April Slaughter (11 page)
Authors: Ghosthunting Texas
Tags: #Supernatural, #Body; Mind & Spirit, #Travel, #Ghosts - Texas, #General, #United States, #Texas, #Ghosts, #West South Central (AR; LA; OK; TX), #South
It seems the most common phenomenon within the theatre is the sighting of several apparitions, by both patrons and theatre employees alike. A young man dressed to the hilt in a military uniform is often seen lighting and smoking a cigarette near the entrance to the balcony. Smoking is not permitted anywhere in the theatre, and when individuals have approached the soldier to kindly ask him to extinguish his cigarette, he quickly disappears before they reach him. The smell of cigarette smoke lingers in the air long after the soldier vanishes, as if he continues to smoke but has decided it is best to do so unseen.
I spoke with one former employee of the theatre who asked to remain anonymous. He admitted that he avoided going into the basement area because he felt immediately uneasy and unwelcome as soon as he entered.
“I don’t get spooked very easily,” he said. “But that basement was not a fun place to be. It always felt like someone was right on my heels the entire time I was down there. I never saw anything, but I could have sworn I heard something like a dog growling a couple of times—like how a really hostile animal would sound.”
Paranormal investigators have frequently visited the Plaza Theatre hoping to catch the reported activity on tape. While some of them report that nothing out of the ordinary has occurred during their time there, others will tell you that the building is one of the most active they have investigated to date.
Researching the paranormal can often require a great deal
of patience. I know from experience that ghosts and spirits do not always make themselves known on our time table. In my opinion, making repeat visits to a location, even at varying times of the day or night, can often verify legitimate activity, or debunk it all together. Unless you are dealing with a residual type of phenomenon, you really cannot predict when something paranormal is about to occur. Most of the time, it is all up to luck.
of patience. I know from experience that ghosts and spirits do not always make themselves known on our time table. In my opinion, making repeat visits to a location, even at varying times of the day or night, can often verify legitimate activity, or debunk it all together. Unless you are dealing with a residual type of phenomenon, you really cannot predict when something paranormal is about to occur. Most of the time, it is all up to luck.
I know people are often disappointed when they expect a lot to happen and they end up with little or no results on their first try. Don’t give up! Just as we the living have the ability to govern our actions, so do the dead. Establishing trust can often be a big part of the equation!
Those eager to witness a paranormal event can sometimes resort to provocation to try and “stir up” activity. I’ve seen these methods work, but I have also seen them backfire. Provoking anything in a negative or combative tone is not likely to elicit a positive response, and you may not be aptly prepared for the reaction you might receive. In my experience, you attract the energy you put out. The paranormal does not need to be frightening, though a good scare isn’t always a bad thing either! The element of surprise is what attracts us all.
Our lives are so busy that I think a lot of the activity around us goes largely unnoticed until we take the time to slow down and focus on it. Have you ever thought you saw someone out of the corner of your eye, only to turn and realize that nobody was there? What about those nights you’ve heard your name called out just before you fell asleep? Oftentimes, we chalk these things up to our imaginations and convince ourselves it is all in our heads. What if it isn’t?
The ghostly apparitions witnessed within the walls of the Plaza Theatre were not seen when someone was looking for them. Instead, they chose to show themselves to ordinary people
just going about their business or treating themselves to a little entertainment. Who they are and why they are tied to the theatre itself is largely unknown, but as with most every major theatre, the staff of the Plaza honor their resident spirits by leaving their own ghost light lit on stage after every performance.
just going about their business or treating themselves to a little entertainment. Who they are and why they are tied to the theatre itself is largely unknown, but as with most every major theatre, the staff of the Plaza honor their resident spirits by leaving their own ghost light lit on stage after every performance.
Spotlight on Ghosts: El Muerto—The Headless Hor eman of West Texas
We’re all familiar with the legend of Sleepy Hollow and the terrifying headless horseman who stalked the local community in the story, but did you know that T xas has a headless horseman of its own? The legend of El Muerto, or the “Dead One,” stretches back to the days of cattle rustlers and outlaws, dirt trails and cowboy fights. While some believe him to be merely a product of myth, there are those who claim he might have actually existed.
