Postcard from East Texas Backroads

Continued from (roadtrip post 4).    Go to the beginning (roadtrip post 1).

After leaving the Prison Museum, we grabbed a bite to eat and then spent an unremarkable night in another unremarkable Best Western hotel. Neither of us were all that sleepy, but there wasn't anything interesting on TV so at 10:30, we turned off the lights, climbed into our respective beds and lay in the dark trying to go to sleep. We finally gave up and so we lay there talking lies and telling sad truths we hoped the other would think were lies. The talking finally wore us out and we drifted off to sleep.

After partaking of the hotel's "free" breakfast, we headed out in the cold and very overcast day to the charming town of Columbus, Texas and the famous Columbus Court Oak Tree. Columbus is the oldest plated town in Texas. It was plated in 1823, but in 1836 during the fight for Texas independence, both Columbus and the nearby town of San Felipe were burned to the ground rather than have them fall into the hands of the approaching Mexican soldiers. After the Texans won, the town's settlers returned to rebuild. Logs were ordered to be floated down the nearby river which were to be used for the building of a courthouse, but a heavy rain flooded the river just before the logs reached Columbus and they floated right on by in the swift current.

Until a courthouse could be built, trials were held under a large Oak tree in the middle of town. The judge was Robert McAlpin Williamson, a.k.a. "Three-legged Willie" who received his nickname due to having a good leg, a crippled leg which was permanently bent at the knee, and a wooden leg which extended from his crippled knee to the ground. 

The earliest recorded case held under the Court Oak Tree was in May, 1837, when William Babbs was charged with Grand Larceny. He pled guilty and threw himself on the mercy of the court. Unfortunately for him, Three-legged Willie wasn't feeling particularly merciful that day and sentenced him to receive 39 lashes and his right hand was branded with a "T" so everyone would know he was a thief.

Of course, a proper courthouse was eventually built, but the massive oak tree continues to give shade. At 70 feet tall, a trunk circumference of 329 inches and a crown spread of 111 feet, it is estimated to be over 500 years old and is the second largest Live Oak in the state.

We left Columbus headed to the little unincorporated town of Kenney. With an estimated 200 residents living in the extended area, the community of Kenney is one of those little towns that's nothing but a wide place in the road between "Litter Barrel" and "Resume Speed." However, it is the location of The Kenney Store, a bar/saloon/cafe/dance hall establishment famous for live music, its ancient dance floor and great downhome cooking. With a motto like "It is what it is," we just had to check it out.

Built in the late 1800's, the building has previously been a general store, post office and a beer joint. Now you can enjoy the delicious made-from-scratch burgers, meatloaf, roast beef, pork chops, and mouth-watering pies while listening to talented local bands in jam sessions and popular well-known bands performing every Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights.

It sure didn't look like much from the outside, but we walked in to an iconic Texas saloon, dance hall, restaurant kind of place. Friendly staff greeted us as we walked across the well-worn wooden dance floor to a table and our waitress arrived about 10 seconds later. The food is made to order so it took a little while, but that gave us time to enjoy the atmosphere over a glass of sweet tea. Soon enough, I had a huge, perfectly cooked jalapeno pepper jack burger and a whole lot of hand-cut fries sitting in front of me. I have to say, that was one of the best burgers I've ever had! I managed to devour most of the burger and a lot of the fries, but I had to give up and push the plate back, unable to finish it all. I had my mouth all set for a slice of pie, but that was before the burger and fries. Pie will have to wait for next time.

Independence, Texas was our next stop. The Independence Baptist Church organized on August 31, 1839, is the longest continuously active Baptist church in Texas. However, that was just one of the reasons for our visit. Sam Houston, often called the father of Texas, the man who served as the first and third president of Texas, and was the leader of the Texan forces who defeated Santa Anna's Mexican troops to secure independence for Texas, joined this church in 1854 and often attended services here.

In 1840, Sam married his 3rd wife, Margaret Lea. Margaret and her mother, Nancy Moffette Lea were both deeply religious and they worked hard to restrain Sam's carousing, drinking and cigar smoking. He is known to have complained about their constant harping at him. However, their unceasing efforts to lead him to a more settled and devout life proved to be at least partially successful as he would be in attendance for church services most of the time when he was in town. He had a favorite pew where he always sat and after he died of pneumonia on July 26, 1863, it was preserved and marked. The pew is still marked for people to see and is still used today during services.

