Postcard From Haunted New Orleans - Part 2

continued from Part One. 

Chief Dunderhead finally returned and gathered his flock to continue the tour. I noticed we were down to about 16 from the original 22 folks who started the tour. We moseyed over to the Beauregard-Keys House at 1113 Chartres Street. The house was built in 1826 for a rich auctioneer, Joseph LeCarpentier, but the name given to the house comes from 2 other residents, Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard and the author Frances P. Keyes.

Chief Dunderhead holding forth at the
Beauregard-Keys house.

This house is the scene of what is perhaps the most spectacular haunting in the city. There have been reports that late at night, there is sometimes a ghostly replay of the Civil War Battle of Shiloh where more than 3,500 men were killed and General Beauregard had a major role. Men with mangled arms and blown off faces wander around the house. Severed human limbs float in the air and the cries and moans of wounded men and dying horses fill the air. The furious sounds of war are heard, guns and cannons firing a deadly hail of lead and the smell of blood and death fills the air. 

The house has been converted into a museum now and the current caretakers say the story a ghostly battlefield is nonsense. The do admit though, there is certainly some unexplained goings on in the house and they also admit none of them will stay in the house during the night because "it gets kind of spooky in here." They report the windows will often rattle in their frames, even when there is no wind. They feel cold spots as they walk the halls and sometimes feel a cold hand brush against their arm. The worst though is the feeling that they are not alone even when they are obviously in a room by themselves. They say it feels as if someone is watching them.

The house is supposedly also home to a rare animal entity. Two psychics both stated they feel it is a dog named "Lucky," the pet of Frances Keyes when she lived in the house. When Ms. Keyes died in 1970, the faithful dog quit eating and drinking and would not leave the bed side. The poor dog laid there whining and crying until she too died just 2 days later. Caretakers and visitors have told of hearing a dog running down the hall behind them, but when they turn to look, there is nothing there. One time, a blind visitor with a seeing-eye guide dog was on a tour of the house. Upon entering the bedroom where both Ms. Keyes and Lucky died, the guide dog stiffened, raised its hackles and began to nervously shake and whimper. The visitor said, "Oh, you have a dog in here." The guide told her there had not been another dog in the house since 1970. "No," the visitor replied, "My dog never acts like that unless he sees another dog." As soon as the group left the bedroom, the guide dog calmed down and was once again his normal, calm self.

Another resident, Paul Munni, was a world champion chess master. While living there, he went insane. His last night alone in the house, he came running out naked, holding an ax and screaming. He ran through the streets trying to kill anybody he could get near, but fortunately, everyone managed to get out of his way or hid until he passed by. Police finally subdued him and hauled him off to an asylum. In addition to being a chess genius, Mr. Munni loved to play the piano and was very adept at it. The police have been contacted by people who do not know the building's history who were passing by late at night and heard beautiful piano music accompanied by a man screaming. When police respond, there is nobody in the house.

The sun has fully set by the time we leave Beauregard, Keyes, Munni and Lucky. I give the tour guide props for telling some good stories (when he's not talking about himself), but there hasn't been anything scary or weird yet. Now it's dark though and I got a bit of a spooky feeling at the Lalaurie house. The Lalaurie Mansion is considered to be the most haunted spot in perhaps the most haunted city in America. With the proven facts of the evil and depravity that went on there, if any place deserves to be haunted, it's this place. The story is not for the squeamish or faint of heart.

Dr. Louis Lalaurie and his wife Delphine moved into the 3-story mansion in 1832 and the place became well known for the lavish social affairs the doctor and his wife hosted. Guests dined on fine food served on exquisite imported china. The chairs and couches were covered in Oriental fabrics. Delphine carried herself in style and always exuded her belonging in the highest of society and she and her two daughters were known as the finest dressed ladies in the city. But there was another side to Delphine, some say a truly insane side. It was a side only a few were allowed to see, much to their sorrow.

