Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts

Postcard from the Tombs

Entrance to the St. Louis Cemetery #1.
One of the most famous cemeteries in the world, St. Louis #1 in New Orleans, was established by Spanish Royal Degree August 14, 1789. Located on Basin Street within walking distance from Bourbon Street and downtown, it is the final resting place for many notable historic figures of New Orleans.

Because the city is actually below sea level, underground burials result in coffins floating to the ground's surface. The first cemetery in New Orleans, located on St. Peter Street, was littered with coffins that had floated up. The site was revolting to the general population and after heavy rains, the cemetery workers started off their workday by getting drunk in order to withstand the stench of the decaying bodies. The above ground wall vault system, popular in France and Spain, was used in St. Louis #1 to prevent "floaters" and the bodies located in the first cemetery were moved and the old place abandoned. Over time, elaborate sculptures and fancy decorative artwork embellishing the tombs resulted in this and the other New Orleans cemeteries to be known as "Cities of the Dead." 
Marie Laveau's crypt.

Plaque on Marie Laveau's crypt.
One of the most famous residents of St. Louis Cemetery #1 is Marie Laveau, the powerful Voodoo queen of New Orleans who was born in 1794. She married Jacques Paris in 1819 and had 2 children by him, but neither survived into adulthood. Around 1825, Jacques died under mysterious circumstances. Supposedly, the doctor could find no reason for him to be dead except he was. Marie was already known as the queen of all voodoo practitioners, had a poisonous pet snake she named Vidom which she danced with, but was never bitten and presided over bloody occult rituals.
 
The matter of her dead husband was not pressed by the police. Soon thereafter, Marie took a lover, Louis Christophe Dominic Duminy de Glapion. Records are sketchy, but she had at least 7 and possibly as many as 15 children by him, but only 2 lived to maturity. She was much sought after by black slaves and white masters alike for protection against disease, evil spirits, curses, bad luck in love, business, gambling, or other personal matters. After she died on June 16, 1881, there were many reports of people seeing her walking around town several days afterwards. Today, many people visit her tomb and leave offerings of coins, cigarettes, alcohol,  candles or Gras beads and mark the tomb in hopes her spirit will grant them a wish or protection. Evidently, she does not stoop to granting a winning lottery ticket - at least she hasn't yet for me.
 
The crypt climbed by Peter Fonda
in the movie Easy Rider. Note
the broken hand on the statue.
Close up view of the broken
handed statue.
Fans of the 1969 movie Easy Rider will recognize St. Louis Cemetery #1 as the place where Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper filmed the acid freak-out scene. They did not have permission to film there and in one scene, Peter climbs up onto one of the society tombs and while hanging on to a statue's hand, accidentally broke it off. For the scene, Dennis, the film's director, wanted Peter to speak to the statue as if he were talking to his mother who had committed suicide when Peter was only 10 years old. Peter didn't want to as he had never really gotten over it, but Dennis insisted. The resulting monologue, which was not pre-written, was shot in one take and you hear Peter call the statue "mother" and he states he both loves her and hates her. After the movie was released, due partly to the damage, but mostly because of the backlash against drug use, the Archdiocese (the Catholic Church owns the cemetery) began a policy of disallowing any filming in the cemetery except for pre-approved documentaries and educational films.

 
Old statue by a fallen down crypt in serious need
of repair.
A number of years past, the cemetery, which contains roughly 100,000 human remains, fell into disuse, the crypts began to suffer from age and the elements, and it was not a safe place  to go due to muggers, thugs, and drug users. In the last few years however, renewed interest has led police to clean out the bad people, the crypts are slowly being repaired and restored, and it has become a place frequented by tourists. I'm not so sure I would be comfortable wandering around it in the dark, but it was perfectly safe in daylight hours and extremely interesting. By all means, reserve several hours of a New Orleans trip to visit the St. Louis Cemetery #1. And be sure to tell Ms. Laveau I'm still waiting for my lottery numbers to come up!


Crypt of  a powerful voodoo practitioner.

An angel symbolizes a messenger from God. Clasped hands
signifies affection for the departed even in death.

A broken angel.

 
Another crypt of a voodoo practitioner still visited by people
who ask the spirit for protection or a favor.

The pyramid crypt Nicholas Cage had constructed for
himself when the time comes. The writing on the front says
"Omnia Ab Uno" - Latin for "Come from one."















Route 66 - Red Garter and Twisters

After leaving Bellemont and the Pine Breeze Inn, we continued west on the I-40 frontage road for about 1 mile. This is actually the 1941 - 1963 alignment of Route 66. The original 1926 - 1941 alignment is a little further south. We were going to take the 1926 alignment for a few miles, but it is now just a dirt road in places and there were dark rain clouds on the horizon so when we got to the intersection with I-40 and had to decide on which of the alignments we would take, we decided to jump on the freeway. I-40 is actually the 1963 - 1979 Route 66 alignment so we were still technically driving the Mother Road.

The next time I drive this section, I hope to take the 1926 - 1941 alignment and take the Forest Service marked auto tour through Branning Park. Interestingly, mostly because of all the different alignments of Route 66 over the years, there are different opinions about the location of the highest point along the route. Some claim it is Forty-Nine Hill (which you can see on your left as you go through Branning Park) with an elevation of 7,415 feet. Others claim it is Glorieta Pass near Santa Fe (7,432') or the continental divide near Thoreau (7,263').  What is not in dispute however is that Forty-Nine Hill is the highest point on any of the Route 66 alignments in Arizona.