Sam and Margaret had a home in Huntsville and when he died, he was buried there in Oakwood Cemetery. Margaret moved back to Independence where she died of Yellow Fever in 1867. Due to the danger of contagion, her body could not be transported to Huntsville to be buried next to her husband so she was buried next to her mother in the family cemetery on church grounds. With 60 miles between Sam, his wife and her mother, perhaps he is finally resting in peace.

On to Schulenburg for the night in another Best Western Hotel. Tomorrow is slated for us to tour four of the famous "painted churches." 

The Lea-Houston family cemetery on the
church grounds

Postcard From Huntsville, Texas

Continued from (roadtrip post 3)

In case you are entertaining a trip to Huntsville, Texas and wondering about where to stay, be aware that the Best Western my road trip buddy and I stayed at is pretty much a hit-or-miss. The location is good, the price was less than $90 and the room was clean and decent sized, but the wifi was slow when it worked and would periodically drop. The "free" breakfast was just ok, the ice machine was broken and the pool was full of green water. I doubt we would stay there again as there are a number of other like-priced chains that might be a better option. Just my opinion from this one stay.

We were headed to the Texas Prison Museum, but first we stopped at an interesting home - the famous "Boot House."  There’s probably no other house quite like this one. Only in Texas does a boot-shaped home seem fitting.

Boot House on the right

The "Boot House" is a design of the world-famous artist Dan Phillips who works with The Phoenix Commotion, a group that builds with recycled materials. This 700-square-foot home stands at an impressive 35 feet tall and while it seems more like a huge work of art than an actual house, the interior is very cozy and livable. Inside, there's a working kitchen, a loft for the bedroom, a full bath, and an extension which adds plenty of room to the boot house. Even more impressive is the attention to detail inside the boot: granite floors, a fireplace, and a bright red spiral staircase. There’s even a roof deck located at the very top of the boot, offering an impressive view of the town. If you are interested, the boot house can be rented for $1,200 a month.

Disappointed that we couldn't tour the Boot House or even walk around it (private property and heavy rush-hour auto traffic on the road in front of it), we drove to the Texas Prison Museum. Huntsville is home to five state prisons and is the headquarters for the Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ). Located just off Interstate-45, the red-brick museum is where most of the existing memorabilia for the whole Texas Corrections System is housed. The five prisons along with two county jails make incarceration Huntsville's largest industry.

Upon entering the museum, after paying the $7 per person entrance fee ($5 for seniors), you watch a short video about the Texas prison system and improvements — like offering education and job training — it has made over the years. Then you are free to wonder around and see the many interesting artifacts on display, all of them the real, actual items. There's a gun that belonged to Bonnie & Clyde which was retrieved from their death car. There are many contraband items, like a knife which had been hidden in a flip-flop sandal, a coke can with a false bottom and dozens of "shanks." When a person is desperate, has limited resources and unlimited drive and time, they can do some pretty innovative things. The museum shows how anything can be turned into a shank if you have enough time. They have shanks made from toothbrushes, plates, trays, paper, glass, almost anything you can think of. There is also an art display which shows what else inmates create with time and limited materials: a jewelry box and cross made from matches, a rosary made from pencils, a hand-drawn game of “Prisonopoly,” patterned after a Monopoly board with real estate named for Texas prison units.

One of the most moving item is a wall of pictures of inmates and members of their victim's families along with quotes from the condemned just before they are put to death and from the victim's family members who watched them die. A few of the condemned are just plain mean, bad individuals to the very end who made the world a better place with their demise, but most seem genuinely  sorry for their bad deeds, don't make excuses and accept their punishment as deserved. Of course, when you are facing imminent death, I guess it's natural to get religion, tell your loved ones how sorry you are to cause them such pain, and want forgiveness from those you've wronged.

Probably the most interesting item on display is Old Sparky, the actual electric chair which was used to kill 361 people. It sits in a replica of the red-brick death chamber at the Huntsville Unit prison less than 3 miles away. The inmate-built oak chair glems beneath a spotlight with its leather straps curled around the chair's arms and footrests. Metal housings for the electrical works wrap around the side of the chair. It's pretty darn sobering to stand just a few feet from that chair and think about all the people that died in it.

There is also an exact replica of a jail cell you can enter and shut the cell door behind you. I did that and almost immediately opened that door and came back out. It only took a few seconds to confirm what I was always sure of - jail is not for me!

On the way out, there is a small gift shop mostly filled with products the inmates themselves have made. The $25 nickel key chains reading "Death Row" are very popular. Also for sale are t-shirts, some with the image of Old Sparky and reading "Home of Old Sparky." For $4 you can buy an Old Sparky shot glass or for $2 you can get a box of "Solitary ConfineMints." A portion of the money made from the sale of an inmate-made item is credited to their commissary account. A visit to this museum seems to be a bit dark, but it is interesting, for sure.

