Specters Stay On and On at National Trust Historic Hotels of
Ghosts and goblins are notorious for making their presence known
around Halloween, but at some members of Historic Hotels of
America, otherworldly visitors appear year-round. These spirited
specters range from former owners to chambermaids and bellmen
to mysterious guests who never check out. Some move furniture,
play pranks on the hotel staff or knock on guestroom doors,
while others are merely mystifying presences. Sharing space
with these animated apparitions makes staying at Historic Hotels
of America a ghostly good time.
If you check into room 3327 at the Hotel del Coronado in Coronado,
Calif., you might share a room with Kate Morgan. In 1892, the
young Mrs. Morgan checked into the hotel to meet her estranged
husband. To her dismay, he never showed. Several days later,
Kate's body was found on the hotel steps leading to the ocean.
Since her tragic death, witnesses have been puzzled by odd noises,
spirited breezes, strange faces and the ghostly figure of a
young lady dressed in a black lace dress. Could it be that she
is still waiting for her husband in room 3327?
One night after an argument with her husband, Sallie White,
a chambermaid at The Menger Hotel in San Antonio, stayed at
the hotel presumably with another man. The next day her husband
threatened to kill her. On March 28, 1876, Sallie was attacked
by her husband and died two days later. The hotel paid for the
funeral cost of $32, as recorded in the hotel ledger. Legend
has it that Sallie White still roams the halls of the Victorian
wing of the hotel. A few years ago, a guest wanted extra towels.
He opened the door of his room and called out to a maid who
ignored him. The guest called the front desk to inquire why
the maid was so rude. He described the maid and her uniform
-- one that was worn in the late 1800s, about the time of Sallie's
employment at the hotel.
"Time is infinite. I wait for you by our fountain . . .
to share our timeless love, our destiny is time." Thomas
Rowe received this note upon the death of his beloved Lucinda.
The two met in the 1890s when Rowe was studying in Europe. Lucinda's
parents forbade the relationship and the forlorn Rowe returned
to America. For years his letters to her were returned unopened.
In 1925, Rowe built the Don CeSar Beach Resort and Spa in St.
Pete Beach, Fla. The lobby of the hotel included a replica of
the courtyard and fountain where Rowe and Lucinda used to meet.
Although the fountain no longer exists, employees at the Don
CeSar tell tales of seeing a couple who suddenly appear walking
hand-in-hand in the hotel and then disappearing.
The "Lady in Green" is said to walk the Hall of Mirrors
and Mezzanine level of the Hilton Cincinnati Netherland Plaza.
Several construction workers reported seeing the "Lady"
during the hotel's 1983 renovation. According to legend, her
husband, a hotel laborer, was killed in the construction of
the hotel in 1930. His body was never found and his wife, the
"Lady in Green," spends her restless nights searching
"HERE COMES THE BRIDE"
Built as a country
home in 1902 and operating as an inn since 1927, the Lighthouse
Inn in New London, Conn., has seen many brides. A long-told
story speaks of a young bride getting married at the inn who
fell walking down the grand staircase. She slipped, fell down
and broke her neck. Since this event, there have been sightings
of a young woman dressed in a period wedding gown sitting in
a guest room reading a book, walking on the third floor and
roaming through some of the rooms.
More than one bridegroom has inquired about the mysterious bellman
at the Jekyll Island Club Hotel in Jekyll Island, Ga. It seems
this "bellman" is dressed in a cap and suit reminiscent
of a 1920s movie. He delivers freshly pressed suits to bridegrooms
and has been seen mostly on the second floor, knocking gently
on the guestroom door announcing his delivery.
The mysterious Pink
Lady at The Grove Park Inn Resort in Asheville, N.C., has been
seen, felt and experienced by hotel employees and guests for
more than a half century. Little was known about the Pink Lady
- just a swirl of stories about a young woman dressed in pink
who fell to her death in the Palm Court atrium around 1920.