Driving west on I-40 for about 20 miles brought us to the exit for the beautiful town of Williams. If I had to live in Arizona, I would want to live in Williams. The whole town is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It's almost like being magically transported back to the 1950's. Called "The Gateway To The Grand Canyon," this town of 3,000 people is located in the heart of the Kaibab National Forest at an elevation of 6,770 feet. Williams has the distinction of being the very last town on Route 66 to be bypassed by I-40. It wasn't until October 13, 1984 that I-40 opened a few miles from town, but an exit on the freeway, the beauty of the community, plenty of varied outdoor recreation opportunities, and a nice tourism industry have kept the town alive and thriving.
 
The Red Garter Bed and Bakery
Coming into town on Bill Williams Avenue (Route 66), we stopped at the Red Garter Bed & Bakery. A former saloon and bordello built in 1897,  this 2-story Victorian building is right across the street from the Grand Canyon Railway train which takes visitors to and from the Grand Canyon every day. After a nice cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun, it was fun to browse the t-shirts and books for sale. One colorful t-shirt in particular caught my eye ("Best little Whorehouse on Route 66 - The Red Garter, but unable to think of a single place I could wear it, I didn't buy it. The books were interesting - "Bad Girls of the American West," "The Bedside Book of Bad Girls," "Soiled Doves," and "High Spirited Ladies" were just some of the titles. OK, yes, I did glance through them, but I didn't buy any books either.  I did, however, manage to find out some interesting history.

Red Garter t-shirt - "Best Little Whorehouse
on Route 66"





Built in 1897, the building had a saloon on the first floor and 8 cribs (bedrooms) upstairs - one for the madam and 7 for the "working girls." There was also a small parlor for the girls to wait for a client on a slow night or for gentlemen clients who might have to wait their turn on a busy night. Catering to cowboys, miners, lumbermen and railroad workers, the girls, when not engaged in entertaining a customer, would hang out of the 2nd floor windows, giving the passing men below a little glimpse of what they had to offer and enticing them to come inside for a drink or two and then to spend a few minutes upstairs.

Arizona outlawed prostitution in 1907, but enforcement of that law was not vigorous. As a matter of fact, the saloon and bordello continued to do a booming business until the mid-1940's. Fighting in WWII took away most of the Red Garter's customers and then, some poor guy was murdered on the stairs in the building. The murder led to a crackdown on saloons and prostitution in Williams and with the lack of available customers anyway, the Red Garter shut its doors.  A general store and a rooming house did business in the old building until it was purchased by John Holst in 1979. He leased it out to a variety of businesses until he decided to completely refurbish the building and open the Bed & Bakery himself in 1994. The 8 small rooms and parlor upstairs have been converted into 4 larger rooms, each with its own bathroom. With names like "Best Gal's Room," "Big Bertha's Room," and "Madam's Room,"  they are available for about $125 - $160 per night. Showing a wry sense of humor, the establishment proclaims, "Celebrating over 100 years of personal service."

Interesting and humorous t-shirts and books in the Red Garter
With this building's history, you will probably not be surprised to learn there is also a resident ghost that visitors have persistently reported. Footsteps in the hallway when nobody is there, doors slamming in rooms that nobody is in, and even indention's in the beds, like someone sitting on the edge of the mattress, that appear and then disappear have all been repeatedly reported to Mr. Holst. A few people have even claimed to see the ghost - an Hispanic girl with long dark hair wearing a white nightgown and holding something in front of her (nobody has been able to tell what she is holding). Her name is Eve or Eva and if you ask Mr. Holst, he'll show you a very old photograph taken inside the Red Garter. In the photo are members of the Mora family who owned the saloon for many years and a suspiciously smiling, mysterious dark-haired Hispanic girl in the background standing in front of a mirror. The only thing off is the girl's reflection - it does not show up in the mirror. I just may have added to my Bucket List. One of these days, I would really like to come back here, stay for a few days at the Red Garter and take the train to the Grand Canyon. Now I just have to decide when and which lady's room my wife and I will stay in!

Twisters 50's Diner
Just around the corner from the Red Garter was our next stop - Twisters 50's Soda Fountain. This is one of the closest things to a true 1950's diner that you'll find. From the Cherry or Vanilla or Chocolate flavored Cokes to old-fashioned ice cream soda's to charbroiled burgers, hot dogs and chili dogs, to the 50's music that continuously plays, the food and the atmosphere are definitely rooted in the past. Well, except for the steaks and beers and wine they serve at dinner. I don't recall any diner I remember from way back when serving microbrewery beer! This place has consistently been voted one of the top 25 restaurants in Arizona. Sounds like a great place for dinner after returning from a day exploring Grand Canyon. Adding details to that Bucket List item!

After cruising around Williams for a while, we headed on down the road. Next stop - the Road Kill Cafe and the famous and quirky little town of Seligman.








Go to the first Route 66 entry here.
Or go to the first entry of each state:

Route 66 - Haunted Hotel Monte Vista

We stopped by the Hotel Monte Vista in downtown Flagstaff pretty early one morning so we didn't see any ghosts ourselves - everyone knows they only come out at night. Right? OK, so I've never actually seen a ghost, but it was still pretty cool walking around what is supposed to be one of the most haunted buildings in America.