After leaving the museum, we naturally had to visit the inmate cemetery nearby. The official name is the Captain Joe Bird Cemetery, but most people know it as "Peckerwood Hill." Peckerwood is derived from an old African-American insult for poor white trash people. Since most of the graves hold poor people, the nickname stuck. This is the place where the bodies of prisoners who were not claimed by family are buried. Within its 22 acres are about 3,000 graves of convicts who were buried by other prisoners who serve as pallbearers, chisel names in headstones and dig the graves using shovels. A lot of the graves are only marked by concrete crosses with prison ID numbers and date of death. Some have names and birthdates inscribed. Headstones of executed prisoners have ID numbers that start with "999," the state designation for a death row prisoner, or a simple "EX" or just an "X." 

There is an empty grave located here that stands out. It is the grave of a Native American, Santanta (White Bear), the famous Kiowa war chief. He was born around 1820 during the height of the Plains tribes power and was one of the best and last Kiowa chiefs. He established an enduring alliance with the Comanche and fought with them at the First Battle of Adobe Walls and in many engagements and raids against the encroaching white men. Finally realizing it was futile to continue fighting, he negotiated a treaty and promised his people would move onto a reservation. Unfortunately, his people had to hunt for food and prepare for the move first, so when they didn't move to the reservation fast enough, General George Custer arrested him and held him hostage until the move was accomplished. 

In early 1871, with white men hunting on their reservation lands, Santanta led a raid on a wagon train and killed several men. When he returned to the reservation, General William Sherman assembled a large force of soldiers and arrested him along with two sub-chiefs. Santanta was taken to Jacksboro, Texas to stand trial for murder, the first Indian to be taken to trial. He was found guilty and the judge ordered the sheriff to "hang him by the neck until he is dead, dead, dead." Before that could happen though, Edmund Davis, the governor of Texas, commuted his sentence to life in prison. He was a model prisoner and was paroled in September, 1873. 

A few months after his release, members of his tribe attacked and killed several buffalo hunters who were hunting on their reservation. Santanta was blamed and even though all the members of the tribe said he was innocent and not even at the fight, he was found guilty of violating his parole and once again sentenced to life in prison. He was taken to the state penitentiary in Huntsville to live out the rest of his life. Forced to work on roads and building railroad tracks as a member of a chain gang, he gave up hope of ever being free. His spirit was broken and he spent hours looking through the bars of his cell's window back toward the north, the hunting grounds of his people. 

On October 11, 1878, he was taken to the prison hospital which was the top floor of a 3-story building. Deciding not to spend the rest of his life in a white man's prison, he commited suicide by throwing himself out of a window head-first. He was buried in the prison cemetery, but in 1963, his grandson, an artist named James Auchiah, received permission to move his remains to Fort Sill, Oklahoma. Out of respect, his former grave has been marked and maintained. 

An interesting side note of Santanta, the character of Blue Duck in Larry McMurtry's book "Lonesome Dove" was partially based on his life and death.

Youree Chapel & The Oldest General Store in Texas

Continued from (roadtrip post 2)

Highway 2198 through the Caddo Lake National Wildlife Refuge is a pretty road, lots of Pine trees and it took us just long enough for my road trip buddy and I to get into a lively discussion about why there is no underbrush among all the trees we passed by. One of the reasons I love having Chip accompany me on these road trips is because, every now and then, with a totally straight face and full of absoluteness, he makes some "statement of fact" that I find outlandish BS. We can "discuss" these statements for hours, coming to no resolution before dropping the subject and then we'll pick it back up where we left off 6 months later during the next road trip. I have yet to positively determine if he is convinced of the truthfulness of his statements or if he is just having fun at my exasperation. It's one of the benefits of being best friends for going on 50 years!

Youree Memorial Chapel

Connecting onto Highway 43 toward Marshal and then taking several little backroads, we came to our next destination, the Youree Memorial Chapel. Built in 1904 and fashioned after a chapel in England, it has a hand-carved interior with windows by Tiffany. The chapel was built by the parents of Will Youree after he died at age 31 of yellow fever. It is still used today for funerals and the occasional wedding. The historical Scottsville Cemetery joins the chapel property.