Mere rumors, tales and lore weaving through the inn's rich history.
In 1996, the Grove Park Inn conducted in-depth research on the
Pink Lady phenomenon and the resulting evidence focused on room
545, two stories above the Palm Court atrium floor.
A painter from the late 1950s or early 60s and the hotel's current
engineering facilities manager have reported strikingly similar
tales about room 545. Both got cold chills on their way into
the room so severe they never again attempted to enter. Interestingly,
neither employee knew of the other's experience, or about room
545's connection to the Pink Lady. Another employee who has
seen the Pink Lady several times over the past five years describes
the apparition as "a real dense smoke - a pinkish pastel
that just flows. It's a real gentle spirit, whatever it is."
The Inn's guests have also had encounters wit the Pink Lady.
In September of 2001, guest Mike Mooney read about the Pink
Lady before traveling to the Grove Park Inn. At about 11:00
on the night of his arrival, Mooney went through the atrium
to get a soda from the vending machine. No one else was in the
atrium. Mooney describes the experience. "The room felt
heavy when I walked in but I didn't think anything of it.
However, when I returned with the soda and passed the old bench
chair, the hair on the left side of my body just stood on end
and bristled. I also felt something tugging at my left ear as
I passed the chair. I paused for a second but as soon as I went
passed it, the hair went down and I ran like hell back to the
Several years ago, Kathy J. Urbin of Blountville, Tenn., felt
the Pink Lady. She traveled to the Grove Park Inn in January
1998 with her husband and two teenage daughters She was awakened
about midnight by what she thought were guests checking into
the adjoining room and comforted herself by holding her husband's
hand. "Implausibly, I realized that the hand I was holding
was on my left side and that my husband was lying on my right
side." Thinking that one of her daughters had been startled,
Urbin turned to the left expecting to find one of the girls.
To her complete surprise, no one was there, and, instantly,
the experience of holding a warm hand was gone. Feeling confused
by the experience, Urbin mentioned it to a front desk clerk
and was told that no one was staying in the room adjoining hers.
The clerk referred her to a book about the history of the hotel.
After reading the book, Urbin concluded that she "must
have held the hand of the Pink Lady herself!"
While the research left too much evidence to write off the Pink
Lady as just a fantasy, there are no definitive answers - after
all, the Pink Lady is a ghost.
Clover Adams is a lingering resident at The Hay-Adams Hotel
in Washington, D.C., Clover's husband, Henry Adams, was in the
final stages of building his side-by-side mansion on Lafayette
Square (adjoining John Hay's property - which is now the location
of the hotel) when Clover took her life in 1885. While some
whisper that it was murder, no one will ever know all of the
facts surrounding the mysterious event. Clover did suffer bouts
of depression and had recently lost her father.
Today, hotel staff report that the fourth floor of the Hay-Adams
is Clover's favorite place. They agree that she is most active
the first two weeks in December - coinciding with the anniversary
of her reported suicide on the fourth floor of the home that
Henry and Clover were renting, next door to their new house
which was under construction. Examples of staff experiences
include unexplained opening and closing of locked doors of unoccupied
rooms; clock radios mysteriously turning off and on; the sounds
of a woman crying softly in a room or a stairwell; or a voice
of a woman asking a housekeeper, "what do you want?"
when the room appears totally empty. Some housekeepers have
been called by name and others have received a hug while cleaning
The Victorian 1886
Crescent Hotel and Spa in Eureka Springs, Ark., hosts a wide
variety of spirits. In the hotel's Crystal Dining Room, many
employees have encountered playful spirits in Victorian dress.
One holiday season while the dining room was closed, the grand
Christmas tree and packages underneath moved from one end of
the room to the other. The next morning employees found the
tree and packages moved with chairs circling and facing the
newly placed holiday symbol. Another time, employees returned
in the morning to find the dining room in perfect order except
for menus scattered throughout the room. Yet another time, a
waitress looked into the huge mirror between the doors from
the dining room to the kitchen and saw a man and woman in Victorian
garb facing each other as in a wedding. The groom turned and
made eye contact with the waitress and then the couple faded
away. The waitress quit her position shortly after this incident.