The Hotel Monte Vista
Built in 1926 and opened for business on January 1, 1927 as the Community Hotel, it was the tallest building in Flagstaff for a number of years. Shortly after it opened, a contest was held to rename it since nobody liked the plain "Community Hotel" moniker. The contest was won by a 12-year-old girl with her suggestion of Monte Vista.

During the 1940's & '50's, over 100 major movies were filmed in and around Flagstaff. Since the Monte Vista was the best hotel around, many movie stars made it their home while working on location. Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Esther Williams, Barbara Stanwyk, Gary Cooper, Alan Ladd, Debbie Reynolds, Carol Lombard, Jayne Russel, John Wayne, Lee Marvin, Spencer Tracy, Clark Gable, Walter Brennan, Humphrey Bogart, Anthony Hopkins and many more stars have all stayed in the hotel's rooms. You can request to stay in the same room as one of these when you make your reservation. If your inclination is more musically inclined, you can request the same room stayed in by members of Air Supply, Jon Bon Jovi, or Freddy Mercury and Queen. I'm not so sure I would want to stay in the Robert Englund room though. He's the actor who played Freddy Kruger in Nightmare on Elm Street. He must have a sense of humor - on the door to his room (310) is a photo of him in full Freddy Kruger mode and he autographed it with his signature and the words, "Where the hell is room service?!!" I don't believe I would be delivering a cheeseburger to Freddy Kruger either!

For years now, the Monte Vista has become a legend for being haunted. Paranormal investigators and several TV shows like "Unexplained Mysteries" have all confirmed what many, many guests have reported - there's a lot of weird, unexplained stuff going on in this hotel!

For the best chance of a ghostly encounter, if you do not have a dog traveling with you, stay in room 305 (the Jon Bon Jovi Room). The hotel will not rent this room to anyone with a dog as they go crazy, barking and tearing the room up in their fear while trying to run away from something. In the late 1940's and early 1950's, an elderly woman lived in this room on a long-term basis. She would sit in a rocking chair for hours at a time, day after day, looking out of the window. Perhaps she was looking and waiting for a husband gone to war and never returned, nobody knows for sure. One day the cleaning lady found she had passed away, her cold body still sitting upright in the rocking chair, her eyes open staring out of the window. Since then, many guests have reported being startled by walking into their locked room and finding an old lady sitting in the room's rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth. But when they speak to the lady, right before their eyes, she simply "goes away." Other guests have reported hearing a noise in the middle of the night which woke them. Looking around, they find the rocking chair moving back and forth all by itself. Hotel cleaning staff have stated that if they move the rocker to another part of the room, when they return the next day, the rocker will be right back by the window even if the room has been vacant. They also have said that while going about cleaning room 305, they have seen the rocker begin moving so often that they don't pay it any mind. When finished with their chore, they simply leave, locking the door behind them with the rocker still moving slowly back and forth as the old lady's vigil evidently continues.

Another persistent reporting is of a young boy wandering around the halls. Most of the time, guests report hearing the whispering voice of a little boy behind them. When they turn back to look, sometimes there is nothing there and sometimes they briefly see the transparent figure of a little boy which seems to evaporate.  Occasionally, the figure will reach out to take the guest's hand. A cold little hand on their fingers is briefly felt and then nothing. Everyone has said it was like the little boy is talking to his mother and reaching out to hold their hand as they walk the hallway. There is no record of a young boy dying in the hotel so nobody is sure where this ghost came from or what he is doing eternally roaming the halls with his unseen mother.

If you have the courage, you might want to stay in room 220. An odd little man lived in this room as a long-term border. He had the strange habit of hanging raw meat from the chandelier. In the early 1980's, he was found in his room dead. The coroner's report said he had passed away 3 days earlier. Guests have reported the TV to come on by itself with the volume on high and sheets on the bed to be rumpled even though nobody had been in the room since the bed was made in the morning. Perhaps more disturbing are the reports of guests waking up in the night hearing someone pacing back and forth in the room at the foot of their bed, a man coughing, and then smelling raw meat.

Even John Wayne encountered a ghostly apparition during one of his stays. He and a number of other guests have reported hearing a knock at their door and a soft voice announcing, "Room Service." Upon opening the door, nobody is there. Guests in room 210 however, have reported this more than any other room and when they open the door, there is often a ghostly bellboy who slowly vanishes in front of them. Mr. Wayne reported he thought the ghost was friendly, he didn't feel threatened and it wasn't a particularly scary event.

The poor "Working Girls" were thrown from the
3rd floor window.
In the 1940's, Flagstaff's Red Light district was just 2 blocks from the Monte Vista. Sometimes, male guests of the hotel would bring back a "date" they had met in the district to their room for a visit. One night, 2 of these working girls were brought back to room 306 (the Gary Cooper room). It is unclear exactly how or why, but during their visit, they were both killed and thrown out of the window to the street below and the renter of the room disappeared. Since then, many male guests have reported a feeling of having a hand over their mouth and throat and waking up because they can't breathe. After awakening, they cannot get back to sleep due to a strong anxious feeling and sensing they are being closely watched.

