high-end Dutch Colonial on the South Shore of Long Island.
People expect a vibe. They expect the air to turn cold or to hear a faint scream over the sound of the Great South Bay. Honestly? It just looks like a place where someone pays a massive mortgage and worries about lawn maintenance. But the history of the Amityville house today is a weird blend of suburban normalcy and a legacy of trauma that the town of Amityville just can't seem to shake.
The Reality of 112 Ocean Avenue in 2026
The house is private property. That’s the first thing anyone needs to understand. It isn't a museum. It isn't a haunt. It’s a home. In recent years, the property has cycled through a few owners who all seem to share one common trait: a desire for extreme privacy.
Back in 2017, the house sold for about $605,000. That was actually a bit of a steal for a big waterfront spread in that neighborhood, but the "murder house" stigma acts like a permanent ceiling on the property value. You can renovate the kitchen and put in a new dock, but you can't renovate the fact that Ronald DeFeo Jr. killed six members of his family there in 1974.
The current state of the home is pristine. It’s got a large boathouse, a heated pool, and a sprawling deck. To the neighbors, the biggest "horror" isn't ghosts; it’s the tourists who still pull over in the middle of the street to take selfies. Local police don't play around with trespassers. If you step onto that grass, you’re probably getting a ticket or a ride in a squad car. The town has a very "nothing to see here" attitude that borders on aggressive.
Why the Architecture Changed
If you look at photos of the Amityville house today versus the 1970s, the transformation is jarring. The owners in the late 80s and 90s went to great lengths to "de-ghost" the facade. Those famous windows were the first to go. By changing the exterior look, they hoped to distance the physical structure from the grainy photos seen in every paranormal documentary.
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It worked, mostly. But the interior layout still largely mirrors the original floor plan where the DeFeo murders occurred. That’s the part people find hard to stomach. You’re eating dinner in a room where, just a few decades ago, something unspeakable happened. Some people find that fascinating; most find it repulsive.
Separating the Lutz Hoax from the DeFeo Tragedy
We have to talk about George and Kathy Lutz. They are the ones who turned this house into a global phenomenon. They moved in 1975, stayed for 28 days, and fled claiming green slime was coming out of the walls and a demonic pig named Jodie was staring at them.
Most researchers, including the late parapsychologist Hans Holzer, eventually pointed toward the Lutz story being heavily embellished. William Weber, the defense attorney for Ronald DeFeo Jr., famously admitted that he and the Lutzes "created this horror story over many bottles of wine." They needed a way to make money, and DeFeo needed a way to claim he was "possessed" so he could get a new trial. It was a business arrangement that spiraled into a pop culture monster.
The real story—the one that actually matters when you look at the Amityville house today—is the DeFeo family. Ronald "Butch" DeFeo Jr. used a .35-caliber Marlin rifle to kill his parents and four siblings while they slept. That is the only verified "evil" in that house. No demons. Just a man with a gun and a lot of resentment.
The Neighbors’ Perspective
Talk to someone who lives on Ocean Avenue and they’ll roll their eyes. They aren't scared of the house. They’re annoyed by the traffic. Amityville is a beautiful, affluent maritime village. It has great schools and a nice downtown area. Residents hate that their town is synonymous with a horror movie franchise that has, at last count, something like 30 sequels, most of them terrible.
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One local resident once told a reporter that the only "supernatural" thing about the street is how fast a crowd forms when a new TikToker tries to film a "ghost hunt" on the sidewalk. There is a collective exhaustion. The house is a wound that the world won't let scab over.
Can You Actually Visit?
Strictly speaking? No. You can drive down Ocean Avenue, but you cannot enter the property. There are no tours. The local historical society doesn't have an exhibit on it. In fact, if you go to the Amityville historical museum, don't expect to find much about the murders or the "haunting." They focus on the town's actual history—colonial roots, the brush-making industry, and its time as a posh resort destination.
The Real Estate Curse
Every time the house goes on the market, it makes international headlines. This is a nightmare for real estate agents. They get thousands of "leads" that are actually just horror fans wanting to get a peek inside the front door. To even see the house when it's for sale, you usually have to provide proof of funds or a pre-approval letter for a million-dollar-plus mortgage.
The "Amityville house today" is a case study in how narrative can overrule reality. The house is beautiful. It’s expensive. It’s well-maintained. Yet, it will always be the "Amityville Horror" house.
The Enduring Myths vs. The Dull Reality
There are a few things people still get wrong about the property:
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- The "Indian Burial Ground" Theory: This was a total invention for the books and movies. Local tribal leaders and historians have debunked this repeatedly. There is no evidence the land was a "sacred" site for the Montaukett people in the way the movie describes.
- The "Red Room": There was a small, hidden space in the basement, but it was basically just a storage closet painted red. Not a portal to hell.
- The Neighbors Didn't Hear Anything: This is actually true and arguably the creepiest part. DeFeo fired a high-powered rifle multiple times, yet no one called the police. The family dog barked, but that was it. No silencer was used.
Modern Pop Culture Impact
Even in 2026, the house remains a goldmine for filmmakers. Because the name "Amityville" is a town name, it cannot be trademarked. That’s why you see so many low-budget movies like Amityville in Space or Amityville vs. Bigfoot. They have absolutely nothing to do with the actual house on Ocean Avenue, but they use the name to grab clicks on streaming platforms.
This "brand dilution" has actually helped the current owners. The more ridiculous the movies get, the more the actual house feels disconnected from the fiction. It’s almost like the house has been buried under layers of bad CGI and cheap jump scares.
Steps for the Truly Curious
If you’re genuinely interested in the history of the location, skip the movies.
- Read The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson just to see where the myths started, but take it with a massive grain of salt.
- Look up the DeFeo trial transcripts. That’s where the real, chilling details live. The psychology of Ronald DeFeo is far more terrifying than any ghost story.
- Visit the town of Amityville itself. Go for the restaurants and the bay views. It’s a lovely place that deserves to be known for something other than a 50-year-old crime.
The Amityville house today is a testament to how humans process tragedy. We turn it into folklore because the reality—that a son could kill his entire family in their sleep for no good reason—is too heavy to carry. We’d rather believe in demons than believe in the capacity for human cruelty.
If you find yourself in Long Island, by all means, take a respectful drive-by. But keep your windows up, keep your car moving, and let the people living there have their peace. They’ve earned it.
Practical Insights for Haunted History Enthusiasts
If you’re planning to explore "dark tourism" sites like this, keep these pointers in mind to avoid legal trouble or being a "bad" tourist:
- Check Local Ordinances: Many towns with "famous" houses have strict loitering laws specifically targeting those properties. Amityville is one of them.
- Respect the "Private Property" Line: Modern security tech (Ring cameras, Nest, etc.) means owners see you before you see them.
- Focus on the Victims: If you’re researching the DeFeo case, remember that five children died. Approaching the story with empathy for the victims rather than excitement for the "haunting" changes the perspective entirely.
- Use Public Records: Most of what you want to know about the house—its sale price, its square footage, its renovation history—is available through the Suffolk County Clerk’s office or public real estate portals. You don't need to trespass to get the facts.
The saga of the Amityville house is likely never going to end. It’s part of the American grain now. But for the people on Ocean Avenue, it’s just Friday night, the tide is coming in, and the only thing they’re worried about is whether the morning commute will be a mess. Normalcy is the ultimate ghost hunter.