In 1850, one of the most famous of all Texas Rangers—Bigfoot Wallace—allegedly captured a Mexican outlaw simply known as Vidal, who had been raiding ranches and stealing cattle and horses. Texas Rangers had long been working to keep the incidents of theft at a minimum, but outlaws continued to sweep across the south. Rangers had done everything they could to send a clear message to other outlaws that the thievery would not be tolerated, but their efforts had been largely unsuccessful.
Bigfoot Wallace reportedly executed Vidal upon his capture, tied his decapitated head and sombrero to the saddle horn of a wild mustang, secured his body in the animal’s saddle, and sent the horse out to roam the plains. Cowboys began to see the horse and its unfortunate rider aimlessly riding through the hills and became so afraid that they shot at it with their guns. Over time, El Muerto became an omen of bad things to come and was credited in stories of the misfortunes of others. Once the horse had been cornered in present-day Uvalde, Texas, the body of the one-time rustler was finally laid to rest. This, however, would not be the last time El Muerto was seen. Stories began to spread like wildfire that he was still riding in the hills and among the ranches he had once stolen from.
The legend of the headless horseman of Texas is still alive and well today, as many ranchers and travelers throughout west Texas have reported seeing the ghostly apparition on clear and moonlit evenings; a large and foreboding presence, seemingly destined to an eternity of riding headless through the plains on a wild mustang.
CHAPTER 13
Gage Hotel MARATHON
Gage Hotel exterior
ONE OF THE THINGS I LOVE most about my husband is his willingness to just pick up and go with me to random places I want to visit. It is not at all uncommon for me to discover information online about some obscure place in Texas, and ask Allen on a whim to take me there; not tomorrow, not next week, but right that second. I am blessed to have a husband who enjoys going on little adventures, especially paranormal ones.
Marathon, Texas, is not exactly a major tourist destination. It is far removed from the big sprawling metropolises like Dallas, Houston, and Austin. It is nestled in the wide open frontier of west Texas, near the north entrance of the Big Bend National Park.
“Honey, I want you to take me to Marathon,” I said to Allen.
“You want to run a marathon? Since when?” he teased me.
“I want to see the Gage Hotel,” I said. “I hear they have a fantastic restaurant.”
“It’s a little far to travel to Marathon just for a meal, hon.”
“They have ghosts, Allen.”
“When are we leaving?” he asked.
Within an hour or so after that conversation, Allen and I were in the car and on our way from Dallas to west Texas. I knew that the hotel had a restaurant in-house, as I had perused the menu online just a day or so before. Luckily, we had an entire weekend to make the trek out and enjoy ourselves. The drive was nearly nine hours each way, so heading to the Gage Hotel for dinner after work one night during the week was definitely not an option.
After we had been on the road for a few hours, the scenery became bleak, so I thought I would read a little more about the Gage Hotel online. Thanks to our modern-day ability to access information on-the-go, I was quickly able to locate the hotel’s website on my cell phone.
Businessman Alfred Gage moved from Vermont to Texas in 1927 and acquired 500,000 acres to operate a ranch. The Gage Hotel was originally built as headquarters for the ranch, but Mr. Gage was only able to enjoy it for one year before his death in 1928.
J.P. Bryan and his wife Mary Jon purchased the building in 1978 for $30,000 and spent nearly twenty years pouring their time and money into making the Gage Hotel the beautiful reality it is today.
The closer we got to Marathon, the more desolate things began to look. I’ve been through some pretty sparse-looking terrain before, but west Texas definitely takes the cake. I grew up in Utah where there were all sorts of places to roam around and discover, including deserts and such, but I am much more of a mountain girl. I like hills and trees, lakes and rivers; all of those things seemed fairly far off in the distance out here.