Another common encounter is a man in Victorian clothing sitting
at a table near the windows saying "I saw the most beautiful
woman here last night and I am waiting for her to return."
Many have recounted seeing apparitions in Victorian ball attire
dancing around the room during the wee hours of the morning
while the room was closed and dark. The Crescent Hotel has so
many ghostly tales to tell that tours are held at the hotel
throughout the year.
The Mendocino Hotel & Garden Suites in Mendocino, Calif.,
opened in 1878 as the Temperance House and was a sanctuary in
a lively logging town of saloons and pool halls. The hotel's
history did not always remain so pristine. For a number of years,
the hotel was a bordello. The aura of this era can still be
felt in the hotel. A Victorian woman haunts tables 6 and 8 in
the restaurant, where she appears in the mirror. She is known
to visit guestrooms and to be playful with the housekeepers.
In 1995, a bartender at The Tutwiler in Birmingham, Ala., was
responsible for turning everything off in the restaurant and
kitchen at the end of the day. Since it was past midnight, he
was the only person on duty. He began by turning off the lights
in the bar, then the restaurant and then he would go downstairs
to turn off the stoves and the kitchen lights. He clocked out
but noticed lights were on again in the bar, as well as in the
restaurant and, in the kitchen, the lights and stoves were on.
He then turned everything off again. The process was repeated
four times before the bartender finally left.
The next day, the hotel general manager wanted to know why everything
was left on. The bartender explained what happened. The scenario
repeated itself for five nights and each following day the bartender
got in trouble. On the sixth day, the general manager called
the bartender at home and told him to come to the hotel immediately.
He could not believe his eyes. Someone had cooked a multi-course
meal with candles, had drawn the curtains and took a very old
bottle of wine out of a locked cabinet. For years, rumors spoke
of the spirit of Colonel Tutwiler, a local businessman, roaming
the halls of the hotel. The bartender resolved the situation.
Every night, the bartender would say, "good night colonel,
please leave the lights and stoves off and don't make a mess."
Considering its location, one might imagine that the Furnace
Creek Inn in Death Valley National Park, Calif., might be haunted
by wayward '49ers, prospectors who became lost in the region.
However, the only "haunting" taking place in this
historic inn is by a friendly phantom, the spirit of Chef James
Marquez. From 1959 until 1973, Chef Marquez worked at the Furnace
Creek Inn. Illness forced his resignation in 1973, just three
years before he died. Since then, doors at the inn, particularly
in the kitchen and dining room, have mysteriously opened and
closed on quiet mornings with no wind for miles. Employees have
reported hearing noises from the dining room in the middle of
the nights, and, legend has it that the kitchen has been mysteriously
rearranged. Could it be that from time to time, the spirit of
Chef Marquez returns to his happy hideaway in Death Valley?
Located on scenic Lake George, it is no wonder past guests keep
wanting to return to the beauty of The Sagamore in Bolton Landing,
N.Y. The Trillium, the resort's fine dining restaurant, is regularly
visited by the image of a couple who were among the hotel's
first guests in the 1880s. They descend from the second floor
and take a seat in the restaurant's reception room before departing.
Mr. Brown's, another of the resort's dining outlets, was visited
by an apparition of a tall woman dressed in long, white evening
attire with flowing sandy blond hair. She spoke to a prep cook,
then proceeded to walk toward him, then through him and disappeared.
The cook packed his things, quit his job and never returned
to the resort.