For about as long as anyone working at the hotel can remember, there have been problems in some rooms with what they are convinced are ghosts unscrewing light bulbs. Most of the time the bulbs are merely loosened, but sometimes, a guest will check into their room and find one of the light bulbs completely unscrewed and lying on the floor. The housekeeping staff ensures all light bulbs are fully screwed in before a new guest arrives, but if you find a light not working in your room, just screw it back in.

In addition to ghostly couples dancing in the lounge and music coming from the lobby when no band is playing in the hotel, front desk staff reports the lobby phone will often ring, but when answered, the only sound is static and an eerie, other-worldly voice saying, "Hello? Hello?"

There are many more ghostly stories surrounding this place, but I think you get the idea. Sleeping with ghosts is not on my bucket list, but if it is on yours...


Go to the first Route 66 entry here.
Or go to the first entry of each state:

Route 66 - Two Guns

Welcome to Two Guns
After leaving Meteor Crater and rejoining I-40 (along here, I-40 is either actually on top of Route 66 for a few miles or the old route is on private property) at exit 233, we zoomed a whole 3 miles to exit 230. After turning left and crossing over I-40, we made our way to the ghost of Two Guns. 

The area around Two Guns, known as the Coconino Plateau, consists of rolling ranges surrounded by distant mountains. According to pieces of pottery and other items which have been carbon dated, the area has seen human habitation since around 1050. The Indians originally farmed and hunted in this area in the warm months and later on used it mostly for grazing their sheep and horses. By the 1700's though, the Apache and Navajos who were sworn enemies, began also to use the canyons for staging surprise attacks on each other and for staging raids on each other's camps.

Large water tanks painted with murals as you
enter Two Guns.
In 1878, a large Apache raiding party led by Nachise, the son of Chief Cochise, attacked a Navajo camp, killing over 30 men, women, and children and stealing all of the camp goods. For years the Apache would escape the vengeful Navajo chasing them by making their way into the canyon which ran through the area. There were many branches extending from the main canyon which gave the Apache numerous places to hide out. However, the Navajo had eventually figured out a particular trail in a particular spot where the Apache had to go through every time. As soon as they learned of another raid, the Navajo would send one party chasing after the Apache while another force made straight for the narrow path where they could block escape. They did the same thing after this particular raid, but the Apache vanished without ever going through their usual path. While they were trying to figure out where the Apache had gone, the Navajo force received word that the same raiding party had attacked another nearby Navajo camp, killing more than 20, taking 3 young girls as captives, and once again making off with all of the camp's food, pots, robes and blankets.

The Navajo were extremely confused as not only had the Apache raiders vanished without a trace, they had also not taken the ponies from either of the camps they had attacked. Their leader sent out a number of scouts on fast horses in a desperate attempt to locate the enemy before they made their escape. Two men, B'ugoettin Begay and Bahe, were sent along the canyon rim toward a cave in the canyon walls directly across from what would years later become the town of Two Guns. Arriving at the place, they crawled on their bellies through the sagebrush and weeds intending to get a look over the rim into the canyon below. As they were slowly making their way forward, Bahe was surprised by a blast of air striking him in the face. After getting over his initial astonishment, he cautiously leaned forward again and heard Apache voices coming up from below. The enemy had been found hiding in the cave!

The two men hurriedly made their way back to their main group with the information. Riders were sent to the scouts who were still out and the excited Navajo quickly made their way to the hideout cave. Stopping a short distance away, they waited until full dark before closing in. Creeping forward, they managed to silently kill the two Apache guards posted outside. Making their way a few feet into the cave entrance, they found it was just wide and tall enough to allow access for a horse. The resourceful Apache had brought their horses into the cave with them and had not taken horses in their raids because they would have had to leave a herd on the canyon rim giving away their location. Backing out of the cave, the Navajo made their plan for vengeance.

Leaving a few men to guard the cave entrance, the rest of the group climbed to the plains above and gathered dry sagebrush and driftwood. Stacking the debris into the cave entrance, the Apache heard the noise and tried to make an escape, but the first few were easily cut down by the Navajo guards in the narrow passageway forcing the rest to retreat. Once the entrance was full of the wooden materials, it was set on fire. As the heavy smoke and flames were sucked deeper into the cave, it became impossible for anyone inside to escape a terrible death.

The Apache began singing their death songs, but the Navajo were not moved to give quarter. As the brush burned down, they threw more into the entrance. Eventually, the Apache death wails subsided and the brush was allowed to burn out. The Navajo were able to see that in their desperation, the Apache had used what little water they had along with the blood from cutting their ponies necks trying to put out the raging fire.  They had even cut up their horses and threw large pieces into the fire trying to stem it. 

At this point, a noise was heard and the Navajo were astonished to see a burned, but still alive Apache pushing aside several pieces of horse flesh. He stumbled through and speaking in halting, broken Navajo, he made it understood that he was begging for terms for his life as well as several others who were not yet dead. The Navajo leader told him to send out the 3 young captive girls and they would then talk terms. The Apache though, hesitated and began making excuses. It was clear the captives had already been raped and tortured to death for their captive's pleasure.

Where the Apache Death Cave, supposedly now collapsed,
is located. We did not go into the canyon looking for it.
Furious, the Navajo shot at the Apache emissary, forcing him to retreat back into the depths of the cave. They then stacked even more wooden debris into the cave and lit it. This time, they didn't let the fire go down. It must have been like the very pits of hell inside the cave. Soon, death songs could be heard from a couple of Apache warriors, but they quickly faded away. The fires were kept going all night long until the morning sun was above the canyon rim.