Lalaurie Mansion (photo courtesy of  
Wikimedia Commons)

With their wealth, the Lalaurie's owned dozens of slaves who saw to their every need and kept the mansion in pristine condition. And Delphine treated them horribly. On days when she held a party, out of eyesight of the guests of course, she chained her cook to the fireplace in the kitchen until everyone had eaten their fill and departed. She would become angered if she found dust on any furniture and would chain the maid to a wall and use a horse whip on them. Eventually, the neighbors began whispering that something was not right in the Lalaurie house. Screams of pain could sometimes be heard. The slaves seemed to disappear and new ones replace them too often to be normal. 3 different stable boys came and went in a matter of months and none of them were ever seen again. One day a neighbor was returning home when she heard a scream and witnessed a small slave girl, Lia, aged 12 and known to be Delphine's personal maid, being chased across the flat roof of the mansion by Delphine with a whip in her hand. The young girl reached the edge of the roof and without hesitation, jumped to her death. The neighbor then witnessed Delphine emerge from the house with a shovel, grab the dead girl by the arm and drag the body into the small back yard where she dug a shallow grave and buried it.

Even though the law in those dark days allowed slavery, there was a law against mistreatment of slaves. The neighbor reported what she had seen to the authorities and all of the Lalaurie slaves were confiscated and resold. Unfortunately for them, Delphine persuaded other members of her family to buy all the slaves and then give them back to her.

The stories of something strange going on in the house continued and soon, party invitations were being declined and the Lalaurie's were no longer being invited to social events. In short order, they were being politely ignored by other members of high society. Then one day a fire, perhaps set by the cook who couldn't take any more abuse, broke out in the kitchen and raced through the house. Firefighters managed to extinguish the blaze, but in the process, a hidden, secret door was found in an upstairs hallway.

Behind the door, firemen found 12 slaves chained to the wall. Men, women, and several children, all naked and in pitiful condition. Several more were chained to homemade operating tables. Two were painfully compressed and confined in dog cages. Their arms and legs had been broken to fit them into the cages. Human body parts were strewn around; heads and severed limbs were found in buckets. Whips and board paddles were hung from the walls and men's severed body parts were lined up on a shelf like trophies. There were more sick depravities visited on these poor people, but I'll stop the description here. It was reported the firemen, men who in their careers had seen human bodies in horrible situations, retreated from the room and threw up. Needless to say, only a truly sick, psychotic mind could even think of such things, much less actually doing them.

When word got out of the discovery, a mob carrying hanging ropes surrounded the house. Before they could break in however, a carriage pulled by 2 horses burst from behind the gate and the Lalaurie's made their escape. Nobody knows for sure where they went or what happened to them as they were never seen in New Orleans again and there has been no record discovered about them after that day.

Within days, the house had been broken into, ransacked and left in damaged condition. It stood vacant for years until a man purchased it from the city for a pittance. He began repairs and moved in, but stayed only 3 months before fleeing. He told the neighbors he couldn't take the screams and moans any more. Again, it remained empty for years. Even the homeless who went inside for shelter would not stay and would even come running out into a cold rainstorm in the middle of the night. Over the years, a few people tried to use the place; it was turned into apartments, but invariably, tenants would leave in a few weeks in spite of the extremely low rent being charged. One tenant left in the middle of the night and told the manager a naked black man had attacked him, but when he screamed, the naked man vanished. One young mother left when she awoke one night to find an elegant woman dressed in fine clothing bent over the crib holding her baby. When the mother made a sound, the entity looked at her with "evil eyes" and disappeared. There were claims of pets being butchered. Children were supposedly attacked by a smoky phantom welding a whip. Everyone complained of hearing moans and cries.