The phone at the front desk of the Paso Robles Inn in San Luis
Obispo, Calif., seems to receive mysterious calls from Room
1007 on a regular basis. At first, the inn's management wrote
the calls off to a glitch in the phone system. Mike Childs,
head of maintenance at the inn, even went to the room to inspect
the phone line. While standing in the room, he witnessed the
phone light up and call the front desk. When he tried calling
the desk himself, the phone, which has two lines, cut him off
and called the front desk on the second line. The spirit took
matters into its own hands one night and placed a call to 911.
When police arrived, they found the room unoccupied. General
Manager Paul Wallace attributes the call to a story in a 1940
newspaper article. On December 19, 1940, night clerk J.H. Emsley
discovered a fire on the second floor of the hotel. Emsley rushed
downstairs, sounded the alarm and then died of a heart attack
on the spot. Thanks to Emsley's action, all of the hotel's guests
were evacuated, but Wallace thinks the ghostly clerk doesn't
A few years ago, The Brown Palace Hotel in Denver embarked on
an extensive refurbishment of its top two floors. From 1937
to 1986, permanent guests lived in the twenty apartments on
these floors. Coincidentally, during the renovation, Julia Kanellos,
the hotel's historian, conducted a series of historical tours
highlighting the stories of some of those permanent residents.
One tale was about Mrs. Louise Crawford Hill who ruled Denver
society and lived in room 904 for fifteen years (1940-1955).
Soon after the stories about her life and heartbreak over a
lost love were recounted on the tours, the hotel's main switchboard
began receiving calls from room 904. When the hotel operator
answered, there was nothing but static on the line. This was
a great mystery because the room was stripped of furniture,
lights, wallpaper, carpet and telephones due to the renovation.
Kanellos eliminated Mrs. Hill's saga from the tour and the telephone
calls from room 904 ceased.
River lore recounts that Mary B. "Ma" Greene, the
woman who co-founded The Delta Queen Steamboat Co. in 1890,
was a fierce temperance-backer as well as one of the first female
licensed river pilots. She forbade the sale of liquor aboard
the family vessels. Following her death in 1949, a saloon was
installed aboard the Delta Queen. Just after the first cocktail
was sold, a barge smacked into the boat and shattered the bar.
Crew members dislodged the barge and gasped as they read its
name: Captain Mary B. The intruding tug had been named for the
famous lady pilot.
Rosario Resort on Orcas Island in the San Juan Islands, Wash.,
was built in 1909 as a private residence. In 1932, Donald Rheem,
a California industrialist, purchased the home. Rheem's wife,
Alice, created a stir among curious Orcas Islanders. Mrs. Rheem's
flamboyant lifestyle included unusual appearances in the village
of Eastsound wearing a flaming red nightgown, playing a few
hands of cards with the "local boys" at the general
store and hopping back on her Harley-Davidson motorcycle to
return home. Through the years, employees and guests staying
at the mansion have reported bizarre incidents, seen strange
shapes and heard the mysterious footsteps of a woman walking
in high heels. Perhaps, Mrs. Rheem is continuing her eccentric
lifestyle at the mansion.
Charles Pfister, founder of The Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee,
still visits to ensure that his guests are well taken care of
at his century-old "Grand Hotel of the West." A "visitor"
has been spotted surveying the lobby from the grand staircase,
strolling the minstrel's gallery above the ballroom, and passing
through the ninth floor storage area. He is always described
in roughly the same terms: "older," "portly,"
"smiling," and "well-dressed." Upon seeing
a portrait of Pfister, witnesses swore that it was the man they
had seen. If this visitor is Charles Pfister, then he is a most
welcome guest indeed.
Guests at Georgia's Jekyll Island Club Hotel in Jekyll Island,
Ga., have been surprised to find their coffee sipped and morning
paper read. It certainly isn't due to a lack of service or hospitality.
Each morning at this exclusive hunt club, Samuel Spencer, president
of the Southern Railroad Company, insisted the Wall Street Journal
be delivered to his room. For years, it was his ritual to drink
a cup of coffee while scanning the paper. In 1906, he was killed
instantly in a train accident. For years, club members and hotel
guests who occupied Spencer's room, have found copies of their
newspaper disturbed, moved or folded in their absence. Coffee
cups have been mysteriously poured or "sipped on"
when guests returned from the shower or a brief outing.