We reached Marathon at about 5:00 P.M. that evening, and we drove around a bit to get a feel for the area. I chuckled when
I saw a tumbleweed dance across the street. It felt genuinely “old west” to me.
I saw a tumbleweed dance across the street. It felt genuinely “old west” to me.
“Want to move to west Texas?” asked Allen.
I shot him a look, and without having said a word he knew what I was thinking.
“We’ll stay put, then,” he said.
“I don’t mind visiting. In fact, I think it’s quite fun to find places like this,” I said. “Life gets so busy and we’re always so wrapped up in technology and whatnot. Out here, that stuff isn’t so important. It’s kind of nice to be somewhere that doesn’t make you feel so rushed.”
“So, can we leave your phone in the car when we go in for dinner?” he asked.
“What? Are you crazy? No.”
A big grin stretched across his face, as if he’d made a point in asking about the phone. I suppose he had, but I did my best to ignore it.
We pulled up to the Gage Hotel and I was instantly taken with the place. The landscaping was pristine, and I particularly enjoyed the letters spelling out the name of the hotel on the roof of the building. We walked inside, and I approached a lady working at the front desk.
“Are you here to check in?” she asked.
“No, actually, we’re just here to have dinner,” I said. “But would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions about the hotel first?”
“Please do. What can I help you with?”
“I’ve done a lot of reading up on the Gage Hotel lately, and a lot of people claim the hotel is haunted. Is that true?” I asked.
“We have a couple of friendly ghosts here, yes,” she replied.
An older gentleman had overheard my conversation with the woman at the desk and tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me ma’am, I just thought I would tell you that I
know there are ghosts in this hotel,” he said.
know there are ghosts in this hotel,” he said.
I introduced myself and shook the gentleman’s hand. I didn’t think to ask his name (which I regret now), but I remember thinking to myself that he looked an awful lot like my late grandfather. He was chewing on a toothpick, which is something my grandfather always did. He asked me if I had a minute to hear his story, which I most certainly did.
“My wife and I come to drive through Big Bend every year, and we stay at least one night every time,” he continued. “One evening, my wife excused herself to the lady’s room just after we had checked in, and as I was opening my overnight bag on the bed, I realized I had left my wallet at the front desk.
“When I came back to the room, my wife was just coming out of the restroom and everything that had been in my overnight bag was neatly stacked outside of it on the bed. I asked my wife if she had unpacked the bag, but she hadn’t come out from the restroom until I came back from retrieving my wallet.”
“Do you remember what room you were in?” I asked.
“No, that was several years ago. Not sure which one of them it was now,” he replied.
“Did anything else odd occur that night?”
“Yes. My wife and I go to bed fairly early, so we were already asleep by nine o’clock or so that night. At just after two in the morning, I woke up thinking I heard someone’s radio going off in another room because I heard someone softly singing. I sat up in bed, and nudged my wife.”
The gentleman told me that he and his wife sat for several minutes and listened to someone signing. The strange thing was, they realized it was not coming from a radio, rather from somewhere in their own room! The voice was muffled, and they didn’t understand the words or know the song, but he said that he and his wife were not able to fall asleep again for quite some time after that incident.
The gentleman’s wife approached him and indicated it was time for them to leave. I thanked him for taking the time to tell me his story, and bid him and his wife a good evening.
Just as the restaurant opened at six o’clock, Allen and I were seated for dinner in the hotel’s Café Cenizo. Allen enjoyed the Bison Rib Eye and I the Sautéed Shrimp. While the meal was not inexpensive, it was certainly delicious and well worth the drive all on its own to experience.
The drive back home was a long one, and we didn’t get in until nearly three o’clock the next morning, but we had enjoyed our impromptu trip to the historic Gage Hotel. When we finally rolled out of bed at close to noon, I went right to my computer with my mandatory cup of coffee to look up more of the ghostly lore associated with the hotel.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I exchanged e-mails with various hotel staff about the paranormal activity they have experienced. None of them wished to be named, but they offered several stories of encounters with the unknown inside the hotel.
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