The house at one point was turned into a saloon named appropriately enough, "The Haunted Saloon." It closed when the owner kept having trouble with employees abruptly quitting. It was turned into a furniture store which wasn't successful. The owner thought vandals were breaking in at night because he would find the inventory covered in a black, stinking liquid. After this happened several times, he spent the night in the store with his shotgun and was positive nobody had gotten in, but in the morning, he once more found his merchandise covered in the strange liquid. He closed the store that same day.

Nicolas Cage purchased the house in 2007, but suffered financial setback after his purchase and the property was foreclosed on Friday the 13th, 2010. He never spent a night in it. Today, the Lalaurie Mansion is owned by Regions Bank and has been totally renovated and turned into luxury apartments. Rumor has it that priests and an exorcist were brought in to cleanse the building. Maybe that worked. However, perhaps there's still something there. You may notice the picture posted here is from a royalty-free source rather than one I took like the others. I have a very dependable Nikon 35mm digital camera that I keep in very good condition. It has never given me any trouble and takes great pictures. I took several shots of the Lalaurie Mansion and when I looked at them after taking the picture, they looked fine. When I got back to our hotel and downloaded them to my computer, the pictures were nothing but white. I looked on the card - white. I didn't change any settings and the pictures I took before and after are perfectly fine, just not the Lalaurie Mansion photos. Chill bumps on my arms!

Our next destination was a bar which used to be a house of ill repute and I'm sad to say, it was kind of forgettable. Again, Chief Dunderhead claimed it belonged to a friend of his and urged us to buy drinks as we went into a back outdoor patio which had a somewhat large tree in it. The story here was that a young prostitute, new to the profession, fell in love with a sailor. He asked her to marry him and said he was going to make one more voyage overseas to earn enough money to buy a house for them. She faithfully kept going to the docks waiting and watching for his ship to return, but it was long overdue and assumed to be lost at sea with all hands. The older ladies made fun of her for thinking she could escape the life she had been forced into by circumstances. One night, deep in despair, she made her way into the courtyard and hung herself from the same tree under which we sat. Supposedly, there have been reports that some nights a wispy, ghostly female can be seen hanging from the tree. I intently looked, but probably needed several more adult beverages before I would be seeing anything hanging from the tree other than a few leaves.  To be honest, the bar wasn't that interesting and Chief Dunderhead told the story like he was more than ready to end this thing and join his friend at the bar. It was a disappointing ending to the tour.

Back to our car parked at Jackson Brewery after
the ghost tour.

I counted the people sitting around the tables in our group when we broke up and found there were only 13 of us left. Seems to me that when almost 50% of your group leaves a walking tour before it is over, then maybe it wasn't exactly the biggest thrill. There were certainly parts that were interesting. Talking to some of the other folks in our group was fun. The way our guide kept urging us to buy drinks from his friend's bars kind of irked me and probably contributed to my less than thrilled feelings for the tour. I think you can do better and get out cheaper by buying one of the many "ghosts of New Orleans" books and mapping out a walking tour of your own. That's what we'll do the next time we are in New Orleans, and there will definitely be a next time. We're already looking forward to it, but I'm pretty sure we'll give the Lalaurie Mansion a wide berth!
 

Postcard From Haunted New Orleans - Part 1

No building or office for Haunted History Tours - just this
sign and a card table set up on the sidewalk.

Ghosts and goblins all year 'round! New Orleans has a long history filled with pirates, battles, voodoo practitioners, evil people, deranged people, sinister people, bloodshed and natural disasters with much loss of life. Is it any wonder it is well deserving of its reputation as one of the most haunted places in America? And one of the more successful businesses in town is Haunted History Tour. For $25 per adult and $14 per child, it seemed like an OK deal, especially since I qualified for the senior discount of $7 off. We signed up and, as instructed, were at Reverend Zombie's Voodoo Shop 30 minutes ahead of the 6:00 pm tour start time.

Our tour guide and his dog.

