I’ve known my fair share of people who were paranormal activity buffs. I’ve known people who go on ghost tours and take them seriously. And frankly, I don’t really believe in ghosts, but ghost stories have freaked me out on a few past occasions.
Anyone remember the ghost episode of the old “Unsolved Mysteries” show with Robert Stack? It was creepy enough from the start, with reports about ghosts wandering around on the docked luxury liner the Queen Mary – complete with sinister music, and actors who stood perfectly still as they portrayed the ghosts. This was followed by what was almost a real-life imitation of the movie “Poltergeist,” wherein
Allen and Debbie Tallman of Horicon, Wisconsin, were terrorized by horrible, violent ghosts after buying a used bunk bed. Apparitions were showing up in their young son’s bedroom, illusory flames were shooting out of their garage. It reached the point where the family abandoned the house. And once again, the whole thing was reenacted with horror movie dramatic flair.
I was about 10 years old when I saw that episode of “Unsolved Mysteries,” and for months afterward, I panicked that our house, one of the oldest bungalows on the block, might be haunted. It got so bad that while sitting at a long table at a Thai restaurant on one occasion, everyone at the table had to say to me in unison, "'Unsolved Mysteries' is not true!"
Yeah, but like I said, I don’t really believe in ghosts. There are, however, some interesting stories out there, besides the ones that Ed mentioned – Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery, Hull House and Resurrection Mary.
• The
Music Box Theatre is proud of its friendly ghost. As the theatre says on its own Web site, a man who went by the name of “Whitey” was the manager there from opening night in 1929 until Nov. 24, 1977, when he fell asleep on a lobby couch after closing the theatre and never woke up.
“Whitey is a tireless protector of The Music Box Theatre,” the Music Box says on its Web site. “He helps solve problems and has been known to express his opinion of a bad organist by causing the drapery to drop in both organ chambers simultaneously.”
Frankly, it’s kind of sad that he never lived to see his theatre turn into the world-class arthouse that lifted up the entire Southport Avenue corridor back in the 1980s.
• Freaky things have been going on for many years at the
Adobo Grill, on Wells Street right next to the Second City. Strange footsteps and sounds coming from empty rooms, strange lights and shadowy figures were all reported. And the Web site linked above says back when the restaurant was known as That Steak Joynt, owner Raudell Perez even saw two people walk up the stairs and disappear into thin air.
This is a little more sinister than the Music Box Theatre’s ghost. The ghosts are purportedly linked to two people who were murdered in Piper’s Alley, once an actual alley off of Wells Street where the mall and movie theater of the same name are now located.
•
The Red Lion Pub on Lincoln Avenue, which closed recently, is purportedly home to many ghosts too. The frame building that housed the pub dates from 1882, and about seven male and female ghosts who appear as a scruffy-looking cowboy, two men who died in a fight, and a woman dressed in the garb of the 1920s, have all purportedly appeared to people.
•
Ole St. Andrews Inn, a bar at 5938 N. Broadway in Edgewater, purportedly has a ghost named Frank Giff, who either fell off a bar stool or suddenly croaked in a pub booth. Now he hangs around to help the living run the place, and may or may not touch women’s knees. That’s a little politically incorrect these days, but you can’t very easily eject a ghost from your bar.
• Years ago, someone even told me a friendly old ghost lurked in our former headquarters on McClurg Court. I don’t remember many of the details about the purported ghost, but I do remember having dreams that ghosts flew around above the false ceiling metal-bar in our old newsroom – which had a high studio ceiling. But were there ghosts? We’ll never know now. Grand old 630 North isn’t there anymore to investigate further.
And I still don’t really believe in ghosts. But there are a few places I’ve been in my life that gave off, well, let’s say a vibe. Even if the paranormal experts haven't claimed there are ghosts in these places, it's easy to imagine exactly what kind of ghosts might haunt them. Some now demolished, others are still standing and worth a visit.
•
The old Sears store on Lawrence Avenue. Dating from 1925, it’s one of the two oldest Sears stores (the other is on 79th Street). More than any other place I can think of, the interior is frozen in a different era, down to the entry doors, the escalators and the fire sprinklers. It’s not hard to imagine that men in fedoras or women in housedresses and with their hair bouffant might appear out of nowhere when you’re least expecting it. The vibe is intensified by the fact that as a teenager in the 1970s, my family doctor ran into
John Wayne Gacy in this Sears. Check the place out if you've never been there.
•
Moody's Pub, on Broadway down the street from the aforementioned Ole St. Andrew's. Moody's is dimly lit with dark paneled walls inside to the point where it feels almost gothic, and the smell of the grills and the deep fryer right behind the bar suggest a carnival midway. One can almost imagine a mysterious barker from a Riverview sideshow appearing at the next bar stool over. (And speaking of which, who's to guess how many ghosts might lurk around the strip mall, police station and DeVry campus where the storied Riverview Park once stood?)
•
The old municipal parking garage across LaSalle Street from City Hall. It was torn down several years ago, but when I was a youngster, my mom often parked in the garage when we went to pick up my dad at work. The garage had a clunky cage elevator which transported your car to higher levels. It always looked menacing and sounded dangerous. And there was a vibe that suggested maybe ghosts of past elevator attendants or others who had wandered through the garage were lurking.
•
The Burton-Judson dormitory at the University of Chicago. I resided in this stone fortress next to the U of C law school for three of my four undergrad years, and there were always things clinking and clanking in the night. Most of it was the old steam-heating system, but sometimes it was hard not to wonder. And one time, I woke up and screamed as I thought I saw a bespectacled figure with a sinister grin half-reclining on the floor in front of my bed. It turned out to be a wrinkled pair of pants… or did it? Could it have been the ghost of a disaffected, socially awkward U of C student who spent his lifetime in search of the world's most elegant mathematic proof?
•
The Rainbo Roller Rink, formerly on Clark Street just north of Lawrence Avenue. The Rainbo went through a laundry list of incarnations, from big-band venue to ballroom and later to the Kinetic Playground live music venue in the 1960s. But I only ever knew it as a roller rink, and a fairly seedy one. Other youthful patrons would give you a hard time if you didn’t roller skate well. Fights broke out often. But that wasn’t what gave it a paranormal vibe. There were also bricked-over doorways everywhere. And most infamously, when the building was torn down about six years ago, demolition crews found a skeleton with gym shoes among the rubble. I think we need to call Peter Venkman and Egon Spengler over.
There were no ghosts on our set this morning, but there were some strange and wonderful designs on pumpkins, including one of Mancow Muller and of none other than Don Scwhenneker. Master pumpkin carver Steve Dahlke was in our studios. Not Garry Meierke. Just Steve Dahlke.
More About Steve Dahlke Pumpkin Stencils Holiday InflatablesAnd have you ever wondered what you'd look like if your high school yearbook pictures had actually been flattering, and you weren't dressed like a total nerd with hair that looked like roaches might crawl out of it? Well, Don found this application to make yourself one of the beautiful people. Check out
YearbookYourself.com