The beautiful grounds of the cemetery contain some of the largest and most elaborate, and no doubt, most expensive, gravestones to be found anywhere. One of the first things you'll see is a 25-foot statue of a Confederate soldier, commemorating those who died in the Civil War. Just beyond the statue is a pond a number of ducks call home and a really nice gazebo. The graves are shaded by many pines and shady elm trees giving the whole cemetery an aura of quiet and peacefulness.

Scottsville Cemetery

Unfortunately, the chapel is not open for public viewing. When we arrived, there was still snow on the ground, the temperature was in the 20's and that oh-so-cold wind was still blowing. After just a few minutes outside the warmth of my truck, we decided to forego our usual routine of respectively walking around the grounds and viewing the headstones. Just too darn cold.

Next stop - the tiny crossroads community of Jonesville. Located at the confluence of Hwy 134, County Road 2729 and County Road 2727, it's called a community because calling it a town would be ridiculous. It's one of those communities so small that the "Entering" and "Leaving" signs are on the same post. So why was this little hamlet on my "must stop" list? Because that's where the oldest general store in Texas can be found. The TC Lindsey store first opened in 1847 and it hasn't really changed since. Part store, part museum, the moment you walk in you are transported back in time. Only open Tuesday thru Thursday 10:00 - 2:00, Friday and Saturday 10:00 - 4:00, we had to beat feet to get there before closing time.

The ceilings are tall and the old time-worn wooden floors creak as you walk. The shelves are stocked with lots of old cans, bottles, and boxes, some just old empty relics, some you can buy and actually use. Many items used by the homemaker of years past are still in stock. It's amazing how much "stuff" there is - from clothing to history books to iron skillets. There is also a large selection of locally hand-made jams, jellies, salsas, and honey. In the middle of the store, just past the books and knick-knack shelves is a seating area with a couple of tables. At the counter is a cheese cutting block, the type you see only in museums or movies. Ask for a chunk of cheddar cheese and some crackers, get a soda and have a snack while you have some interesting conversations with the very friendly folks who work there and any other customers. 

On the left side of the store is the hardware section filled to the brim with farm implements, hand tools, empty old soda bottles, oil cans, and leather goods of all ages. There is even the last bale of cotton that was baled at the gin many years ago. In the back corner is the old Jonesville post office (now closed). Look close and you will also find some amusing, odd items for sale - like cans of dehydrated water - something in all my travels I haven't found anywhere else.

There have been 10 movies which made this store a part of their movie productions and you can find a list of them on a wall. The store has also been featured on several TV shows like 60 Minutes and CBS Morning News.

I bought a few items I just couldn't turn down, including a can of dehydrated water, along with some road food - a couple of peanut patties, several other candy bars, a bag of chips and a book. Chip bought a few items himself and it felt good to support a small business like this one even in a small way.

The TC Lindsey store is a throwback to how Texas used to be, a time many of us remember fondly. It was definitely a good, interesting stop on this road trip. If you are ever in the area, make a special effort to stop, browse and remember. 

After an interesting, if cold, day, we headed to Huntsville where a Best Western hotel was holding a room for us. Time to find a place for a bite to eat and rest up for the next day's adventure.

Postcard from Uncertain

Continued from (roadtrip post 1)

Leaving the town of Jefferson and the very cold, haunted Excelsior hotel in our rearview mirror (see that post here), we headed to nearby Caddo Lake. Unknown to my good friend and traveling companion Chip, I had made reservations for us to take a personal guided boat tour through the bayous, channels, waterways and sloughs of the beautiful, but mysterious lake. Home to a forest of cypress trees, waterfowl, over 240 species of birds plus an abundance of wildlife, it was sure to be an interesting excursion and a nice surprise for my buddy. It was not to be, however. The day had dawned with a cloudless sky and a bright sun, but the temperature had only risen to 30 degrees and there was a consistent cold wind blowing. Spending the morning on a lake in an open boat in weather like that was not my idea of a good time. While Chip was on a potty break, I took the opportunity to call our boat guy to cancel the tour. He said he was just about to call me and ask if we could cancel. Seems he didn't want to be out on the lake in that cold either. Nice guy, he waved the late cancellation fee. I'll surprise Chip with it later on one of our road trips in warmer months!

Taking Texas Highway 134 east about 18 miles brought us to the little town of Uncertain, Texas. Being the inquisitive kind, I wondered how in the world a town came by the name "Uncertain." Seems back in the early days when Texas was a country, the town existed right on the boundary line between America and Texas and everyone was uncertain whether it was in America or Texas. Many of the 250 or so citizens of the town were owners of fishing, hunting, and boating businesses. Like most people, they were not excited about paying taxes so when the tax collector from Texas showed up, they claimed to be on the American side and when the American tax collector showed up, they claimed they were on the Texas side. Since the boundary wasn't formally set yet, the tax collectors had to walk away empty-handed.