Along with 19 other thrill seekers, the Mama-woman, Youngest-daughter and I eagerly waited across the street from the card table set up on the sidewalk in front of the Voodoo shop (which led to several concerns about this being a fly-by-night operation and the safety of our credit card number) for our tour guide. A rather strange-looking guy with long grey hair wearing a silk puffy shirt, black pants, derby hat and a small dog on a red leash finally made his way over to us at 6:10. He told us he was going to tell us stories that were profound and profane and if anybody was easily embarrassed then we should get our money back and go away. I found him to be cocky and very condescending, but we'd done paid our money so...

We walked a couple of blocks down the road to the back of the St. Louis Cathedral. We stopped and he began telling a story, but first, he informed us that he was "the real deal," born and raised in the swamps around New Orleans and a full-blooded Indian. He lives in the French Quarter and knows all the stories and all the people and there are stories told about him. He has plenty of women friends because they find him "interesting, a bit scary, a bit dangerous...and they like my dog." I didn't find him to be any of those things, but his dog was kinda cute.

St. Louis Cathedral

Most people are well aware of the St. Louis Cathedral as it is one of the iconic pictures of New Orleans. Chief Dunderhead (the honorary name I gave our guide in my head) finally got around to telling the interesting history that we didn't know. There have actually been 4 churches where the cathedral now stands. The first, built in 1718, was a small, wooden temporary structure. The building which replaced it was made of brick and timber and completed in 1727. This building completely burned in the great fire of 1788. The building which replaced it was completed in 1794. It contained the famous two round side steeples, but the central bell tower, designed by Ben Henry Latrobe, the architect who designed the White House, wasn't added until 1819. An even larger building was needed by the mid-1850's so a major renovation was undertaken. During this renovation to add more space, the middle bell tower collapsed which caused much more of the building to be rebuilt than was planned. This is the current building which is now over 160 years old.

In 1764, the King of France gave Louisiana to the Spanish in the Treaty of Fountainbleu. The people of New Orleans though, were not informed of this before a group of Spanish soldiers showed up, took down the French flag and replaced it with a Spanish flag. Thinking they were being invaded, the Creole people banded together with six men serving as their leaders and drove out the Spanish soldiers. Of course, the Spanish didn't appreciate this so in 1769, 24 war ships carrying hundreds of fully armed soldiers arrived to assert Spanish ownership. A new merciless governor arrived with the troops and ordered the 6 leaders of the Creole brought to him. They tried to tell him they didn't know about the treaty when they drove out the earlier Spanish, but he paid no heed to their pleas and order them to be hanged in the courtyard of the St. Louis Cathedral. He also issued a decree that nobody was allowed to touch the hanged men; they were to be left hanging until their bodies rotted as a warning to anyone else who dared question his authority. Anyone caught trying to remove the bodies would join them.

The priest of the cathedral, Pere Dagobert, pleaded with the governor, but was told to stop asking or the next time he would suffer the same fate. Soon, the bodies began to stink and birds began to eat the decaying flesh. Even the Spanish soldiers were repulsed and thought the governor had gone too far. Finally, during one stormy night, Father Dagobert gathered the families of the six men, cut down the bodies and placed them in pine boxes. He then loudly sang mass in his clear, distinctive voice and led a funeral procession to St. Peter's Cemetery where the men's remains were buried in unmarked graves. The sympathetic Spanish soldiers conveniently had to go inside for a bathroom break or for protection from the storm and were all temporarily away from their posts so nobody stopped the priest's activities. Word soon got to the governor, but even he figured out that if he hung the beloved priest, there would be such a backlash that he would not be able to trust his own soldiers with his safety. Father Dagobert was replaced by a Spanish monk as leader of the church, but he continued to oversee his flock until he died of natural causes and was honored by being buried under the altar.