In 1651, the Monastery of Our Lady Carmen of San Jose was inaugurated.
Better known as the Carmelite Convent, the building had been
the former home of a noblewoman, Doña Ana de Lansos y
Menendez de Valdez, who lost her husband in a battle with the
After his death, Doña Ana chose to devote herself to
God and donated her home, its adjoining land and all her possessions
to have a convent erected on the site where she lived with her
beloved. Doña Ana was the first to enter the cloister
and became Mother Superior.
Today the site is home to Hotel El Convento in the heart of
Old San Juan, Puerto Rico. The hotel is visited by the spirits
of Doña Ana and her cloister, as they walk the halls
in silent prayer, just the swish of their robes making any sound
at all and kicking up just the slightest of breezes in the night.
It appears that the resident ghost at the Carolina Inn in Chapel
Hill, N.C. is fixated on a particular guestroom. Dr. William
P. Jacocks, a physician with the International Health Division
of the Rockefeller Foundation, retired to Chapel Hill and lived
at the inn from 1948 until his death in 1965. A kind and gentle
man, he had a fun-loving sense of humor and seems to enjoy teasing
guests who stay in his room on the third floor by locking them
out occasionally. Last fall, a couple returned to the room to
find that their electronic keys wouldn't work. Hotel maintenance
workers, unable to unlock the door, had to climb a ladder and
crawl through the window. Once, the room's door had to be taken
off its hinges because it could not be unlocked.
Escaping the heat of Washington, D.C., Mary Todd Lincoln and
her children spent two summers at The Equinox in Manchester
Village, Vt. The family planned to return the summer of 1865,
but plans changed following the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.
The family's ties to the area continued and strengthened with
son Robert Todd Lincoln's purchase of neighboring estate Hildene.
Employees at the hotel report seeing images on the third floor
of a woman and a child that are consistent with descriptions
of Mary Todd Lincoln and one of her sons. Perhaps through their
visits they are trying to recapture the carefree days of those
The Renaissance Mayflower Hotel in Washington, D.C. hosted its
first Inaugural Ball, honoring Calvin Coolidge, on March 4,
1925, just two weeks after the hotel opened. Mourning his sixteen-year-old
son's tragic death from blood poisoning, the president did not
attend the ball.
In 1937, Inauguration Day was changed to January 20. The hotel
has since experienced unusual occurrences on January 20. In
the Grand Ballroom, the lights seem to dim and flicker around
10:00 p.m. It was at this hour that the fanfare announced the
guests of honor at President Coolidge's Inaugural Ball. The
electrical circuits have been checked by experts who can find
nothing wrong. Hotel staff have reported finding a plate of
exquisite hors d'oeuvres along with a glass of fine wine left
in the Grand Ballroom balcony. Strangely, neither item was served
at any function on that day. One elevator refuses to move from
the eighth floor to the lobby level until 10:15 p.m. This is
the approximate time the President would have arrived from his
holding room to the ball.
Knowing that he missed his Inaugural Ball at the Renaissance
Mayflower, perhaps "Silent Cal" Coolidge is making
up for that historical evening and attending, in spirit, each
New Orleans is a city full of mystery. Hotel Maison de Ville
and the Audubon Cottages are no exception. Jewel France, a 23-year
employee of the hotel, was the first to encounter "the
soldier." Some 20 years ago, she opened the door to Cottage
No. 4, allowing a guest to enter first. "Anyone ever tell
you this place is haunted?" asked the guest. France looked
in and saw a man dressed in a military uniform in the room.
She felt a chill and shook a bit and the vision disappeared.
"I've never liked Cottage No. 4 since then," comments
France. The hotel plays classical music in the rooms as guest
arrive. France reports that the soldier doesn't like classical
music on the radio. "As soon as I leave, the ghost changes
the radio to loud country music," says France. "I'll
go back and reset the radio but when I leave again, it changes
General Lloyd Aspinwall, a founding member of the Jekyll Island
Club in Jekyll Island, Ga., was to be its first president. However,
he died unexpectedly on September 4, 1886, more than a year
before the club would officially open. Letters dated from later
years, reveal that certain members had seen the general, hands
clasped behind him in military manner, walking the Riverfront
Veranda about dusk...on September 4th. Today, that area of the
veranda is a sunroom that, interestingly enough, bears the name,
the Aspinwall Room.
PAST LIFE EXPERIENCES
In the 1930s, The Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Ark., became
an experimental cancer hospital. "Dr." Norman Baker,
claiming to be a licensed physician, examined cancer patients
in the hotel's basement while charging unsuspecting families
their life savings. Several apparitions from the hospital visit
the hotel today. "Dr. Baker" has been seen in the
hotel lobby. He is described as a man in a purple shirt and
white linen suit matching photographs of the infamous entrepreneur.
"A nurse pushing a gurney" residing in Dr. Baker's
old morgue area is known to squeak and rattle down the halls
of the hotel. A hotel maintenance man witnessed all the washers
and dryers mysteriously turn on the middle of the night. The
laundry room is located next to Dr. Baker's old morgue which
still contains his autopsy table and walk-in freezer. Housekeepers
report meeting "Theodora" in room 419. She introduces
herself as a cancer patient of Dr. Baker's and vanishes after
courtesies are verbally exchanged. Ghost tours are conducted
throughout the year at the hotel by trained clairvoyants.
MORE TALES OF THE UNEXPLAINED
Located on Lake George, The Sagamore in Bolton Landing, N.Y.,
offers golfers the challenge of a Donald Ross, par 70 golf course.
Today guests may see the spirit of a little boy from the early
1950s on the golf course or near the Club Grill. The boy was
known to chase errant golf balls to sell back to the pro shop
but was hit by a car while chasing balls and died.
The Hawthorne Hotel in Salem, Mass., is surrounded by historic
buildings, many of them built by the Salem sea captains who
founded the Salem Marine Society in 1766. The society's building
was razed for the construction of the Hawthorne Hotel in the
1920s. Some wonder if the spirits of these dynamic seafarers
still return to the site they knew so well. Employees and guests
alike have witnessed the large ship's wheel, used in the nautical
décor of the Main Brace Restaurant, turning back and
forth as though following a ghostly course even though no one
was near. Those who stopped the wheel found that it immediately
resumed its motion. At least one houseman working in the Lower
Deck meeting room has refused to work nights after several instances
in which his room setups were rearranged the opposite direction.
It is said that after the skeleton frame of The Crescent Hotel
and Spa in Eureka Springs, Ark., had been constructed in the
1880s that one of the Irish stone masons plunged to his death
in what is now room 218. This room proves to be the most spiritually
active room in the hotel and has attracted television film crews
for decades because of the quantity and quality of the sightings
reported. Throughout the history of the hotel, employees have
referred to this entity at "Michael," a classified
poltergeist due to the nature of the unexplained activity. Guests
have witnessed hands coming out of the bathroom mirror, cries
of a falling man in the ceiling, the door opening then slamming
shut, unable to be opened again. The intrigue of this activity
had drawn guests to specifically request room 218 for the chance
of experiencing something.
At the The Brown Palace, a night-duty engineer encountered a
spirit in an old-fashioned train conductor's uniform. The apparition
slowly disappeared through the wall of the hotel's former railroad
ticket office. Today, a United Airlines ticket office occupies
Opened in 1933 near the end of the Prohibition era, it is believed
that The Georgian Hotel in Santa Monica, Calif., was a place
where patrons could enjoy spirits-the alcoholic kind. Today,
the hotel's Speakeasy restaurant has been the location of other
kinds of spirits. Early one morning, Chief Engineer Ignacio
Choza was repairing a pipe in the Speakeasy. A visitor, who
could not be seen, sat down next to Ignacio and let out a large
sigh as he made himself comfortable. Ignacio asked the entity
if he was going to speak and the ghost left the area. Another
time, Ignacio could see transparent guests in the room. As Ignacio
approached, the guests dissipated. Houseman Domingo Pardo also
has unexplained experiences in the Speakeasy. The restaurant
was empty but someone repeatedly said "good morning"
to him. This continued until Domingo responded back with the
same greeting. On a separate occasion, Domingo heard someone
enter the Speakeasy as a running pace. No one was visible, but
Domingo heard the spirit run by him and out a set of locked
Steeped in legends, Colonial Williamsburg is the restored 18th
century capital of Virginia and boasts enough ghost stories
to send a chill up the spine. Steve Erickson, general manager
of the Williamsburg Colonial Housesrelays hotel guests' encounters.
One guest stayed in the Orrell House (circa 1810) reporting
the water was mysteriously turned on in the downstairs bathroom,
a glass broken and the upstairs bathroom was wrapped in toilet
paper like a Halloween night prank. A Brick House Tavern (circa
1760) guest reported the tramping sound of boots up the steps,
through the front door, into her room then out through the gabled
A GHOST HUNT - PARANORMAL SLEUTHS DETECT SUSPICIOUS SIGHTS AND
A team of professional ghost hunters has detected some curious
goings-on at The Carolina Inn in Chapel Hill, N.C., where, for
years, a ghost has been suspected of playing tricks on guests.
In 2002, paranormal phenomena researchers set up super-sensitive
microphones, digital cameras, infrared video cameras and electromagnetic
sensors in three guest rooms.
Over a four-hour period, the equipment captured the sounds of
footsteps in an empty and secured room; an orb-like object moving
through the air in one of the rooms; the faint sound of notes
from a piano (there were no pianos nearby nor one being played
in the inn a the time); and a few softly spoken words including
what sounds like "hey" and "might have won."
Who might this ghost be? It is suspected to be Dr. William Jacocks,
who lived at the inn from 1948 until his death in 1965. Jacocks
liked riddles and jokes, and, over the years, his ghost seems
to have enjoyed teasing guests buy locking them out of the second-floor
room where he lived.
The findings can be viewed at www.hauntednc.com.
Widely known for boisterous Bourbon Street and the merriment
of Mardi Gras, New Orleans is also home to a special mix of
spirituality and superstition. Le Pavillon, a New Orleans landmark
that dates to 1907, hired a paranormal research team to study
the otherworldly visitors at the hotel. The group of psychics,
parapsychologists and paranormal investigators identified the
overwhelming aura of a frightened and confused teenaged girl.
They believe that she lived during the 1840s and is possibly
named Eva, Ava or Ada. It appears that she was preparing to
embark on a ship when she was struck by a carriage and died
from the resulting internal injuries. Their report also indicates
the presence of a young aristocratic couple from the 1920s and
a dark-suited man from the same era who is reputed to play pranks
on the hotel cleaning crew.
Historic Hotels of America is a program of the National Trust
for Historic Preservation. HHA has identified 200 hotels that
have faithfully maintained their historic integrity, architecture
and ambience. To be selected for this prestigious program, a
hotel must be at least 50 years old, listed in or eligible for
the National Register of Historic Places or recognized as having
historic significance. A directory of member hotels can be purchased
for $4.00 by sending a check to Historic Hotels of America,
P.O. Box 320, Washington, D.C. 20055-0320. Rooms at any of the
member hotels can be reserved by calling 800-678-8946. Reservations
made through Historic Hotels of America support the National
Trust, a non-profit organization of 200,000 members that provides
leadership, education and advocacy to save America's diverse
historic places and revitalize our communities.