In the 1940s, the boundary had been set with the town being declared in Texas. Trying to promote tourism, city officials decided to incorporate in order to provide places of legal alcohol consumption. The vote to incorporate was a close one, city officials were uncertain whether the measure would pass or not. When the vote to incorporate was won, the town's history of uncertainty was used for the town name.

At one time, there were almost 250 residents of Uncertain, but that number has dropped since the 1980s. The population from the last census shows only 97 now call Uncertain home. The day we slowly drove through, you couldn't prove anybody lived there. We drove around for almost an hour, finding several Uncertain places of business, the Uncertain storage, the Uncertain antique store, and even the Uncertain church. None of them appeared to be open. It wasn't really a surprise when we found the Church of Uncertain to be non-denominational. And we never saw a single person out and about. Maybe they were all being smart and staying inside out of the cold.

We left the quiet little town behind us to its uncertain future, drove through the Caddo Lake National Wildlife Refuge and the town of Karnack and jumped on Hwy 43 headed to the historic and beautiful Scott Plantation Cemetery in Scottsville. Stay tuned.

Postcard from the Haunted Excelsior House Hotel

I woke up this morning and it was 14 degrees outside. The weather lady said the wind chill was 8 degrees. It reminded me of a road trip my good buddy, Chip, and I took one winter. For a number of years now, about 3 times each year, we pack a few things, leave the women and children behind and head out on a road trip, a "Mancation" if you will. We used to feel guilty going off on a grand adventure to who knows where and not bringing the wives, but now that we're both retired and our main occupation is hanging around the house, it seems the women-folk are more encouraging we do this than they were before.

 Chip and I have been best friends for going on 50 years now, ever since we met in Pensacola, Florida while in the Navy. Somehow we kept getting assigned together and for almost 4 years we saw some "interesting" times together sailing the world's oceans and sleeping about 2 feet from each other, me in the top berthing rack and him in the middle one. It cemented our brotherhood. And now, even though we live in different states, we usually don't go more than a couple of days without touching base with each other just in case we need to argue about something.

I have always enjoyed reading and every time I read about someplace or something interesting, I put it in my "Places To See" spreadsheet and spend many hours researching to find the history and back story of those places and things. I also like to eat so every time I see something like "Top Ten BBQ Places" or "Top Ten Hamburgers," I add those to my spreadsheet too. Over the years, I've noted almost 500 of these places and it's my intention to visit them all and write about the more interesting ones. Call it my retirement job.

In order to check out some of these places, Chip and I had made plans to go on a Texpedition; driving around Texas to see some of those sites and eat at places recommended. We made reservations for our first night at a hotel that is reputed to be one of the most haunted in the whole state, the Excelsior House Hotel in Jefferson, Texas.

The day before our scheduled departure, Chip drove the 325 or so miles to my house and spent the night. We planned to get an early start the next morning but became a bit concerned when the weather forecast called for severe cold down Texas-way over the next few days. No problem we figured, as I have a good truck with new tires and we'll just take our big coats and bundle up.

A little after night changed to day, we headed out in clear, balmy 39-degree weather. After stopping for breakfast at a nearby IHOP, we turned the truck southeast and hit the road. Riding along we had much great fun in the typical fashion of two male friends on a road trip - crude humor, tasteless jokes, and numerous castings of dispersion on each other's mental capacity, driving ability, looks, and tastes in women, movies, books, and cars. During these times, we often solve all the world's problems - if people would just listen to us!

Interesting ice formed on the hub of my truck

About a hundred miles into the trip, we noticed clouds rolling in and the outside temperature gauge showed a steady decrease. It began to rain which rather quickly turned to sleet. Being the manly men we think we are, a quick conference decided since we were halfway there already, to just keep going. Soon though, we went down some backroads, roads that the locals evidently knew to stay off of when ice falls from the sky. The sleet got heavier and the roads became icy. Our talk turned to quiet as the tick, tick, tick of the sleet on the truck became heavier and our anxiety grew. I slowed down to about 20 miles per hour as the truck kept sliding from one side of the road to the other. Driving a pick-up in conditions like this with nothing but a couple of suitcases in the covered back is not fun. Thinking more weight might help, we stopped in a town and filled up with gas. The truck was covered with ice which fell off in sheets as we opened the doors.

