(Discussion Board Files courtesy of Matt Muller)
Subject: Re: Haunted USA
From: Gabriel V Hoyos <email@example.com>
Here's a couple from my neck of the woods that I can remember off hand:
that you will encounter her. I'll post more info later. There was a short item on the AP wire just a few months ago. I'll hunt it down.
Subj: The Hotel Vendome in
From: gvh@GAS.UUG.Arizona.EDU (Gabe)
CC: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com
GHOSTLY PAIR IN PRESCOTT HOTEL MAY STAY AS LONG AS THEY LIKE PRESCOTT (AP) -
The stately and historic Hotel Vendome has lots of guests, but the two said to frequently occupy Room 16 are different. They've been dead more than 70 years. Rama Patel, who recently bought the hotel with her husband, Amrish, refers to No. 16 as "Abby's Room." Patel said Abby, who is accompanied by her cat, Noble, once owned the hotel but lost it for unpaid taxes. The new owners allowed her to live there until she died, Patel said.
One story has it that Abby's husband went to get her some medicine when she became ill and never came back. She supposedly never left her bed again, dying of starvation.
One of the room's living occupants said she was watching a ghost story on television in the room when the set inexplicably went black, then came back when the show finished.
Four women took a Ouija board to the room once and tried to contact Abby. They said they learned she was 33 1/2 when she died in 1921, that her husband had betrayed her in some way and that she had no children. They also said they learned that Noble apparently died tragically and that the room's closet was involved in some way.
Mary Woodhouse, a reporter with the Daily Courier here,
said she recently
rented the room for a night to check on Abby. "I believe she paid me a
visit," Woodhouse said. She said Courier photographer Marcy Rogers was
with her when she entered the room.
Noticing the room was cold, they turned on a radiator. When they
returned after dinner, the room was still cold and the radiator was off, she
said. Woodhouse said she turned the radiator on again. After
said she sat in the room thinking about the stories Patel told her about Abby and the room's previous living occupants, one of whom said the heat kept going off. "I checked the radiator. It was off again," Woodhouse said. Later, she said that she repeatedly was awakened by a cat's meowing but that each time she tried to approach the apparent source of the sound, "It seemed to move." The heat never did stay on, she added. And when the roll of film in the camera was developed the next day, "there was a faint picture at the end of the roll that neither of us had taken," Woodhouse said.
As far as Patel is concerned, Abby isn't unwelcome. "Abby is a part of the Hotel Vendome," she said. "We don't want her to leave."
Drafty, noisy, and very creepy place. Big front page story in the Az Daily Star a couple of years ago. I'll find it as well.
"Dodge & River
cemetery" (unofficial name),
This, unfortunately, has not been written about to my knowledge. I work in the university library so it easy to get you this information, say, by the beginning of next week? I'll get you other stuff as well if you'd like.
Casa Grande Nat'l Monument,
That's all I can think of right now. More later!
Subject: Convenience Store Ghost
From: Gabriel V Hoyos <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Hiya -- it's been a while since I posted but here's true ghostly tale
from the convenience store checkered streets of
The Circle K Phantom -- as told to gvh by Wendee
My friend Wendee used to do the clerk thing at various convenience stores in town to get herself through college. This time period of jumping around from 7-11 to Quick Mart to Circle K's lasted roughly from 1990 to 1992. Wendee's first gig was at a little Circle K (a highly visible
convenience store chain, especially here in the southwest) in a somewhat quiet neighborhood on the southside of town. Her shift lasted from to - yup, you guessed it - the graveyard shift.
At first things were somewhat busy. A road construction crew was building an off ramp to one of the main freeways in town at night and so Wendee experienced brisk business from the husky and burly folk. The work was done about a month later and business during that time reduced
significantly. In order to pass the time, Wendee brought in a small clock radio to listen to late night talk shows. Occasionally during mopping detail, Wendee would tune the radio to top 40 radio. She noticed over time that the radio's volume would go down slowly until it was inaudible. Wendee would then simply walk over to the radio and turn it up again. Again, over a period of about an hour, the volume would go down. As the days went by, Wendee began to notice that the radio would completely shut off when she tuned to the Top 40 station. Despite the fact that the radio was brand new, she took it back home where it operated perfectly. So then she took in a boom box and the very same phenomena occurred. However, Wendee would hear signals and "noise" coming from the stereo even though it was shut off and sometimes even
when it was unplugged. She eventually took the stereo home where it worked fine. Spooked but far from calling in parapsychologists, Wendee decided not to listen to top 40 or any radio at all and the occurrences stopped.
A few months into her employment at Circle K #168, Wendee began to get the feeling that she was being watched. She had just stopped dating a very possessive man at the time and she confided in me that she felt that he might be stalking her. There were times she felt that she was being watched from across the street. One night, she looked out the window and saw a small man who appeared to be hunched over sitting at a bus stop bench across the street. The man appeared to be looking into right into her direction. Later, she figured that the man had been sitting there for about three hours. A few hours before dawn, a police officer came in for
his nightly dose of coffee and snacks. Wendee asked him if he could go speak to the man who was sitting across the street because she felt uncomfortable with his peculiar behavior. The cop looked at her oddly and asked "What man?" Wendee, the image of the man staring her right in
the face, pointed and said "THAT man". The cop insisted that he could not see anyone although it was plain as day for Wendee. The cop promised he'd be on the lookout for anyone suspicious and left. Wendee swears that the man disappeared moments after the cop left.
The man would re-appear from time to time and Wendee would attempt to take a picture of him or go outside to try to confront him. By this time, she was convinced that something ghostly was going on. After a time, the man wasn't seen by Wendee ever again. Yet strange occurrences
still went on. At first it was a few strange noises - some bumps and clicks - then it was things falling off shelves and the video game getting unplugged. Pretty soon Wendee felt like a baby sitter for a bored ghost. She eventually got used to it and called the ghost "George", her dead brother whom she believed the ghost was. One night, the milk guy came in with a shipment. Wendee went back to the rear of the store to open up the refrigeration storage area. Wendee was bored so she decided to chat with the guy and help him unload. Expecting him to come through
the rear, Wendee was startled when he come through the front. He looked at her a little curiously and asked her "What's the deal with your boss?" Not having the foggiest idea what he was talking about, Wendee responded "What boss?" The milk guy explained that there was a strange looking man in a Circle K shirt with a sour look on his face. The guy then went on to describe the man as having a hunchback and glasses (the man across the street). Wendee just about peed in her pants upon hearing this and went out to look at the counter only to find no one there.
After that night, Wendee decided that her days were numbered at Circle K #168 and she gave her two weeks notice -- partly because of the ghostly stuff but mostly because she got a job at a 7-11 during regular day hours. The day before she left, she found herself very tuckered out and tired
around 4 am. She did not look forward to the fact that she would start her new job that very day at 8. Around , a group of young ruffians came into the store and bought a variety of cokes, candies, and nachos. The stood around the magazine section and chomped away at their
goodies. Wendee watched them carefully but soon found herself falling asleep. A few moments passed and she fell asleep. Maybe five minutes pass and she is awakened by the noise of a paper boat of nachos hitting the floor. The boys are nowhere in sight and there's a big cheesey mess
on the floor. Wendee looks up at one of those circular mirrors to see if the boys are up to some kind of scheme and she notices a dark figure for an instant. Wendee goes out to the aisles to investigate but finds no one and nothing.
About a year after her stint with Circle K, Wendee ran into her old boss at a bus stop. They chatted for a bit and the boss mentioned that the store was shut down about three months after a big AM/PM (another southwest convenience chain) opened up and pushed it out of business. He
also mentioned that they could never keep anyone to do the graveyard shift and that he thinks Wendee worked it the longest - four months. He also mentioned that she broke the record set by the guy who worked it before her - a small nearsighted hunchbacked man named Jerry who had been shot and killed in an attempted robbery a month before Wendee started work there.
More stories to come.....
Subject: Re: College hauntings
Never heard of any hauntings at the University of Arizona, but the Matthews Center at Arizona State University is reputed to be haunted. Noises, the elevator going up and down with no one aboard, that sort of thing. Usually noticed only by the janitors.