(Discussion Board Files courtesy of Matt Muller)


Subject: Haunted House in old SF

From: bigbird@netcom.com (Larry Burdick)

Date: Thu, 20 Apr 1995 04:45:45 GMT

Message-ID: <bigbirdD7BH89.KGt@netcom.com>


I found this while reading _This is San Francisco!_ by Robert O'Brien:


"On [Russian] Hill's western rampart in the early days of the city stood a  white and many-gabled Swiss chalet...the occupant of which was an expatriate Englishman named Colonel JP Manrow."


"One night...Manrow casually mentioned that strange things were happening at  his house. Tables, he said, were tipping. Invisible hands were rapping and  spooks were raising general hob with his household. When two friends ridiculed these reports Manrow invited an attorney who wrote Victorian science fiction on the side under the nom de plume Caxton, and Almarin Brooks Paul a mining  engineer to sit in on a little seance."


"On the night of September 19, 1856, Rhodes, Paul, and Manrow sat down in a  circle with Manrow's wife, her sister and her sister's daughter. They sat in a circle holding hands. Suddenly knocks were heard  in all parts of the room.   The table rose a foot from the floor and swung about in mid-air. Sofa cushions flew in all directions, books leaped from the shelves, the doorbell rang violently and all six present were struck on the head with invisible hands or  kicked by invisible feet...."


"Using the rapped alphabet they struck up a conversation with the sprit and at first it insisted it was the ghost of James King of William (a recently slain San Francisco activist). After some cross-questioning, however, it confessed it was not James King's ghost, but the shade of Capitana, a Kanaka crone Mrs.  Manrow's sister had known years before in Hawaii. They asked Capitana to endorse her statement with a physical sign. Instantly a bush outside the window shook violently, and they saw a form which materialized and then  vanished before their eyes.


"Then while they starred in fright out of the window, another shape materialized out of the ground. Its countenance was so hideous and repulsive that everyone but Paul fled the room in terror. As he watched it advanced on the house and disappeared into the wall."


[extra paragraphs about other, gentler spirits deleted]


"For many more months the spirits plagued the Manrows. They dashed flower pots against the walls, spilled water, rang the doorbell, turned off the lamps.  Once, in a playful mood, a spirit threw hatchet at Manrow. Narrowly it missed his head and whizzed past and buried its blade in the kitchen wall.

"Gradually, however, the spirits withdrew and left the Manrows alone, but  until the day in 1919 when it was torn down, the Swiss chalet on Russian Hill was known to San Franciscans as 'The House of Demons'."


Copyright Robert O'Brien, 1948. McGraw-Hill Book Company Inc.


Just another story from my home town.


Larry <bigbird@netcom.com> Burdick



Subject: Re: college ghosts

From: hbcdo008@csun.edu (Jiminy Cricket)

Date: Thu, 27 Apr 1995 03:44:59 GMT

Message-ID: <hbcdo008.72.2F9F133B@csun.edu>


My sister went to SDSU, and was a Resident Advisor for a couple of years. The TV room on her floor was haunted.  The TV would change channels with no one  near it (it was an old TV...no remote control).  I can't remember which  residence hall it was, either Zura or Tenochka (sp?),  she was an RA in both  buildings.  I can't remember if she said whether anyone had seen the ghost or not.  She's on exchange in Italy now, so I'll try to remember to ask her when she returns, unless, of course, anyone else here has the info.





Subject: Re: college ghosts

From: bbranch@ucssun1.sdsu.edu (Brian Branch)

Date: 25 Apr 1995 17:37:44 GMT

Message-ID: <3njc18$m5p@gondor.sdsu.edu>


Yea, the computer room at San Diego State University appears to have a ghost that cruises around.  A few have seen 'him' and describe the same thing - a darkish figure which 'walks' about the mainframe.  Generally, when it is seen, you cant get a direct look at it - only out of the corner of the eye.  It is non-threatening, but unnerving, nonetheless. 

----take it easy.

Subject: Re: college ghosts

From: ez052439@dale.ucdavis.edu (Kris Jachens)

Date: 27 Apr 1995 03:12:37 GMT

Message-ID: <3nn235$92p@mark.ucdavis.edu>


I'm a peer counselor at University of California, Davis.  The building we're in was built for the vice chancellor at the beginning of this century.  His wife died in childbirth and he moved out.  The University  later (in the sixties I think) moved it onto campus and the peer  counseling center set up camp.  The ghost of the dead wife hangs out  upstairs and I've heard also in the kitchen.  I've never seen or heard her, but I know people who say they have.


William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia has several ghosts including a French soldier and a Native American boy who was a student at the Indian School located on the campus in the late 18th century (I think).  I just took a ghost tour of Williamsburg that was really interesting.  Of course a three hundred year old school and town would have a few ghosts!




Subj:     Re: [bcohen@slip.net (Brian Cohen): haunted houses in SF Bay Area]

Date:    95-06-09 04:14:06 EDT

From:    magnum45@netcom.com

To:        obiwan@netcom.com

CC:       ghost-stories@netcom.com


From:    magnum45@netcom.com (Miss Magnum)

To:        obiwan@netcom.com (obiwan)

CC:       ghost-stories@netcom.com

There are a few buildings in SF that are supposed to be haunted.


One is the Victoria Theater The other is located downtown on Taylor Street between Post and Geary  Street.  It is now a massage parlor called Paris de Nuits or something like that-- .  A girl that used to work there lives next door to me- and  said she had many ghost sighting in that building.  Apparently- the old place is really infested with them.


There is a general area- 5 blocks circular in Pacific Heights that is  supposed to have lots of stuff wandering around.  One of the  intersections is Washington or Jackson and Steiner or Peirce.


Good Luck!]





Subject: Re: Orpheum Theater (ZUBROVKA <Agdesign@cris.com>)

From: magnum45@netcom.com

Date: Tue, 2 May 1995 08:41:06 GMT

Message-ID: <magnum45D7y04I.FoL@netcom.com>


There is a theater in San Francisco called the Victoria Theater.  It is  located in the Mission District of the city and has a ghost that appears nightly at midnight.  The theater is an old burlesque house that was converted to a conventional theater several years ago, but apparently

this ghost is from the period before Off Broadway plays were produced there.  According to a woman that I know ( and trust absolutely) that  witnessed one of the visitations- this ghost is a woman that appears on stage as a transparent female figure- and rein acts her strip tease nightly.

Other things such as cold spots -0 and that creepy feeling of being watched are supposed to be common - at least late at night. The phone number I have for them is 415-334-3307 and 415-863-7576 The owners names are Michael and Anita-- very nice people-- thought I doubt they would remember me because it has been so long since I spoke with them. You may tell them that Deborah Collins referred you- and when  you hear a dead silence on the  phone in response-- tell them I am a friend of  Michael Krische's (LD for What the Hell etc)-- they will remember him.  In all honesty-- I hope that, if they do get some attention for this haunting somehow- that they benefit from it nicely.  They are great people-- 2 of the few "true artists" left in the scene on the production  end of the Theatre business. good Luck-- and let me know what happens--especially if you hear reports of more ghosts in there!!


ALl the best,



Subj:     Interview at a haunted house

Date:    95-06-21 02:31:15 EDT

From:    bcohen@slip.net

To:        ghost-stories@netcom.com


From:    bcohen@slip.net (Brian Cohen)

To:        ghost-stories@netcom.com

Back in 1989, I had put an ad in the local paper asking people to call me if they lived in a haunted house.  Only one person responded, a woman who lived in a bottom flat of a two-story Victorian in Alameda (across the bay from San Francisco).  She said that the family upstairs had moved out overnight, and the Realtor had called her wanting to know why.

Footsteps were heard, lights were seen floating down a hallway, and the husband saw a woman--no, not his wife--in the mirror while he was shaving. When he turned around, no one was there.  That was the last straw for them.

While I was talking to the woman who answered my ad, I was sitting on a couch placed against a wall in the living room.  At some point, I heard heavy breathing coming from the wall and 2 feet from me and slightly above me.  The woman said she could not hear it (which was strange, since she considered herself to be psychic).  I tried to ignore this noise, but it persisted.  I got up and started to approach where the noise was on the wall.  But it moved, keeping its distance from me constant.  Thinking I could outsmart it, I kept walking and "herding" it to the end of the wall,

hoping to trap it there.  But when I got close to the end of the wall (where a hallway began out of the living room), it "panned" to the other side of me--again, 2 feet away.  I walked it to the other end, where the front door was, and it panned back to the left.

I opened the front door and saw that there was no wind.  Above us, there was another living room--no bathroom or kitchen with pipes to make sounds. On the other side of the wall was a bedroom--no one was in there.  No one was occupying the upper flat.  In short, there was no conventional explanation for this breathing (except that I must have been really turning on some ghost).

I felt no malice, so I continued my discussion with this woman about the history of the former tenants.  The noise did not follow me into my car when I drove home.  That was fortunate, since my wife was a fairly jealous sort and would have exorcised that paranormal floozy who was shamelessly lusting after me.


Brian Cohen



Subj:     Jogging ghost

Date:    95-06-24 13:06:10 EDT

From:    bcohen@slip.net

To:        ghost-stories@netcom.com


From:    bcohen@slip.net (Brian Cohen)

To:        ghost-stories@netcom.com

Here's a ghost story from my 11-year-old daughter, Justine.  Take it away,



My cousin told me told me that there was a girl who was raped and murdered on a street behind a restaurant in San Francisco named Emmie's.  She jogs in the street once in a while, maybe once a month.  We think it's because her murderers were never found.  My cousin says she looks like a normal person only white and you can kind of see through her.  Only a couple of people she knows have seen the girl.


Brian Cohen


To: obiwan@netcom.com

From: bcohen@slip.net (Brian Cohen)

Subject: Ghost at Red, White, and Blue Beach


In Santa Cruz, there is an old sailor who walks out the back door of a house and walks around a campground nearby.  He wears a slicker and a cap and fades away when you try to photograph him.  Campers on the beach have observed a lighted window at night on the hill above the sand.  In addition, they see the silhouette of someone walking back and forth in the large, cathedral-like window.  But in the day, they discover that the hillside is barren, no structures, no trees.  The owner of the house on the beach says that at least a dozen people per year have asked her about the old man in the raincoat.  Psychics have said that smuggling of people, bootlegging, murder, and incest have occurred in the house built in 1857 by a sea captain.  Bones dug up have been dated by forensics experts to be from around 1900.  Old bottles of homemade whiskey and the remains of a still were found.  Investigators have photographed streaks and blobs of light in the house.


Brian Cohen


To: obiwan@netcom.com

From: bcohen@slip.net (Brian Cohen)

Subject: coastal ghost stories


This is an overdue response to Craig's request for sea-going ghosts.


In Stinson Beach, CA, the ghost of Captain Alfred Easkoot reportedly still wanders the foggy shore looking for his golden hook.  As his casket was carried across the sand, the hook which was attached to a withered hand became detached and was washed out to sea.


His lumber schooner went aground on a nearby reef.  He then built a house from the remnants of the wreck.  Later, he fell in love with a beautiful woman from the east coast.  But a short time after, his bride died. Easkoot never recovered from the loss.  He became severely depressed (and

probably pretty horny) and took to roaming the beaches with his spyglass, looking for ships and trespassers.


When he died, his home was taken over by a descendant of a rival in the 1930s.  During this period, doors opened and closed of their own volition, lights flashed on and off by themselves, and unexplainable cold spots and smells occurred.  There was also a shadowy figure with a loose dangling sleeve and a seaman's cap.  The house was sold and resold until March 1976, when a fire gutted parts of the interior.  No one was in the house at the time.  The tenants did not return, their whereabouts unknown.  To this day, locals say that lights still flicker inside the deserted house along Hwy 1.


Subj:     UCSB Ghost

Date:    95-06-22 14:57:20 EDT

From:    obiwan@netcom.com

To:        ghost-stories@netcom.com


From:    obiwan@netcom.com (obiwan)

To:        ghost-stories@netcom.com

From: udahner@mcl.ucsb.edu (Name withheld upon request)

Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories

Subject: Re: theatre ghosts

Date: 11 Feb 1995 20:20:37 GMT


Okay:  I was just in a show at the University of California, Santa Barbara, which closed last Sunday (the show, not the university.  :)  I am allergic  to hair spray so I can't change in the dressing rooms in the basement of  the theater.  Since the theater is located in the music building, I ran up to a practice room on the second floor to change costumes and make up. (A practice room is a small room, usually with a piano, where musicians and singers go to practice on campus).  After Friday night's show, I was talking to some friends who had come to see it and guess I took longer than usual to change and take off my make up, because by the time I had

brought my costumes back down to drop them off at the dressing rooms, the theater was dark and locked and everyone had left.  I was bummed because I was standing there with my bike and an armful of costumes that I couldn't very well take home with me on my bike.  So I locked my bike and began systematically trying doors all around the theater to see if one was open and I could at last leave the costumes inside the theater tucked away somewhere until the next day's performance.  Every door I tried was locked, though: stage entrance, main doors, shop room... so in desperation I took the stairwell down to the basement.  There are professor's offices and more practice rooms in the basement, and at the  end of the corridor is a door, more often than not locked, which  leads to another corridor which goes to the dressing rooms.  Surprisingly this door was open.  I was very relieved, because I figured this meant that someone was still there and I would be able to lock up my costumes. I went through and down the corridor to the dressing rooms, but as I approached them I could see that all the doors were locked and most

of the lights were off.  Out of desperation, I decided to go to the women's dressing room door and try it anyway, because I had to leave the costumes *somewhere*.  As I moved down the corridor and turned to open the door, I stopped dead in my tracks about 3 feet from the door; I felt an   unmistakable sudden chill and the *hair* on the back of my neck *rose*, which is a VERY bizarre sensation, for those of you who have never felt it.  I got the distinct feeling that there was someone standing behind me.  Moreover, I got the feeling that it was male and older, not the age of someone in the cast or a student.  But there are people working with the

show who *are* older, including orchestra members, so I figured it was one of them.  I turned -- and there was no one there.  But I *felt* they were still there, and watching me.  I tried to shake off the feeling once I didn't *see* anyone standing there; I called out "Who is that?", still hoping

that maybe it was someone who'd unlock the dressing room for me (!).  When no one responded (but I still felt weird), I decided to go try the *other* entrance to the women's dressing room around the corner (not realizing I still hadn't checked the door I was standing by).  I took two steps down the corridor and stopped again; the pit of my stomach had just fallen out, like when you're in an elevator that drops too quickly.  I got the abrupt feeling that it would be a *VERY BAD* idea to go down that corridor, and whatever I was feeling was watching me which had previously been pretty neutral felt suddenly threatening.  I got the impression of a very large...

*presence*... *looming* over me, and that I should *GET OUT NOW*.  Did I? YOU BETCHA!!  I turned right around and headed back the way I'd come, trying futilely to hum tunes from the show but breaking into a run before I even made it to the door that led back to the professor's offices and practice rooms.  As soon as I'd made it through and rounded the corner, all the feelings suddenly... vanished.  Like they'd never even happened.  Needless to say, I was spooked -- badly.  I rolled up the costumes in a huge ball and somehow made it home with them on my bike.  I told two other cast members about it, but no one else, and I've never heard of anything like that  happening in that theater.  I will never, ever go down to the basement by

myself ever again.  Not for a bazillion dollars!!!  (FWIW, I've been in LOTS of performances in that theater and *have* been in the basement lots of times by myself -- before.  But I won't go ever again!).  I felt like whatever/whoever was down there had BUSINESS down there that I had

unwittingly intruded upon, and the consequences if I had stayed would've been... very unpleasant.  *Whew!*  Boy did I have trouble sleeping for the next  couple of nights.  I was so badly spooked that one of the other cast members I had told came to check on me after the next show; I didn't like being in the basement even with all the other people around, although I didn't

feel anything amiss ever again.  Scary!!!




Subject: A Ghost Calender

From: daniel.leathers@wdn.com (DANIEL LEATHERS)

Date: Tue, 18 Apr 95 10:07:00 -300

Message-ID: <8A7A25F.07D2000DD2.uuout@wdn.com>


The following is a calender of ghost sightings. These sightings are dates on which, if lucky, you can see some cyclic or recurring ghost. First let's identify a "cyclic or recurring ghost". These are ghost that are triggered by traumatic occurrences, recur in regular cycles, usually annually.  It is as though whatever it takes to cause such a ghost to appear takes a set time to build up again. Cyclic ghost reports are numerous but few are well-authenticated. It may be that the presence of certain people or a certain type of person, climatic conditions, atmospheric pressure and alterations in the magnetic fields may all play a part in these periodic manifestations. No one knows for sure what causes these ghost to appear when they do, but research is still going on.

                        A Ghost Calender


  27  President Abraham Lincoln's funeral train travels from Washington

      DC to Illinois


  15  Every two years a lady in pink appears in the Yorba Family

      Cemetery in California


  31  six hooded figures haunt St. Rits'a in Chicago


c.15  A monk haunts a church in Millvale, Pennsylvania, in the middle of

the month and late at night


      Early in December a woman in black haunts the Stevenson House

      Museum in California



From: lawrence@OCF.Berkeley.EDU (Robert Lawrence)Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-storiesSubject: Re: Any haunted places in So. California? (long)Date: 23 Jan 1995 12:58:03 GMTFrom personal experience, I believe that Black Star Canyon, or a portion of it (in Orange County) is haunted.  This is my story: When I was a teenager, living in Orange County, a friend of mine and I went out to a place in Orange County called Black Star Canyon.  Black Star is a long canyon that winds down from the Santa Ana mountains into O. C.  We brought an air rifle (BB's and pellets) with us so that we could do some hunting/shooting. We had headed up a side canyon a ways, and were sitting on a large boulder under an oak tree.  As we had walked along, we had been firing away at several birds and such.  While we were sitting there, we heard some very peculiar noises.  They were crow calls, but had a very unearthly sound to them.  I have never heard a crow that sounded similar before or since, and I have seen/heard many crows in my life.  There is no way that I can describe with this medium how strange they sounded.  I remarked to my friend that it sounded like a human trying to imitate a crow.  We started to get scared, for it was unlike anything either of us had ever heard before.  As if the sounds were not bad enough, the crow itself started to fly around us, just above the top of the oak tree we were sitting under.  It was huge, and we could hear the sound of it flapping its wings, a strange kind of swooshing sound.  It then continued to utter its eerie calls again.  Also, the wind kicked up and started to blow the tree about quite violently.  There had been little or no wind up until this time.  This was more than we could take, and we headed out of there.  When we got back down to the main canyon, we grew more bold again, as the crow had not followed us.  In this part of the canyon there were a few foundations of houses/buildings that had either been torn down, or washed away by flooding.  Anyway, as we were walking through this area, we saw a small cottontail rabbit sitting next to a tree.  I had the rifle, and shot it.  But it acted as though it had felt nothing.  I know I hit it, because I saw a flattening/displacement of the fur.  We were amazed, and I passed the gun to my friend, who pumped it up, loaded it with another pellet, and shot it again (he hit it too, no doubt about it).  It continued to just sit there, looking at us.  This rabbit was no more that ten yards away, and the gun was an air rifle that had to be pumped 8-10 times between each shot.  And it was plenty powerful enough to penetrate a rabbit.  I then took the gun back, pumped it up, and shot the rabbit a third time.  Still it continued to just sit there and stare at us.  Mind you that all this time, we were talking to each other, and standing in the open.  Anyone who has hunted rabbits can tell you that this is atypical behavior for a rabbit who is being shot, and we started to get scared again.  We decided that we had to finish him off, so my friend took the gun, pumped it up, and then we both walked to within six feet of the rabbit, who continued to sit there.  Holding the rifle in one hand, he extended it toward the creature and fired again.  The barrel was only about a foot from it, and the shot hit an ear, causing it to be bent/broken at a 90 degree angle.  It then rambled off, but not  at a full speed run.  At this point, let me say that I know this sounds cruel to many of you, but please remember that I was a raging hormone teenage male at the time.  At this point, the wind kicked up again.  We got very scared and headed for the car.  Before we got there, we looked up at an exposed area of the side of the canyon, and both of us saw a sight I will never forget.  We both saw the same thing: a group of some kind of creatures walking together.  They were all black, and seemed almost to walk in formation.  We both were reminded of penguins by the way they walked.  One peculiar thing was that the whole group moved in perfect unison.  They headed down the hillside anyway, and stopped.  After a brief interval, they all headed down the hill a ways and stopped again.  I estimate the height of these things to have been about two feet tall, all black, with an outline that suggested an upright creature, like a penguin or something.  I know it sounds bizarre, but that is what they looked like.  We were stupefied.  After watching these things come down the hill awhile, one of us finally said that they were after us and that we had to get the hell out of there.  We then ran to the car, fearing for our lives.  But the game was not up when we got to the car.  When my friend tried to start it, nothing happened.  He turned the key a few times, but nothing. Finally, it turned over once or twice, and a loud popping noise came from the engine compartment, followed by black smoke that drifted up from under the hood.  At this point, we were almost beside ourselves with fear.  We opened the hood and looked at the engine, but there was no fire, and nothing looked amiss.  We then tried it again, and it started.  Needless to say, we

 sped off down the road (Black Star Canyon Road) at a high rate of speed.  That car had never exhibited that kind of behavior before or after that incident, and a more thorough examination of the engine performed later revealed nothing.  About five years after the above happened, I  chanced to see an article in a local newspaper that related various historical facts about Orange County.  One story caught my eye and immediately made me think of the above.  It related that when the Spanish ruled California, and the missions were in full operation, there was a small band of Native Americans who lived in Black Star Canyon.  I don't remember all the details of the article very well, but it seems that they were a peaceful tribe who did not want to submit to the missionary efforts of the Spanish.  So one day, a group of conquistadors marched up into the canyon and annihilated the entire band.  This much at least is an historical fact that can be verified.  After reading the article, the whole experience came back to me, and made sense for the first time.  I thought (and still sometimes do) of the rabbit, so peaceful and harmless, being shot from pure ignorance.  I can't help likening it to the Indians being massacred.  And the Crow messenger: I thought that it sounded human because perhaps a spirit of one of the dead Indians was speaking through it.  And the hideous little black creatures walking in formation: they were the Spanish soldiers approaching the village. Of course, these are my observations, made after finding out that a band of Indians had been wiped out there.  Before I read that article, the incident was just strange and scary.  Now, the memory of it fills me with a profound feeling of sadness and loss.


From: udahner@mcl.ucsb.edu (Name withheld upon request) Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-storiesSubject: Movie Theater Ghost (story)Date: 23 Feb 1995 05:10:09 GMTYou *can* still post stories here, right?  ;)I used to work in a General Cinema in Redondo Beach, California.  There were three theaters on the grounds (three separate buildings), the largest of which I worked in.  This theater was also directly adjacent to a LARGE old cemetery.  When I first started there, I heard the other workers joke about "the ghost" in the theater.  I didn't think much about it, thinking the proximity of the cemetery would lend itself to ghost stories, legitimate or not.  After a few weeks, I was given a tad more responsibility and would open or close the theater with one of the assistant managers.  The theater had an upstairs projector like any other theater.  There was a small employee locker room (since we wore uniforms) that you had to pass through the projector room to get to (the projectors are automated, so there was never anyone up there).  Next to that there was a tiny room where we popped all of our popcorn.  For starters, the projector room always freaked me a little.  It was VERY dark and shadowy, and unless you happened to be coming on or going off a shift the exact same time as someone else, you were always up there alone.  I thought I saw things move in the shadows out of the corner of my eye as I walked through it.  I could've imagined that, I guess, but what was definitely not imagined was the Really Cold Spot. This happened on the wall the divided the popcorn room and the projector room.  Popping corn always generated TONS of heat (and was thus the least-favorite duty of the theater workers) and since there was no ventilation in the room, it got stifling hot in there.  The wall between the two rooms always heated as well -- except for the Cold Spot.  It was at eye level, roughly the shape of a head and shoulders (like a "bust" of someone). No matter how long you'd been popping popcorn and how hot it got in the popcorn room and subsequently the wall, there was still a Cold Spot.  What's worse: the spot *moved*.  Not while anyone was actually feeling it (as far as I know), but it would be at different places along the wall, and it would move sometimes within minutes of someone locating its position.  It was weird.  Once another woman reported seeing *eyes* in that corner of the projector room, and she never went upstairs again, just stashed her personal stuff in the manager's office and changed in the restroom.  One of the assistant managers also refused to go up there, at least by himself.  The other assistant manager had an interesting story to tell, too, which I'll get to in a minute...My own experiences (other than the Cold Spot and the generally creepy feeling up there) were mainly limited to the concession stand.  Doesn't sound like a very spooky place, does it?  As I started opening and closing, often back-to-back, I began to notice weird things happened overnight. Cabinets I *know* I locked (with keys and a small padlock) were unlocked and open in the morning.  Supplies were moved around and knocked over in the supply room directly behind the concession counter.  *Several* times I felt a cold chill and a breeze, like someone had just run past and I was feeling the wind in their wake.  Twice another worker behind the concession stand reported feeling the same thing the same time I had.  I*suppose* someone could've come back in and done all that overnight, but it would've had to have been either the two assistant managers or the manager himself.  We were a pretty small, closely-knit group; I doubt *any* of them would've done anything like that, ever.  And keeping it up over a year seems even more unlikely. So:  the assistant manager's story.  One night she was closing with one other woman.  They were getting ready to leave and the other woman had gone back up to the employees' room to get her things.  There's an in-house phone in the projector room, and she called down to the office to tell the asst. manager that there was someone in the theater.  She said there was a weird woman standing down by the curtain.  The asst. manager went to check it out.  This wasn't all that unusual, sometimes transients tried to stay in the theater after closing, and since the alarm hadn't been set it was possible (albeit unlikely) that someone had managed to  sneak in the exit doors and was down there messing around.  The asst. manager went into the theater.  What she saw was a pale, greyish-looking woman in a plain long skirt and a blouse.  She had long hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, and the asst. manager said she distinctly remembers seeing the skirt moving and strands of hair moving behind her head, as if there was a breeze blowing, but there wasn't a breeze inside the theater!  As the asst. manager walked down the aisle towards her, she told the woman the theater was closed.  As she got closer, she could see the woman's mouth moving, as if she were talking, but the asst. manager couldn't hear her saying anything.  The woman wasn't looking at her but out into the theater.  As she got closer, the strange woman suddenly looked straight at her as if noticing her for the first time, and suddenly VANISHED.  No movement, no disturbance behind the curtain, NOTHING.  She was simply there one moment and gone the next.  The assistant manager was extremely shaken, natch.  She ran out of the theater back into the lobby.  She nearly had a heart attack when she thought she heard footsteps coming after her -- she *did* hear footsteps but they were those of the other worker running down the stairs from the projector room -- *she had seen the whole thing*.  She had been watching from the window in the projector room until the strange woman vanished, then she freaked and ran out of the projector room and down to the lobby. Neither woman would stay in the theater by themselves after that. Just a note:  I never met the woman who'd been watching from the projector room, because she'd quit before I was hired, but I *did* get to know that assistant manager.  She was a very level-headed, calm woman whom everybody liked, and I can't imagine her making something like that up.  The fact that the *manager* believed her story -- although he wouldn't tell me any others -- gives it even more credibility. Whatever happened, something weird was definitely going on in that theater!--Dahner Brid                     "Anyone can be a husband, lover; sooner them     FDC Princess Leia          than me when they discover their domestic bliss                              is shelter for their failing."   -- "Chess"



Subject: Cali haunting, Magic castle...

From: flood@lightside.com (Technoshaman)

Date: 7 May 1995 09:49:06 GMT

Message-ID: <3oi52i$83v@covina.lightside.com>


There have been rumors about a recent haunting at the Hollywood Magic Castle of which I am a member.. I have heard different stories from Members about a woman who screams in the Night and plays the piano *NOT IRMA!!!!* a real ghost

I'm talking about..

     Just the other day I was there having brunch and I went downstairs and this huge rush or air went past me.... I have heard the same from other members..

     In 1991 a beloved member Dai Vernon *the Professor* died and we have a memorial

there for him.. he was the godfather of magic in the 1900's.... and was a great loss. Since then there have been reports of seeing his ghost all around.. I have witnessed the following

It was cleanup time at the castle I was late there from a show I had performed earlier.. just the cleanup crew was around and no one else .. I was packing my props and clothes when I smelled some smoke like that of a cigar I looked around the bar, no cigar.. Then I felt that rush of wind and looked on the bar and there was a el-feliz cigar freshly lit in an ashtray with an ace of spades next to it.. dai vernons' favorite card and cigar!! I was so scared I ran.... Now I have no idea what to think... I would really like to talk to his ghost

but would look stupid.. anyhow. BYE!!





Subject: Re: Stuff in San Diego

From: tonyz@rose.hp.com (Tony Zugec)

Date: 15 May 1995 18:31:44 GMT

Message-ID: <3p86mg$7cj@hpscit.sc.hp.com>

Only places I know of are Hotel Del  (you can stay in the haunted room if it's avail), Proctor Valley (my pals got the bajeezus scared out of 'em there) and of course, the Whaley House in Old Town, cant stay there late enough to see anything.

Anybody else know of somewhere in Insane Diego?