That afternoon, when the cave had finally cooled enough for the Navajo to enter, they found 44 Apache warriors in their final grotesque, twisted positions where death had found them desperately trying to get just one more breath of air. The loot taken during the raids was recovered and the Apache bodies were stripped of anything of value. It would be the last raid by Apaches against the Navajo in this area. The cave is still known as Apache Death Cave and is considered cursed by all of the Indians living in the area as well as most anybody else who visits this site. It is said the few people who years later lived in Two Guns  would often hear the tortured whinny of horses along with human screams and cries of unbearable pain coming from warrior spirits who roam the canyon on particularly dark, still nights.

The abandoned campground building.
In the early 1920's, a bridge was built across the canyon just a short way up from the Apache Death Cave. A couple of years later, a married couple by the name of Earle and Louise Cunduff built and operated a trading post, campground, and rental cottages near the bridge. Shortly, a strange man by the name of Henry Miller came along and joined Earle and Louise in their enterprise. Miller claimed to be an Apache chief named Crazy Thunder so everyone called him "Indian Miller." Miller and his wife built a stone building across the canyon from the Apache Death Cave. They called their building Fort Two Guns supposedly because Miller always wore two guns on his hips.

Abandoned now like everything else, this was the last
trading post building.
Miller turned his building into something resembling a zoo which housed lions, bobcats, snakes, porcupines and other animals. He built fake cliff dwellings along the canyon walls which he advertised to tourists as authentic and charged an admission to walk around in. He even raided the Apache Death Cave, removing bones and selling them to the tourists. Indian Miller obviously had no fear of the curse.

The Cundiff's began arguing with Miller over his shady practices and in 1925, leased their store to a couple of drifters who came through. Just a few weeks later, Earle stopped by the store and found the couple had left in the middle of the night and taken almost all of the store's merchandise with them. It took almost everything he had to restock.

In early 1926, Earle and Indian Miller had another argument and Miller shot and killed Earle. He claimed self-defense and the jury acquitted him. A few weeks later, Earle's widow erected a headstone on his grave with the epitaph of "Killed by Indian Miller." Miller took offense at this, got drunk one night and destroyed the headstone. Not able to claim self-defense against a headstone, he was convicted of defacing a grave and had to spend several months in jail.

The "zoo" is now in severe disrepair. It won't be long before
it crumbles back into the ground.
The curse finally caught up to him. Upon his return from jail, he was severely mauled by his lion, just barely surviving and taking weeks to recover. Soon after his recovery, a lynx escaped and mauled him, once again causing weeks of painful recovery. His daughter was coming to see him during this time and was killed in a car wreck. It proved to be too much for even a colorful character such as Indian Miller and he moved away, never to be heard from again.

Former cages in the zoo.
Louise Cundiff had remarried by this time and she and her new husband re-built Two Guns and once again opened Miller's old zoo. They hung on for years, barely making a living until 1950 when they sold out. Over the years, several more people tried to make a go of things, but they all went bust. The town and surrounding area was purchased by a wealthy man in the 1960's and he hired a caretaker to live there full-time in a trailer and guard the buildings. The poor man committed suicide one night. Then, in 1971, mysteriously, most of the buildings burned down. And it has stayed that way since then, a quiet, eerie, cursed place with few visitors and nobody wanting it.

Ruins along the Canyon Diablo rim not far from the
Apache Death Cave.
As we pulled into Two Guns, it was indeed a bit strange. Most of the time when you enter an abandoned place, all you feel is a sense of history. Occasionally though, you get a sense of evil or that something bad has happened there. In some cases, it's just a vague feeling of unease, like I had in Glenrio, not that big of a deal, but there was a definite bad feeling about this place down by the ruins along the canyon. Perhaps it was because we had arrived shortly before sundown and it was almost night when we left. Whatever it was, I would not go out there after dark.



Why the last caretaker of this place committed suicide is no mystery to me. He was out there all alone. He must have dreaded the setting sun. There are places in the world, perhaps like this place, where it's best to not intrude on the spirits and things that go bump in the dark of night.


Go to the first Route 66 entry here.
Or go to the first entry of each state:

Route 66 - The Singing House Ghost

Near the Continental Divide along Route 66 in New Mexico
On a hill within sight of Route 66, west of Laguna, New Mexico and a little north toward the Continental Divide, lie the burned out ruins of a small adobe home and a close-by wooden-walled root cellar. Today, few people know the story.

Nobody knew for sure where the couple originally came from, but a few old-timers who claimed their parents knew them say Fort Smith, Arkansas. The truthfulness of this is in doubt though as even these folks cannot agree on their names. What is known however, is that a hard-working, but frail man and his beautiful wife were forced from their farm by the hard times of the early 1930's. Packing everything they owned in their ancient Willys flatbed, they picked up Route 66 in Oklahoma City heading west in search of a better life. In Santa Rosa, the old truck blew a rod and coasted to a stop alongside the road. With no money for a new engine, a few days later the man talked a mechanic into swapping the disabled Willys for an even older, barely running Reo. They made it as far as Albuquerque before it too died a junker's death.