For many years, personal sightings and experiences have been reported of Father Pere Dagobert and the 6 unfortunate executed men. Nothing strange seems to happen during the day, but once the cathedral is closed to the general public in the afternoon, witnesses tell of faintly hearing mass sang in a clear, beautiful voice at the altar. The singing then travels down the aisle toward the doors and a bright light moves from window to window until the voice fades as it seems to head out the doors and on toward where St. Peter's Cemetery was located. During stormy evenings, the ghostly image of Father Dagobert often materializes and can be seen by the living, kneeling in prayer. Perhaps he still prays for peace for the 6 executed men, or maybe he simply continues to pray for the safety and well being of the city and church he loved. And whenever he can be seen, visages of the 6 men can also be seen in the shadowy doorways and corners of the church, standing ready to assist him, forever grateful for giving them a proper funeral.

The Andrew Jackson Hotel

Walking to the Andrew Jackson Hotel, stopping along the way so Chief Dunderhead's little dog could leave a deposit on a little patch of grass, he kept up a continuous chatter (Chief Dunderhead, not the little dog who never barked or exhibited any signs of being possessed) of how he is an actor and how he knows all the alleyways and nooks and crannies where the underbelly of New Orleans can be seen. Arriving at the Andrew Jackson Hotel on Royal Street, we found out the structure had been built on the site of an old boarding school which had caught fire in the late 1700's and burned to the ground killing 5 children who were unable to escape. For over 200 years now, hotel guests have reported hearing children playing in the courtyard late at night, especially when the moon is full. Some have reported hearing children laughing and squealing like they are playing chase at 3:00 AM, but when the guest looks in the courtyard to see why children are up so late and making so much noise, even in the bright moonlight they can see there is nobody there, not anybody living anyway. And the noises abruptly stop.

Chief Dunderhead in front of Madame John's Legacy

On Dumaine Street is a house called Madame John's Legacy. It was built for Jean ("John") Paschal, a sailor who was killed in the Natchez Massacre of 1729. His widow remained in the home until 1777. The house served as a set in the movie "Interview With The Vampire" in 1994. The scene is of caskets being carried out of the house and placed in horse-drawn hearses and Lewis (Brad Pitt) reveals Lestat's (Tom Cruise) "mischievous" practice of feasting on French Quarter families. However, the spirits reported in the area are most probably due to the yellow fever epidemic which struck in 1853. In this city of 154,000 people, almost 8,000 died in a few short months. In the month of August that year, 1,186 died the first week, 1,526 died the second week, 1,534 the third week, and 1,628 the fourth week. The streets were deserted from fear as the cause of the disease was unknown at that time. So many people died that bodies in the French Quarter were simply piled up outside on the sidewalks of Dumaine Street to wait for the hospital's death carriages to come by and pick them up. It was not uncommon for there to be several dozen anonymous bodies piled up each day in front of the house now known as Madame John's Legacy. Carriages used as hearses would haul 8 - 10 coffins each to the cemeteries. Confusion and delays at the cemeteries were unavoidable so lines of hearses 2 to 3 miles long were often waiting at the gates. The hot August sun, high humidity, lack of time to embalm any of the bodies and the hastily built simple knot-holed pine coffins containing the quickly decaying bodies rendered the air putrid. It's no wonder the spirits of these poor departed are restless.

The elementary school Mr. Simmons attended.

Chief Dunderhead then led us, after stopping for his dog to squat and pee on the sidewalk, to what he called the scariest building in New Orleans. A frightening person once inhabited this building, a person so scary that grown men whimper just from the thought of him, hardened criminals cringe, Hell's Angels turn and run. It is the elementary school building where Milton T. Simmons went to grade school. Most of us know him as Richard Simmons. And before you leave nasty messages for me, those were Chief Dunderhead's words, not mine. Evidently he considers himself to be a comedian as well.