Somehow, a few miles later, we arrived at our destination without getting stuck on the side of the road or rolling over in a ditch. The drive had taken a lot longer than expected, but we were still a little early for check-in at the Excelsior House. We went inside to let them know we were there so don't give our room to someone else. The front desk lady was extremely nice and told us we could go on to our room since it was ready. She also told us the Garden Club was holding a chili supper in the dining room that evening and we were welcome to have some really good homemade Chile if we wanted. She didn't have to ask us twice!  

Located in the heart of Jefferson's Riverfront district, the Excelsior House is the 2nd oldest continuously operating hotel in Texas (the Menger Hotel in San Antonio is slightly older). Around 1855, riverboat captain William Perry realized there was a need for a hotel in the rowdier part of Jefferson so he purchased land and built a hotel he named "Irving House." After Captain Perry died, the hotel was bought and operated by a succession of owners. In 1877, it was purchased by Kate Wood and renamed the Excelsior House. Over the years, additions were constructed and it underwent several restorations until it was sold to the Allen Wise Garden Club in 1961. Since then, many volunteers have spent thousands of hours updating and restoring the hotel. Each room has been furnished with period antiques harking back to its glory days.

Many famous historical figures have spent nights in these rooms. Presidents Grant, Hays, and LBJ have signed the guest register as well as folks like W.H. Vanderbilt, John Jacob Aster, Oscar Wilde, Steven Speilburg, and Jay Gould, who wanted to bring the railroad to Jefferson. When the city fathers turned him down, he put a curse on the town and left. He promised the end of Jefferson and said "grass will grow in the streets and bats will roost in the church belfries." Gould's curse almost came true when the town's steamboat port had to close and the population went from 35,000 to 1,000. To serve as a reminder of what might have been, the Garden Club purchased Goud's custom-built railroad car, placed it across the street from the hotel, and today offers guided tours through it.

Stories of the hauntings of the Excelsior House are numerous with many people who do not know each other and are unaware of the stories all telling of the same, strange and unexplainable happenings. Several of the rooms are named after the historical people who slept in them. While there are three rooms that seem to be the most haunted, the Gould Room is by far the most famous. There have been many reports of an ethereal headless man who has been seen walking the hallway outside the Gould Room. A number of guests have told of a woman in black sitting in a rocking chair rocking a baby in the Gould Room. It appears there is a least one ghost who likes to lightly touch people on their face or tickle their neck while they sleep. Sometimes it will yank the covers off in the middle of the night. Voices speaking in German have been heard coming from rooms where nobody was staying. Many reports have been of guests smelling a strong perfume in one room which quickly dissipates when the room is entered. A well-liked prostitute known as Diamond Bessie, tragically murdered in the nearby woods, used to stay in the room and was known to always wear a strong, sweet-smelling perfume. 

The famed movie director, Steven Spielberg, was booked to stay in the Excelsior House in the early 1970's while filming Sugarland Express. As it happened, he was given the Jay Gould Room. According to him, as soon as he walked into his room, he felt uneasy, as if someone was watching him. It had been a long, hard day and he wanted to lay down for a few minutes so, dismissing his unease, he walked on into the room and casually tossed his briefcase onto a rocking chair in the corner of the room. The briefcase immediately flew back into his face, as if it had been thrown back at him. He decided to go eat and get to bed early, but when he returned and lay down, he had trouble sleeping, again feeling as if someone was watching him. Finally drifting off, he was suddenly awakened by a little boy tugging on his nightshirt and asking if he was ready for breakfast. While staring wide-eyed at the little boy, the figure slowly vanished and through the apparition, Speilburg could see the rocking chair in the corner rocking back and forth. It was only 2:00AM, but he got up, packed his things, woke up his film crew, and made everyone drive 20 miles to the nearest Holiday Inn where they stayed for the rest of their time filming around Jefferson. After filming on "Sugarland Express" ended, Spielberg wrote the screenplay for his next movie, "Poltergeist."

Our Room

When Chip and I arrived, we found the lobby area to be filled with interesting old pictures and antiques. The lady who checked us in, gave us an old-fashioned room key and told us how to get to our room in "the original section of the hotel." She informed us they had turned on the wall furnace so the room should be warm, but if we needed, there were extra blankets and quilts in the wardrobe. Grabbing our bags from the truck, we passed through a door from the lobby, walked a short way down a hall and hauled our bags up a skinny flight of stairs which creaked and groaned with each step. On the 2nd floor, we turned left to the end of the hall to our room. While inserting the key into the lock, the door creaked open. It had not been locked. I guess the maid just forgot to lock up.