The wife had a singing voice that was sweet as an angel's. She had sang in the small country church the couple attended, but she was very religious, totally devoted to her husband and wanted nothing to do with the seamy music business or fending off men's hands while working in smoke-filled dens of sin. In only a few days, however, the last of their money was gone and her husband was ill from walking the city in search of a job. Knowing their very survival was up to her, she dressed in her best and went from place to place until she found a club owner who would give her a one-night tryout.

That night, with the small club band playing behind her, she sang simple melodies in such a hauntingly clear, beautiful voice that the rowdy patrons hushed and actually applauded when she finished. The club's owner knew right away he had found a true talent and hired her right then and there.

It wasn't long before she had become the most popular singer in the region and she had earned enough money to move on. Her husband however, was still in ill health. Worse, he was demoralized by the fact he was still not working and was being supported by his wife, a most embarrassing situation for a man in those days. His wife, however, could tell the New Mexico air agreed with him as his color was better than she could remember and his persistent cough had almost vanished. He had also begun to whittle again, something he had given up several years before. He was very talented, rendering in exquisite detail the small desert animals he had seen while walking the edges of the city looking for a day's work for a day's wages.

One morning, the wife posed a question - why not build a home in the high country a few miles west? After all, he was handy with tools and could do a lot of the work himself. She could sing on weekends and help him during the week and maybe they could even find a market with the travelers on Route 66 for for his carvings.  Surprisingly, the husband liked the idea and they found a perfect building site on a hill with a view of the valley. They also found two Indian workers from the Pueblo who were experts working with adobe and the work of building a home soon began.

Every day, as the men worked and their home began to take shape, the wife sang to her husband and the workers as she worked alongside them. When the house was finished, the sound of her beautiful voice seemed to have become part of every brick and board. When the breezes blew, the windows which opened on opposite sides of the house, seemed to blow a soft, sweet trilling that rose and fell, changing timbre with the changes in the breeze. Their neighbors from the small homesteads around them often stopped by to visit and to listen to the house sing.

Winter arrived, but shortly before the first storm, the husband left his loving wife at home and drove off to deliver carvings to the souvenir shops along the highway. With a comfortable home and a great many carvings stored, the couple looked forward to a bright and happy future.

Accounts differ about the cause of the fire. Perhaps the wife tried to save her husband's carvings from a flash fire that engulfed their home; perhaps the fire was set by intruders. With no proof one way or another, it's a mystery which will never be solved. The only thing known for sure is the wife perished in the fire. The husband was beside himself with grief. After a few weeks, the poor distraught man simply wandered off alone, never to be seen again.

Only a few charred adobe bricks remain from the house that sang, but occasional visitors to the site swear  the sweet, clear voice embodied in the house can still be heard. Interestingly, when there is no wind at all, when it seems nothing in the world is moving, that's when it is most clearly heard. The soft notes do not seem to come from the ruins; they are simply there in the air, as if they always have been, and perhaps always will be.


Go to the first Route 66 entry here.
Or go to the first entry of each state:

Route 66 - Old New Mexico Ghosts

From Tucumcari traveling west, Route 66 lies under I-40 in places and runs beside it as a service road in other places, gently rolling along on the north side, crossing under to the south, and then back again. The landscape perfectly reflects the stereotypical desert southwest and dusty ghost towns lie every few miles like a string of fading jewels. With the weather perfect, the sky a deep blue, the bright sun shinning in our eyes, we lowered the sun visors in the truck and joined I-40 West at exit 329.

The Richardson's Store protected from vandals,
but still fading away.
Coming to the ghost town of Montoya, we stopped at the famous Richardson's Store. The store opened in 1908 and initially provided railroaders and ranchers with provision. It later expanded to serve the highway workers and travelers on Route 66.

In 1918, the state began improving the road between Tucumcari and Santa Rosa which lead to a substantial increase in traffic through town. In 1925, G. W. Richardson relocated his store across the railroad tracks to be closer to the road and in so doing, replaced the original wooden store with the current red sandstone building. This road eventually became part of Route 66.

During the 1930's and 1940's, Route 66 travelers found cold drinks and a cool picnic spot under the elm trees that shaded the Richardson Store. With a big portico out front to shade the windows and a recessed front door and high windows designed to let in light and a breeze, but not direct hot sunlight, the store was designed to be as cool as possible. Many locals as well as travelers bought sandwich makings and their favorite cold beverage to eat and relax a spell in the picnic grove next to the store. In addition to selling groceries and gasoline, Richardson also carried auto supplies, saddle blankets, work gloves, feed buckets and even windmill parts. Like a lot of other local stores in small towns, Richardson's also served as a community meeting spot with post office boxes and a postal service window.

In 1956, I-40 was built a couple of hundred yards south of the store. An interchange provided access for travelers, but the interstate caused a significant drop in business. The store hung on until the mid-1970's, but was finally closed. To protect the property from vandals, the windows were boarded over and a chain link fence was erected around it, but the winds of time are slowly taking their toll on the old girl.

Remnant from time gone by between
Montoya & Newkirk, NM.


Sorry, no more cold beer.





Interesting graffiti on an abandoned building.
Pay attention as you ride the highway through the plains here as it is full of history. For instance, it is along this stretch where you will pass over the famous Goodnight-Loving Trail along which cowboys herded thousands of head of cattle north to markets in Colorado and Wyoming.