About 45 minutes of our 2-hour tour had expired with 10 minutes of that spent waiting on the tour to start. We now followed our intrepid guide to a spot which is supposed to be very haunted. Nothing happened while we were there so I can't say anything about the haunting, but the building certainly had some interesting history - Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop on Bourbon Street. The structure was built in 1772 and remained untouched by the great fires of 1788 and 1794. Jean Lafitte and his brother Pierre ran a most profitable business from this building by outfitting and financing pirates who plundered goods from ships at sea and then brought the ill gotten booty back to the Lafitte's business to be sold. Since they avoided government fees and taxes, the goods could be sold far cheaper than the honest businessmen could sell their legal wares and soon, almost everyone else was out of business. Eventually, to speed up the process and to ensure all of the captured goods were brought back to their store, they purchased their own ships and became pirates themselves.

Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop

Jean was a good looking man as well as being rich and welding a lot of influence in the city so he had many mistresses and lovers, but he only had one true love in his life - the wife of the governor of Louisiana. When the governor found out about the affair, Jean had an enemy even more influential than he. The authorities became interested in the Lafitte brother's business and eventually closed it down and arrested not only the Lafittes, but their men as well. The war of 1812 was providential for the brothers. They offered themselves, their men and their ships in service against the British and after valiantly helping to win the Battle of New Orleans, were pardoned by President Madison.

The Lafittes moved their operations to the gulf coast of Texas and went back to being pirates after their pardon. After moving several more times when the heat from authorities became too great, the Lafitte brothers faded from the scene with Pierre dying from an illness in 1821 and Jean supposedly being killed in battle as a pirate while trying to capture several Spanish vessels. Some historians however, claim he survived the battle and returned to New Orleans where he changed his name and retired on his pirate riches.

Jean was known to hide a large stash of gold within the brick walls of the structure's fireplace. For many years now the building has been a neighborhood bar and patrons claim to have seen a pair of red eyes watching them from within the fireplace. There have also been reports of inexplicable cold spots near the fireplace even when there is a roaring fire. Several paranormal investigators have said they feel an aura of "unwholesomeness" near the fireplace. Bar patrons sitting near the fireplace have also reported being touched by a cold hand, but when they turn, nobody is there. Jean is known to have smoked cigars and there is often the distinct aroma of cigar smoke in the area. There have been a number of reports of Jean's ghost materializing in the women's restroom. Evidently, his penchant for women remains even in death. Most disturbing, however, are the reports of people seeing a ghostly Jean appearing in corners looking annoyed at the living and twirling his mustache in his fingers. When seen, the figure quickly disappears. There is a mirror upstairs where Jean lived which is reputed to often have the visage of a woman reflected in it. Perhaps it is Jean's true love, the wife of the Louisiana governor who no doubt enjoyed numerous afternoon trysts in the room. Perhaps it is simply some poor forgotten girl who fell hard for Jean, but was rejected by him after he was finished with her.

Chief Dunderhead then told us he needed a break to wet his whistle and we probably did too and since he is good friends with the owner of Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, we should all try one of the establishment's famous drinks and then take advantage of the bar's bathrooms. And with that, he walked off and left us for the next 30 minutes. We waited for our guide to return and we waited for dusk to become full night. We still had sites to see and Chief Dunderhead told us ghosts come out after dark. Perhaps the best is yet to come.

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:

Illinois   Missouri   Kansas   Oklahoma   Texas   New Mexico   Arizona   California 

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.

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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.

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Smiley, A Texas Ghost

Quiet, peaceful Mills Cemetery - by day

In the city of Garland, Texas, which just happens to be my hometown, is a creepy ghostly legend. Mills Cemetery, located on Commerce St. 1 block from the intersection of Rt. 66 & Centerville Rd., was established in 1860. Within this cemetery is an individual grave, a mass grave which holds all 5 members of a single family. It is well known locally as “Smiley’s Grave.” The poor, unfortunate members of the Smiley family all died on the same day and they share a moderate-sized individual tombstone which reads; Smiley – Mother Belle Hall, Oct. 30, 1890; Father Chas. Oscar, Mar 17, 1890; Daughters Lilath Merle, June 20, 1914; Greeta May, Oct 27, 1915; Charlena, Feb 20, 1926; All Died May 9, 1927. A family of 5 all buried in the same grave and all died on the same day? That fact alone begs an answer to the question of, ”What the hell happened?”

But maybe not so peaceful in 
the dark hours

The story goes that Smiley was a mean man; a very mean man. One dark, overcast day, for reason or reasons unknown, Smiley became a very angry mean man. So angry that in his rage, he killed his wife and three daughters. A short time later when his anger subsided and he realized what he had done, he hung himself in remorse.

The Smiley Family headstone

Mills Cemetery is peaceful by day; well maintained with lots of shade trees. After dark however, that is not the case. It is said that Smiley is still mean and still angry; so angry at what he did to his family and to himself, that his ghost roams this restless cemetery each night looking for someone to take out his anger on, another person to take down with him. There are sounds in the cemetery at night if you listen for them - a barely perceptible moaning sound as of wind through the trees even when there is not a breath of air flowing; footsteps on dry leaves when nobody is moving; twigs snapping when you are sure nobody else is there. Some have seen strange lights bobbing around that cannot be explained. And it is said, if you stand on Smiley’s grave in the dark, a sense of sadness will overcome you; you will have trouble keeping your balance and you may feel a cold puff of wind around your ankles. For those brave enough, or perhaps foolish enough, on Halloween at midnight, if you lay on Smiley’s grave, you will begin to feel pressure on your chest, a pair of cold arms encircling you, and it will be hard to rise up – you will begin to struggle and scream in terror as Smiley tries to pull you down into the very depths of hell with him.

The mass grave of the unfortunate 
Smiley Family

Nobody alive today knows the facts for sure. Some claim the whole family was killed in a tornado that ripped through Garland on May 9, 1927. Research reveals that indeed, a tornado tore through Garland, killing at least 9 people, including Garland’s ex-mayor. However, the Smiley family is not listed among those killed. Another story is that a developer in the area wanted to build a road through Smiley’s property, but Smiley would not sell to him. Trying to force his hand, the man intended to burn down the Smiley residence one night when the family was away visiting relatives. However, their plans changed at the last minute and they all perished in the house fire he set. It seems nobody knows for sure so perhaps the murder/suicide story is true after all. And perhaps, just perhaps, angry, tortured Smiley really does wander the cemetery all night, every night; looking to add another innocent victim to his family’s mass grave.

Elvis Slept Here - Part Deaux

(continued from previous post.)

We expected to see a guard shack or at least an "Entering Ft. Chaffee" sign to indicate we had found our destination, but from the way we came in, the only indication was a large commercial sign touting a haunted house up ahead. To our left we saw a couple of old barracks buildings in an advanced state of decay with peeling paint and broken windows. They were surrounded by a weed-infested fence with rolls of barbed wire topping it. To a couple of military vets like Chip and myself, we knew right away it must be some kind of old military prison complex. Spying more old buildings on down the road, we took a left turn and straight away found what we were looking for, the Barber Shop Museum in Building 803, the place where Elvis had his locks shorn. I'm not sure if my old Elvis-fanatic female friends would have broken down weeping at the thought of a peeled-onion-headed Elvis or if they would have just been beyond themselves to be in the same place he had walked.

Entrance to the Barber Shop Museum
 - building 803

The building was well maintained and a sign was out front, but I noticed there were no cars in the parking lot. It was 3:55pm on a Saturday so we figured it was either closed on weekends or we had missed the hours it was open. Deciding we would get out, look in the windows and walk around taking a few pictures, we walked up to the entrance and saw a small sign saying it was open until 4:00. Without much hope, I turned the knob and was surprised to find it still open.

The barber chair Elvis sat in.

We were greeted by Gina and William, volunteer docents. I asked if I could just take a picture of where Elvis got his haircut before they closed and was told, "Sure, no problem. Take your time and look around. We'll keep it open for you." Very nice folks and very knowledgeable as well. The museum was a bit on the small side, but in addition to the chair where Elvis sat, there were a number of memorabilia and historical pictures of the base. While walking around looking at all of the items and reading the informational plaques that went along with them, our two wonderful hosts told us about some of the interesting history of Ft. Chaffee, a history we were totally unaware of. We came simply to see where Elvis got his haircut and, like most good road trips if you let them, we ended up in a more interesting place than we had set out for.

One of the interesting stories Gina and William told us was about the time back in 2010 when they accompanied the TV show Ghost Adventures' crew one night trying to find ghosts at the old hospital. According to Gina, it was dark, it was eerie, it was a little bit scary, but as the night wore on, it was boring. When the show aired, they played up a couple of "unexplained" sounds and something banged on a wall. Gina didn't say the sounds were faked, but did say the building had been abandoned for a number of years and had many broken windows. Rats or other animals? The wind? Before it was over, they were just ready to get back to their room and get some sleep. Pretty cool to be able to say you've done that though!

The building where Elvis lived for a time.

We could have stayed and listened to Gina and William stories on into the evening, but it was way past closing time so we made our goodbyes and headed out to take some pictures of the old barracks. As I was getting a different camera from the truck, Gina and William walked out, stopped and said, "There was a bowling alley over there" and then pointed over to barracks number 823, just a few feet from where we stood and casually said, "That's where Elvis bunked while he was here." Say what? Elvis slept there? There was no sign proclaiming so, but Gina and William said so and they seemed to have a storehouse of factual information so I had no reason to doubt them. I gave Gina a business card and told them I would write about this. So if you guys are reading this, thanks for a wonderful time, thanks for sharing your stories, and thanks for being so nice. And by the way, I researched it later and you were absolutely correct, Elvis slept there.

Row of barracks - Elvis lived in the 1st on the left.

After walking around the locked barracks and looking in a few windows we headed back to the what we now knew, thanks to Gina & William, were the POW barracks which housed German POWs in WWII. We didn't go in to the buildings as they were surrounded by that barbed-wire-topped fence, but mostly because we would have had to tramp through a good distance of chigger infested weeds. Everyone in the southern United States knows about chiggers, but for other folks who might not, trust me, chiggers are little bitty mean, nasty buggers that you can't see, but will make your life miserable for a few days. They live in grass and especially weeds and wait until you walk along and brush up against them whereupon they get on your clothes, make their way onto your skin and bite you and make you itch until you are ready to scream. And they are not easy to kill. You usually just have to endure for a few days until daily bathing finally washes them off. Us southerners are very familiar with the little beasts, but that doesn't mean any of us want to have an encounter with them. I put on my long camera lens and took pictures from afar.

One of the POW barracks which held
Germans in WWII.

We tried to find the remains of the hospital which had burned just 2 months before, but it's a big base with lots of roads and we never were able to find it. We did find another old, abandoned building, but were unable to determine what it was in the past. Apparently, at one point, it had been used as a nursery as there were a number of planting pots, dead plants, and wooden pallets strewn around, but it appeared to be completely abandoned now.

Except for 3 or 4 guys we saw working next to one of the old barracks, we had the base to ourselves. We didn't see anyone else except a couple at the still open golf course and the Janet Huckabee Nature Center. We were free to roam around, take our time and see what we wanted to see. As the sun was sinking, we headed back on Hwy 22 to Ft. Smith for the steak dinner I had to buy Chip because my beloved Longhorns had lost to those dang Sooners.

Fence & barbed wire around the POW 
barracks - & chiggers in the weeds!

If you happen to visit Ft. Chaffee, as always, bring your curiosity, take time to enjoy; bring your camera and take nothing away but pictures. Do no damage and leave things as they are so the next person can enjoy. And if you are fortunate enough to meet Gina & William, tell them I said hi and have them show you where Elvis slept.

One of the old, abandoned barracks building.