On entering and closing the door, we found the room to be clean and fully furnished with old antique furniture except for the flat-screen TV. The bathroom was antique as well with an old sink and claw-footed tub, but there was also a tiled shower stall and, of course, the toilet. It was only then I started remembering some of the stories I had read - a rocking chair in the corner of the room, two beds with carved, wooden head and footboards made of Circassian Walnut, a large wooden wardrobe, a club-footed tub - we were in the Jay Gould Room! In for a dime, in for a dollar, and besides, who really believes in ghosts? As we unpacked a few items, it seemed the room, even with the ancient wall furnace turned all the way on high, was not warming up. After such a tiring drive and it being several hours until the chili supper, we decided to take naps. The outside temperature was in the upper 20's and it didn't seem to be much warmer in our room. Covering up with the covers on our respective beds, we both crashed.

Waking up a while later, we noticed the door was slightly ajar. I was sure I had locked it before my nap. Worried that maybe someone had come in and taken something, we took inventory of the things we had brought up with us. Everything was right where we had placed it except for one thing - Chip's iPad. We searched high and low, in his suitcase, everywhere. Nope, it was not there. Finally, I asked, "Are you sure you brought it in from the truck?" "I'm pretty sure," he replied. "Well, let's get bundled up again, go outside and look in the truck just to be sure." We searched the truck. Not there either. Well, crap. We locked the truck doors and started to head back inside to report the theft when Chip said, "Hey, here it is!" And there, wrapped in its black leather case sitting on top of my black pickup bed cover, now under a good 1/4" of sleet pellets, was his iPad, right where he had set it while getting his suitcase out of the truck. It had been sitting out in public in full view of anyone passing by for several hours in mid-20's temp and getting covered in sleet. We rushed back inside, back to our room and found the door once again partially open. Chip turned on his iPad and low and behold, the thing started right up!

Our bathroom - before the deep freeze

Before heading down to the "new" section of the hotel to the dining room, we turned our attention to the door that wouldn't stay closed. After several minutes, we figured out that if you lifted up on the door, the lock would fit into the cutout and be secure. Our haunted door was nothing more than a misaligned lock.

Getting back downstairs and milling around with some of the Garden Club members while waiting for the chili and fixings to be spread out on a table, we talked with the lady who had checked us in. She said it should be quiet for us tonight as we were the only ones in "the old section." I asked her, "Do you mean anything by saying it "should" be quiet for us tonight?" "I'm not sure I know what you mean," she replied. So I asked her, just to be sure, "Which room are we in?" "Oh, you guys are in the Jay Gould Room, one of our most comfortable. If you need anything, Phyllis will be the night manager on duty." Seeming to not want to answer any more questions, she excused herself and walked away.

The chili was great. There must have been ten different topping choices, free sweet tea, and cupcakes for dessert. Everyone was friendly and we had a number of good conversations. Several of the Garden Club members seemed to make funny, sideways glances before edging away from us when they found out we were staying in the Gould Room, but that was probably just my imagination. After eating our fill, we headed back to our room for a good night's sleep.

The door that refused to stay locked

It was quiet going back to our room and very obvious we were indeed the only guests in the whole section. Arriving at our door, once again, the damn thing was ajar. I was positive I had jimmied the door so it locked securely when we left earlier. Entering the room, it seemed even colder than before. Chip took a chair and jammed it up against the door to ensure it stayed closed and nobody could get in while we slept. We fired up our laptops to check email and the news. It had gotten colder outside with the temperature now down to 18F. I don't know how cold it was in our room, but it was cold, damn cold. We got ready for bed by pulling out and dividing up all the blankets and quilts in the wardrobe and piling them on those already on the beds. Keeping our clothes on, we crawled under about 25 pounds of covers on our respective beds. Quite often, we will stay up late talking lies and telling sad truths we hope the other will think are lies, but not this night, not when it's so cold you can actually see your words leaving your mouth. 

It was warm under all those covers and I slept pretty comfortably through the night. No weird sounds, no empty creaking rocking chairs, no covers pulled off and nothing touched my face or neck. Evidently, it was too cold even for restless spirits. What was really hard was crawling out of those covers into our very cold room. Eventually, my bladder told me cold or not, you better get out of bed and take care of business. In the bathroom, I held things up as looking down into the toilet, I found it was a solid hunk of ice. I turned to the sink and turned on the hot water - nothing. I tried the tub and the shower - not even a drop of water. The pipes were frozen. I turned on the TV as I told Chip he needed to get up since we had to go find a bathroom somewhere. The weather guy on the TV informed us the temp had dropped to 8 degrees - a record low for that day!