Sad shell of the former Club Cafe - home of the best
biscuits & gravy in the Southwest.
A nice 12-mile drive west from Montoya will bring you into Santa Rosa on Will Rogers Drive. Santa Rosa itself is notorious for the vicious snow storms that suddenly pop up with regularity each winter. Supposedly, more motorists have been stranded in Santa Rosa than anywhere else west of St. Louis. If you come through here at night, it's a nice treat as there are still a decent number of neon signs which light the night sky. We came through in the late afternoon, too early for any of the signs to be lit up. Maybe on our next trip through here, we'll time it a bit better.

One of the things that is no longer open is the Club Cafe. From its opening in 1935, this landmark served thousands of Route 66 travelers and locals with good food and good service at good prices. Many proclaimed this place to have the best biscuits and gravy in the Southwest. Now for me, that would have been something to stop for! Once passed by I-40 though, traffic became sparse and like so many others, the place was forced to close in 1991.

Just west outside of town, you will pass over the Pecos River. Be on the lookout and you can see where in 1940, when Steinbeck's novel, The Grapes of Wrath was being turned into a movie, director John Ford used this spot for the memorable train scene where Tom Joad (Henry Fonda) watches a freight train steam over the Pecos River railroad bridge into the sunset.

Cerro Pedernal Peak
We had to rejoin I-40 at exit 267 to continue west. We looked to the southwest to spot the 7,576 foot Cerro Pedernal Peak. This is the site of numerous prehistoric flint mines. Ancient peoples made tools and weapons here and often would meet up with different tribes for trading purposes. A large number of artifacts, including arrow heads and tools, have been found throughout the area. Many stories of buried treasure have resulted in the summit to be scarred with the excavations of fortune hunters. Unfortunately, I was driving and Youngest-daughter couldn't manage to get a good picture so I found a public picture from a government web site to show you what you should be looking for.

Since we had to be on sterile I-40 anyway, it was a good time to make up some time. Youngest-daughter didn't argue when I suggested she relax from her co-pilot directions duties and she was soon sound asleep. I smiled and quietly sang along as I listened to the Oldies-But-Goodies satellite radio station (60's on 6) and pressed down on the gas. Exit 230 and Cline's Corners was just down the road.


Go to the first Route 66 entry here.
Or go to the first entry of each state:

Route 66 - Red Barn to Fort Reno Ghosts

Not finding any $10 bills floating around the old gas station ruins, we headed west to Arcadia and a famous round, red barn which promised some shopping for Youngest-daughter. She hadn't purchased anything for more than a day and she is so concerned about the country's financial problems, you know. She was just itching to help the economy.

That is one, big, red, round barn!
Built in 1898 by local farmer William H. Odor, the huge, red barn in Arcadia (N35 39 43.4 W097 19 34.9) is 60 feet across and 43 feet high. Heading west on 66, it sits on the right side of the road and is hard to miss. It was constructed with burr oak that was soaked in the Deep Fork River and then bent into shape. Why was it built round? Nobody knows for sure, but some old-timers said it was believed back then that round structures were tornado proof.  It was built to shelter farm animals and store hay and grain, but from early on, it was also used for social events. The barn had fallen into disrepair by the early 1970's, but the Arcadia Historical and Preservation Society completely restored it in 1992. The bottom floor is a sort of Route 66 museum and gift shop and the upper floor is a popular venue for dances, large meetings, and weddings.

Wash tub "swimming pool"
The gift shop did indeed have a large selection of items for sale - some cool stuff, some cheap touristy stuff, and some higher priced antique's along with a large number of books. Youngest-daughter ended up only buying a little knick-knack and I bought a couple of vintage Route 66 post cards. I found an old galvanized wash tub like my grandparents had which was my "swimming pool" when I was young enough to fit in it, but old enough to remember it. They would put the tub in the vegetable garden or next to my grandmother's flower beds so any water I splashed out would not be wasted. I thought pretty hard about buying it, but the price was rather steep and I would just be buying it for the memory with no idea what it would be used for or where to put it when I got back home. I passed it up and don't regret it.

Exposed ceiling inside the big red barn.
The ceiling above the 2nd floor was exposed wood and  presented an interesting pattern. I have no idea how many people that cavernous space will hold, but it sure is big!

On a side note - be sure to obey the speed limit signs in Arcadia. I had heard the local law enforcement folks  are rather free with writing speeding tickets and sure enough, I saw two of them, doing the classical hiding routine behind the side of a building and behind a tree with their radar guns out. I didn't get a ticket and now you shouldn't either!

Youngest-daughter in front
of Pops
After making use of their clean restrooms, we stashed our new goodies in the large plastic tub we had brought along to keep our souvenirs safe and dry in the back of the truck and after grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the ice chest, we continued our journey. Just outside of town, we came to Pops (N35 39 31.2 W097 20 06.5), an excellent diner, gas station, and convenience store with over 400 kinds of soft drinks! Opened in 2007, you can't miss this site either as it has a 66-foot high modern art pop bottle in front of it. Unfortunately, we were not there at night, but after dark, the structure is illuminated with LED's that light in sequence, changing color and giving the impression the bottle is being filled. We spent a fun 30 minutes inside just looking at all of the different kinds of pop they carried.

