[Calif. news] Where interaction with the paranormal is, well, normal
MrPepper11
October 29, 2004
Seen a Ghost?
At some Inland locations, interaction with the paranormal is, well,
normal
By PAT O'BRIEN / The Press-Enterprise
Venture into this story if you are bold
For here are tales to make blood run cold
Ghostly whispers to stand hair on end
Things that go bump in the night, my friend
While Halloween conjures up haunted houses tricked out with
make-believe ghosts and ghouls, there are other houses where the
spirits might possibly be the real deal. And they couldn't care less
what time of year it is.
George, a bookkeeper, met a mysterious end. He seems to intend to
spend eternity at the Captain's Anchorage, a Big Bear Lake restaurant
known for prime rib and cocktails. The dimly lit, wood-paneled
restaurant is not a bad choice for a ghostly hangout.
When manager Sue Battiste came to work there 10 years ago, she didn't
believe in ghosts.
"I certainly believe in ours," she said now.
According to Battiste, the restaurant, built in 1947 as the
Sportsman's Tavern, offered illegal gambling and "ladies of the
night." Actor Andy Devine took over the tavern in the 1950s and kept
it until 1966. The story handed down is that "George" (nobody is sure
if that is his real name) cooked the books, as well as engaging in
other tomfoolery, and is believed to have killed himself or been
murdered in the upstairs office.
Battiste once found a calculator running figures by itself. A door
opened for her as she approached it. A television turned on when no
one else was in the building.
Bartender Lorraine Little has worked at the restaurant 26 years. Like
Battiste, she didn't believe the stories when she arrived.
"All of us that have been here a long time have been poked, tapped,
touched, hair yanked," she said. "My ponytail was yanked hard,
actually jerked, and there was no one around. You pretty much become a
believer when it happens to you."
Beer bottles have flown off her back bar, clearing the shelf lip and
landing on a rubber mat. Four times. One bottle of Crown Royal
imploded.
"It blew up. It sounded like a rifle shot. There's no heat source up
there. It's very thick glass," she said, not understanding how it
could happen.
She had, however, just been telling a ghost story at a customer's
request.
Just a few weeks ago, another employee, Lynn Towe, saw a man in a
derby hat walk toward the swinging kitchen door. Then he vaporized.
And people have been spooked by a door that suddenly rattles in its
jamb, even though it's sealed shut. It was where gambling machines
were hidden during raids.
Ghosts of Citrus Past
Heritage House on Magnolia Avenue in Riverside, which is listed in the
National Register of Historic Places, was owned by one of the Inland
social arbiters of the late 19th century, according to Vince Moses,
director of the Riverside Municipal Museum.
The Queen Anne-style Victorian was completed in 1892 for Catherine
Bettner, widow of James who was president of the Riverside Fruit
Company. The house gleams with carved oak woodwork and a gold-leaf
parlor.
But Mrs. Bettner became confined to a wheelchair, and when she died
the house sat deserted for a decade, shrouded by overgrown foliage.
During restoration, there were reports of doors opening or locking
themselves.
German Ponce Jr., who has been the museum maintenance worker at the
house for 24 years, says he can't explain some odd happenings.
"I hear the doorknob moving at 2 or 3 in the morning," he said. "I
remember putting the broom on the back porch, and I found it on the
other side of the porch."
Then there are the footsteps on the stairs.
"Not real heavy. Like people trying to tip-toe," he described.
He's seen shadows like someone creeping up. But no one is there. Some
docents hear shards of conversation in empty rooms.
Although Moses never noticed anything unusual at Heritage House, he
said he had a peculiar experience when giving a lecture about another
grand dame. Eliza Tibbets, a pioneer in the citrus industry, was a
serious spiritualist with roots in the original All Souls Universalist
Society.
"Eliza was known for conducting séances," Moses was saying to an
audience at the Universalist Unitarian Church in Riverside when
suddenly the double doors swung open and a cold breeze swept in.
"I said, 'That's the last time I will make light of that story,' " he
said.
Lost Girls
In Lake Arrowhead, people can spend the night in a hotel haunted by a
little girl, or in a bed-and-breakfast where Violet, a hapless young
woman, seems wedded to her former brothel.
"Our hotel was built in 1917 by two sisters. It was originally called
The Raven," said Diane Hill, general manager of Saddleback Inn.
"Hannah was a niece of theirs and she came to live with them. She was
about 12 years old when she died of pneumonia."
Hannah is believed to haunt the main inn and Cottage 33, which was the
home of her aunts. Lights turn on by themselves. Footsteps are heard
when no one is around.
"This is a weird one - in Cottage 33, we've had people tell us the TV
is turned on - to cartoons," Hill said.
Three employees have heard a child laughing on the second floor of the
main building.
"We don't put children in the main inn. It's double occupancy adults
only," Hill said.
One night, after all employees except one had left the inn's
restaurant, another incident occurred. At closing, bar stools are set
up on the brass footrest and the floor is mopped. But the dishwasher
found the stools three feet from the bar.
"No one was here," Hill said.
Bracken Fern Manor in Lake Arrowhead was on a haunted hotel special on
the Discovery Channel with tales of footsteps in empty halls, knocking
on doors that open to no one, disappearing objects, whispers when no
one is around and old-fashioned floral perfume wafting in the air.
"I've heard things. I've smelled things," said owner Cheryl Weaver. So
do her guests and employees. "We don't know everything there is to
know about the universe, so I keep an open mind."
She puts notebooks in bedrooms so people can jot down experiences.
Three rooms seem very "active," according to Weaver. The house had
belonged to mobsters and was a bordello.
"The story goes that the girls used to hide in the attic. We found old
gin bottles, medicine bottles, newspapers, letters and photographs up
there," Weaver said.
As for Violet, she killed herself. She thought her mobster boyfriend
deserted her, but he had been murdered, according to Weaver.
"Violet roams the halls in a long white gown waiting for him to come
back," Weaver said.