The hallway outside our room where

a headless man is said to walk

Grabbing our overnight kits, we headed over to the newer section hoping to find a suitable place to take care of our needs. The chair against the door was still in place so we moved it out of the way and quickly went down the stairs. In the lobby, it was, thankfully, much, much warmer. We met Phyllis and after telling her about our frozen pipes, she heartily apologized and showed us to a little bathroom. She explained they only serve breakfast on weekends (we were there on a weekday), but she had a fresh pot of coffee going and she broke out some breakfast muffins. 

After a couple of muffins each and starting on our 2nd cup of coffee, we got to talking with Phyllis about the hotel. She gave us a wonderful little tour and told us all kinds of interesting information about each of the many pictures on the walls and items in the display case. She showed us the famous signatures in the hotel's register. We got her to talk about the hauntings and she admitted sometimes late at night, she would hear things - footsteps, voices. But she claimed nothing bad had ever happened and she didn't get scared. She also told us about the old hotel across the street, The Jefferson. She informed us that the Excelsior is famously haunted, but in her opinion, the Jefferson has more ghosts and some of them are not nearly as innocuous as the Excelsior's. 

The courtyard from the balcony outside

our room. That's not snow, it's sleet

She told a wonderful story about a poor fella that accepted a job as night clerk at the Jefferson. Since the nights sometimes were long and dark when there were few or no guests in either hotel, they would cross the street and visit to pass the time. One dark night, she saw the gentleman run out of the front door, jump in his car, and drove away like a bat out of hell. That would be the last time she ever saw him. He called her the next day to say he couldn't take it anymore and he would never go back. He said he had heard footsteps on the 2nd floor and knowing there were no guests that night, he went upstairs to find out who had snuck in. He walked all the way down the hall, not seeing or hearing anything until he came to the end of the hall when all of a sudden the locked door to the room swung open and he saw a pair of red eyes staring at him. He turned and ran back down the hall, but the disembodied red eyes followed him and as it went by the individual rooms, each and every door slammed open! The eyes followed him all the way to the front door as he ran away screaming. The gentleman and his wife quickly sold their house, moved away, and have never been back.

The fountain in the courtyard in the morning

As we checked out, Phyllis talked about her husband and how he goes fishing nearly every day on nearby Caddo Lake. She said she doesn't mind because when he stays home, he gets bored and finds things to fix, but he's not very good at it and just generally gets in her way. She then jokingly said, "If you meet my husband, don't tell him what I said!" Before heading out the door, we asked for her recommendation of a place to get breakfast and she directed us to the Port Jefferson Outpost, "the place where the locals go."

The Outpost just before the local guys arrived

Following Phyllis's directions, we found the Outpost a few blocks away. The front 3/4 of the store is one of those little Mom-&-Pop places that sell all kinds of things like scented hand-made soap, knick-knacks, signs, sauces, and jams. Go all the way through though and in the back is an ordering counter, several picnic tables, and a sit-down counter. On a little table at the end were several urns of hot coffee where you can help yourself. The girl we gave our order to was very nice and a full breakfast was very reasonably priced. We wondered a little if this really is where the locals come since we were the only customers. However, just a few minutes after we sat down, a couple of older gentlemen came in, then a man and his wife, then a few more guys, all wearing gimme hats from Massey Ferguson, Farmall, John Deere, or Janes Farm and Feed. Everyone was friendly, smiled, and said hi. Finally, a bearded gentleman in another gimme hat strolled in and everybody called him by name. He was obviously a popular guy. Getting a cup of coffee and telling the counter girl he would have his usual, he came over and took the last open seat which just happened to be next to us. They all talked about fixing tractors, barn roofs, and boat motors, but mostly they discussed fishing - were the fish biting, where are they biting, what are they biting and who all is going fishing today. The conversation took a lag so Mr. Popular turned to us and stated with authority, "You guys aren't from around here." Every head in the room was focused on us, wanting to know our story. We told him no, we were just passing through and had spent last night at the Excelsior House. "Oh," he exclaimed, "then you must have met my wife, Phyllis!"

Small world! We talked about various things for a while and then the guys started drifting out one-by-one to go fix something or to go fish. Our breakfast was finished so with bellies full and cups of coffee for the road, we said our goodbye's to Phyliss' husband and headed out for our next destination, the town of Uncertain. Don't worry, Phyliss, we never said a word.