I have no idea where they get some of
these drinks, but they are very cool!
It took a while to make up our minds, but we finally purchased 6 bottles of soda - a Dr. Pepper made with real sugar the old fashioned way, a Coke in a glass bottle just because Youngest-daughter had never had a Coke in a glass bottle and 4 other cool soda's that I didn't even know were made; Route 66 Orange, Freaky Dog Grape, Grand Teton Grape and a Blue Whale soda. Unfortunately, I placed the carton on the back seat and when I opened the door at a later stop, the carton fell out onto the concrete and the Blue Whale soda shattered. Thankfully, the others survived the fall somehow and after carefully packing them away this time, made it all the way back home.

We soon ran into the suburbs of Oklahoma City - housing developments, road construction, strip shopping malls, and the beginning of rush hour traffic. There are few remnants of pre-1953 Route 66 in Oklahoma City and given my aversion to the hustle and bustle and overcrowdedness of large cities, this is the one spot where we deliberately veered away from the route and took the freeway to get through as quickly as possible. Thankfully, we were jut ahead of the stop-and-go traffic of everyone trying to get home from work and it didn't take all that long to get to the small town of Bethany, another suburb of Oklahoma City, where we rejoined Route 66.

Lake Overholser
After crossing the North Canadian River, the route curves around the shores of 1,500 acre Lake Overholser. Today, it serves as a reservoir for a water treatment plant and offers water-based recreation-type activities, but in 1941, this was the first and only body of water in Oklahoma to be officially designated as a seaplane base.  Transcontinental seaplane travel on Pan American Airways' "Clipper ships" was considered to be the best and most luxurious way to travel. There were high expectations this area would become the very profitable hub of a busy, commercial airlines business, but then World War II began and those dreams were put on hold. By the end of the war, government and civilian construction crews had built thousands of miles of long, straight, concrete runways all around the country and the era of seaplane travel was dead.

There are many stories of ghosts and haunted places on Route 66, but passing through Yukon (boyhood home of Garth Brooks), we came upon what is reputedly the most haunted stretch of the old highway, from El Reno to Fort Reno and on to Hydro. Fort Reno was built in 1874 and it's soldiers helped suppress the Indians, escorted cattle drives through the area, and guarded 1,335 German prisoners of war (they had been part of Rommel's forces captured in North Africa) as well as a few Italian prisoners during WW II. It also served as a Quartermaster re-mount depot until 1947. Horses continued to be raised and trained here even after 1947. Black Jack, the riderless horse used for President John F. Kennedy's funeral was born and raised at Fort Reno. The facility is now used as a grazing lands research center, owned by the government, with some of the buildings, but not all, restored for tourists.

Entrance to Fort Reno
There were many deaths in Fort Reno, attested to by the cemetery located about a mile down a lonely gravel road from the site - accidents, sickness, and at least one suicide. 62 German and 8 Italian prisoners are interred there along with a number of the fort's soldiers. In the Visitor's Center, formally the Commandant's Quarters, in the green-tiled bathroom, is where a Major Konat committed suicide in the 1930's after his wife left him for another man. The Major's spirit supposedly still roams the house, his medals rustling, his presence felt on the staircase landing where motion detectors are set off in the middle of the night in the locked facility. The Major changes television stations from soap operas to game shows the employees say, and they hear his heavy boots thudding across the floorboards upstairs when they are completely alone in the building. Lights go on and off after the facility is locked for the night. Water turns itself on and off in sinks. Pictures fall off walls when nobody is near them. There are cold spots you happen upon as you walk around the building.There is the unsettled spirit of Bill Stockwell who carries on eternally in the old guardhouse. He was being held prisoner in one of the basement cells in 1885 for a crime he adamantly insisted he didn't commit. He became very sick and the post's doctor prescribed treatment, but the bottle of medicine he was mistakenly given contained strychnine. His final words were to curse his accusers and insist they had not heard the last of Bill Stockwell. To this day, the sounds of someone sick and groaning are often heard in the guardhouse, chains rattle, and cold spots are felt.

There are other buildings on the grounds; buildings locked up tight so nobody can enter them due to their unsafe floors. There is still furniture in some of the rooms and the guides say the furniture is often moved around, but the locks remain undisturbed and there are no footprints in the dust on the floors. There is the story of the flickering light sometimes seen floating around the grounds. It appears to be flames moving from one location to another that quickly disappear whenever someone brave enough tries to approach. Some think it is the ghost of poor Hans Seifert, a prisoner of war who accidentally set himself ablaze while trying to light a natural gas stove just the night before he was to be released and sent back home after the war. He died trying to run away from the inferno that engulfed him. And then there is the documented story of the post's minister's funeral. His horse-drawn hearse was carrying his body to the cemetery when a bolt of lightning struck it, killing one of the 4 horses pulling it. Another horse was brought up and hitched to the hearse, but before arriving at the cemetery, another bolt of lightning struck the hearse, killing another horse and causing the hearse itself to begin smoldering. Men in the procession, as quickly as they could, hand-carried the coffin and the body of the minister the rest of the way to the cemetery,  threw him into the hole and ran back to the safety of their barracks, quickly passing right by the still smoldering hearse with the dead horse laying beside it.

We didn't see or hear any ghosts and we made it through without incident. I was hoping to maybe feel a ghostly tapping on my shoulder, but Youngest-daughter was fine with our lack of a paranormal experience. Maybe we would have better luck at our next stop, Hydro, and the apparition that appears to be an elderly humped back man doomed to walk the Mother Road forever.

Go to the first Route 66 entry here.
Or go to the first entry of each state: