Ever Had a Ghost Hitch a Ride With You?

Onward and upward we go, on to my next leg of the paranormal crazy train that became my life! As mentioned in my previous post, I had quite an interesting visit to not only a historic hotel, but one that brought out the “Linda Blair” in me…can you say PEA SOUP?

I left off on our drive AWAY from the Crescent Hotel, which BTW, was featured on Ghost Hunters, the show on Sci-Fi (not our drive…the Crescent Hotel). Actually, so was Carroll Heath, our tour guide, but this was three or four years AFTER my experience there.

We drove back to the cabin we were staying in, which was so nice! They were new, sat on the edge of a mountainside and overlooked a beautiful lake. I felt fine, even after scarfing the McDonalds we had stopped for. It was our last night there, and I wanted to stay up late and see if the raccoons we had been told about would come to the back door to snack on the assortment of goodies that we had left for them. Hubby went to bed, while I read in the living room. It had one of those dimmer switch lights, which I had turned down low, so as not to disturb Kel.

Suddenly the lights went out! I rolled my eyes and got up, turning the dial a bit higher, cursing dimmer switches. About two minutes later, out they go again. Gritting my teeth, I felt my way back to the switch, and turned the darn thing ALL the way up. I sat back down, and picked up my book, but before I could read a full sentence….you guessed it, out go the lights. Third time’s the charm for me; I just left the stupid thing off, put my book down, and awaited the raccoons.

Now, after reading my previous story, you may be smacking yourself on the head, wondering why I didn’t run screaming out the door. I seriously thought it was a malfunctioning light. I am NOT an alarmist, and although I do have an imagination to rival most, I only use it when I write. That, and I so wanted to see the darn raccoons!

I wasn’t disappointed, two HUGE raccoons showed up, sitting on their hind quarters, clutching pieces of bread in their tiny hands and eating their midnight buffet. I got Kel out of bed to watch them, and I was surprised how BIG they were…I think they were extremely well fed by the guests.

The night ended with no more odd occurrences, at least none that I noticed. We both got up the next morning, dreading the long drive back to Oklahoma. While I finished packing in the bedroom, Kel was loading up the truck outside. I was busy, and didn’t even realize that I could hear the fan running from the bathroom vent, until it suddenly clicked off. I remember standing at the end of the bed and looking towards the bathroom thinking Kel must have somehow snuck by me. I called out to him. No answer. I turned and went out of the room, through the living room, and out the door. Sure enough, there was Kel, loading the truck.

“Did you leave the fan on in the bathroom?” I yelled to him.
“Yeah, sorry, I forgot to turn it off.”
“Was it on a timer or something? It just clicked off.” I replied, shifting my weight from one foot to another, not wanting to go back in alone.

Seeing my discomfort, Kel left the truck and came over. I followed behind him back into the cabin. He went straight into the bathroom. The switch was off. There was no timer.

“Are you sure you didn’t turn it off?” He asked me, after fiddling with the switch a few times.
“Of course I didn’t! I told you that I was in the bedroom packing when I heard the switch click and the fan stop.”

He just shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and continued to get ready to leave. I shadowed his EVERY move! I was NOT going to be left alone in that cabin by myself again. Yes, now I became a chicken, a big one, I think I clucked a few times for good measure.

I breathed a sigh of relief once we got on the road. I even relaxed a bit, which was hard to do driving through the mountainous Ozark region. I am scared of heights, and some of the drop-offs next to the highway were pretty steep. I tried to ignore the beautiful scenery and read some more, at least until Kel just about ran off the road!

“What the hell?!” Kel said, while straining his head to look behind him into the backseat of his truck.

It was my turn to look at him as if he had lost his mind.

“I just saw a man sitting in the back seat, Terri. I swear I did, but there's no one there.”

Mmmhmmmm. Some vacation! We were both coming back not only paranoid, but now Kel was seeing things. Bad sign. No more vacations for us for a while.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and we were both happy to be home, and glad to see the kids (we already had his, mine, and ours BEFORE we were legally married). By the time we dropped into the bed, it was late that night, the kids were all asleep, and we were exhausted. We always left the light on in the bathroom, so that it illuminated the hallway. It wasn’t as bright as the hall light, and the kids often got up in the night.

I was almost asleep, when the house was engulfed in darkness. I could feel Kel jump out of bed.

“It was probably one of the kids just going to the bathroom hon.” I said, from the comfort and security of my side of the bed.
“I’ll just check on them.” So off he trots down the hall, first turning on the bathroom light. I watch from my bed. Our room was at the end of the hall, which gave me a full view of the nightly bed check; first the girl’s room, then my son’s.

Finding them all snug in their beds and asleep, he then proceeded to examine the light switch in OUR bathroom. At this point, I get up. The longer I watch him trying to turn the switch half on to see if it could be done, the more nervous we both get. We start to discuss the lights from the cabin, then the exhaust fan, and then of course the man in the backseat that wasn’t there came up. Within a few minutes, we had convinced ourselves that we were screwed with a capital “G” as in ghost, boogey man, poltergeist, and any other word that may or may not contain a “G”.

I was so upset that I actually called the ghost tour place and left a frantic message on their recorder, claiming to have “brought something home with us” and “not knowing what to do about it”.

Needless to say, we slept little that night. By dawn, I was overjoyed at the sight of the glorious sun. The light swept away the fear that had gripped us both, not only fears of the unknown, but fear for our children. Hey, who hasn’t seen Poltergeist, or Amityville Horror?

That afternoon following snack-time, the pantry light was left on. Any parents with small children know what a battle it is to get them to turn off lights after they have turned them on. Kel lined them up and asked them who had left the light on. Being in total “parent mode”, we looked at my son with confusion when he started laughing. Had he lost his mind? What the heck?
“Did you turn on the pantry light, Tommy?”
“No, I turned OFF the light.” He responded between giggles.
“What light?” I eyed him suspiciously.
“The bathroom light; last night.” He said between laughs. Like that was going to make up for NOT turning….WAIT! Did he just say last night???????????

Okay, I’ll admit it, I wanted to KILL him right then. That little turd turned off the bathroom light the night before. Our “ghost” was an eight year old boy, not only that, but he KNEW! He had heard all of it! He was worse than a ghost, he was EVIL I say!

Talk about feeling STUPID! Yeah, we did.

You might think that my story would end there. If only it had…

Until next time, keep the lights on and avoid ghost hang-outs, you might have uninvited house guests…I did.

And the Paranormal Journey Continues...

As promised, here is the beginning of my paranormal story. My previous post was a prologue of sorts, so I will go directly into my first trip to the Crescent Hotel!

It was Saturday, October 4, 2002. The weather was beautiful, much like it is today. Kel and I decided to arrive at the hotel early, so we could get our ticket to the ghost tour and have time to look around. At this point, I didn’t know much about the history, but boy was that going to change!

Walking into the hotel was like walking into a past era. The furnishings are gorgeous and a huge fireplace sits in the center of the lobby. Double doors at the back of the lobby lead to a sweeping veranda over-looking manicured gardens and a beautiful catholic church. The hotel sits on a mountain top, so the view goes on for miles. I had never been anywhere so picture book perfect before. The place was like a fairy tale, unfortunately it was a bit too much like a Grimm’s fairy tale, but I just didn’t know it yet!

I was entranced. The atmosphere, the surroundings, the antique furnishings all lent to the surreal feeling that had over-taken me. I couldn’t wait for the tour to start. We had gone to the second floor and purchased our tickets before we ventured out to the veranda. A small TV sat on a table, and a group of young men stood around watching a college football game (it wasn’t OU, so I can’t remember who was playing). Kel struck up a conversation about football with the men, so I wandered over to the steps leading into the darkened garden. I remember standing there, feeling the pull to go down and explore, even in the dark, but the ghost tour would be starting soon, so I resisted.

We made our way back up the stairs to meet on the second floor. The group was large, so they split us up into two groups. We were in the group led by tour guide Carrol Heath (pictured below). We made our way up to the third floor. Seated along the hall, we settled in for the “history” part of the tour.

The Crescent Hotel was built in 1886. I’ll leave out the specifics of who built it, but I do know, and even have pictures of the original owners (OCD is helpful when you are a writer, but when you just OCD about a hotel, you get called obsessive like it’s a BAD thing). It was opened to cater to the rich, advertising the “healing springs”.

After that fad had passed, it became a women’s college, and then closed its doors following the depression.

Here’s where it gets REAL interesting. Around 1937, the hotel was bought by Norman Baker, formerly of Muscatine, Iowa. Baker opened the Baker Cancer Cure Hospital. He sent out flyers in the mail (I actually have an original…Ebay is so cool), advertising his 100% cure rate for cancer. Having guaranteed his cure, when patients started dropping like flies, he couldn’t very well cart them out in broad daylight, now could he? OF COURSE NOT!

In the cover of night, the bodies were taken down into the basement. Autopsies were preformed (the original autopsy table is still down there). Then the bodies were incinerated. Ashes were spread here and there (underground tunnels, scattered amongst the trees next to the hotel, etc). Baker would have the patients write a series of letters to their loved ones upon arrival. He would continue to send these out long after their death, so he could still receive the checks from their families.

Baker was eventually arrested for mail fraud (remember those flyers he sent out?), and spent a few years in Leavenworth. He retired quietly to Florida after his release, where he died in the 1950’s.

Now, this is but a small bit of info on Baker, but believe me when I tell you I have books on the man and mountains of research. He was interesting to say the least. From his days in vaudeville, to inventing a compressed air organ, the Tangley Calliope, to owning his own radio station, he was an entrepreneur, but one with a God-complex.

Okay, I digress, not all of that came from the ghost tour, in fact, very little. As we sat in the hall, our tour guide, Mr. Carroll Heath, regaled us with stories of the many reports of hauntings over the last few decades. The playful spirit of Michael, a brick layer who fell to his death while building the Crescent, to a little old lady that likes to move your suitcases against the door in the middle of the night, the Crescent seemed to have any number of Victorian aged gentlemen and ladies, along with Baker’s unfortunate patients.

While sitting and listening to these stories, I was engrossed. I never took my eyes off of our guide. The heat in the hallway seemed to become overwhelming, and I found myself using a pamphlet to fan my face, which felt flushed and on fire. I started feeling a bit lightheaded when we stood to take the actual tour of the hotel, beginning in the basement where the autopsies were done. I went to our guide and asked where the closest restroom was, simply to splash water on my face. He directed me to the fourth floor. I told him that I would catch up, but he insisted on waiting with the group right there on the third floor.

Here’s where things get a bit blurry. I made it up to the restroom, which was thankfully right off of the stairwell. I splashed water on my face. I do remember that, but not much else. Time seemed to stand still. I would have sworn I was only in there for a few minutes…Kel said it was closer to TWENTY! I climbed down the stairs, clutching the rail for dear life. When I made it down to the group, we proceeded to the lobby area. I told Kel that I needed to leave. He agreed, since he had developed a stomach ache. He went to go find a restroom, and I located the tour guide (No, we actually hadn’t eaten anything yet, so it wasn’t something we ate, and I didn’t have an upset stomach…yet).

Mr. Heath was by the stairs, and as I approached him, he said “You can’t stay.” I was a bit taken aback. “No, I was just going to tell you that my husband and I were leaving.”
He placed his hand on my arm. “You are too sensitive. Go.”

Okay, on my weirdness scale, that was off the charts. Too sensitive? WTF did that mean? So thinking about that, I went to sit in the lobby. When I reached the fireplace, I was overwhelmed by dizziness again, and practically rushed outside, knowing I was either going to pass out on the way, or before I reached the bottom of the steps leading to the parking lot. I have never in my life passed out, and I didn’t care for this feeling. I sat on the bottom step, with my head resting on my knees, hoping that Kel would find me there.

Here’s where things got really messed up. I remember him coming out and I felt like I needed to RUN to the truck. I had tunnel vision, another new concept for me. I felt like I was dragging him to the truck, I couldn’t get away from that place fast enough. Only problem is, that’s NOT what happened.

After conferring with Kel, his version is quite a bit different. He found me at the bottom of the steps and helped me up. We walked about fifteen feet to small bricked in flower garden, where I sat (no recollection of this). He asked if I wanted him to go get the truck, since it was about 35-40 yards out. I told him no, and he helped me stand, putting my arm over his neck. He had to support my weight all the way to the truck. He helped me in.

Next thing you know, I am bailing out of the truck, and violently vomiting (Kel’s description). He came around, really not knowing what to do. I sat on the floor of the front seat, refusing to get all the way back into the truck. I do remember most of this, although I have holes in the actual order of events that Kel has had to fill in. He finally got me back into the truck.

I tried to get Kel to write out his version, because he is such a great story teller. He told me that I was the writer, so I should tell it. I have had to go ask him for verification several times. Now here’s his wording about the rest.

I looked zoned out – looking straight ahead like I was hypnotized. He backed the truck out and asked if I was alright. “I’m burning up.” I replied, which shocked him, since the temperature had dropped into the 50’s. About ten seconds later, my teeth are chattering and I say, “I’m freezing”. I was still staring straight ahead and hadn’t looked at him, which he said scared the hell out of him. He turned to me as we were in front of the hotel and said “Terri”. No response. He raised his voice and once again said “Terri!” This time I turned and looked at him. He said it looked like I had swallowed a light bulb and it was stuck in my throat. An eerie pale white glow came from the inside making me look like you would imagine a ghost would - glowing. He said it was freaky. He is the logical type, and he was completely baffled as to what could cause that and it alarmed him to say the least.
“Just go. We must leave.” Was all I said in response.

After turning onto a residential street away from the Crescent Hotel, I said “Honey, I’m hungry, let’s get something to eat.” Like nothing had happened. He said it was freakin weird. That was the first sign that he had seen that I was “myself” since the ghost tour had started.

We drove through McDonald’s, went back to the cabin, ate, and I never felt ill, or abnormal again. I would like to say that nothing else happened, but I’d be lying. That I will save for the next post!