The Big Book of Texas Ghost Stories

Author

Introduction

W hy is there a need for The Big Book of Texas Ghost Stories? The most obvious reason is the immense size of the state of Texas, which covers 268,820 square miles. The largest state in the contiguous United States, Texas is 10 percent larger than France. Size alone, however, does not account for the vast number of tales of ghosts found in the Lone Star State. As a rule, it seems that the oldest inhabited areas in the world are also the most haunted. Long before Spanish explorers visited Texas in the sixteenth century, Indians were living in the region between the Rio Grande and Red River. But the ghost lore of Texas reflects the influence of not only its earliest Native American inhabitants, but also the Europeans and African Americans who came later. The state's turbulent history may be most responsible for the plethora of Texas ghost tales. Outbreaks of violence between various groups of residents, from the Indians and the European setters to the events at the Alamo to more recent incidents between whites and African Americans, have produced an impressive body of yarns that still send shivers up the spine. The men and women who died on the plains, in railroad hotels, in Victorian mansions, and on college campuses will never be forgotten because they all played a role in Texas's statehood, and many are believed to haunt the Lone Star State to this day.

The immense state of Texas may seems like a country in itself, but it is also a microcosm of the entire United States. Like the New Englanders of the eighteenth century, Texans had to fight for their independence from a despotic country. The Texans of folklore are tough, resilient, and determined. The cowboy, with his restless spirit and fierce independence, has come to embody the very soul of Texans and, in the eyes of the rest of the world, to represent all Americans. In the larger-than-life figures that populate the supernatural yarns in this book, we may catch a reflection of ourselves.

Austin

Metz Elementary School

Originally built in East Austin in 1915, Metz Elementary School became so dilapidated over the years that the school district eventually declared it unsafe for students. During the old building's demolition in 1990, it seemed that at least one odd incident occurred every day. Bulldozers stopped working as soon as they rumbled near the old brick building. Tools disappeared. Workmen fell off ladders and complained that something had started shaking the ladders once they were halfway up. Ghost Stories of Texas, by Jo-Anne Christenson, includes an account by Joe Torres, the owner of the trucking and excavation company working at the site. Torres said that he and his workmen heard the sounds of childish laughter in bathroom stalls and fingernails scratching on blackboards in supposedly empty classrooms. Most of the men refused to enter the crumbling old building by themselves. Equipment mysteriously stopped working, and a truck carrying replacement parts broke down en route to the old school. The demolition process was so plagued with bizarre occurrences that Torres had trouble keeping his workers from quitting.

The workmen soon concluded that something otherworldly was impeding their progress. Torres responded to their concerns by bringing in a Catholic lay evangelist named Elias Limon to conduct an exorcism inside the school. The priest walked through the old building, sprinkling holy water and blessing the rooms of the building. But any hopes the workers might have had that things would settle down after the priest left were extinguished just a few days later when a wall collapsed, killing one of the construction company workers. By the time the old building was completely demolished, six months behind schedule, approximately half of Torres's workers had quit.

The new Metz Elementary School was completed in 1992. However, teachers and students still report seeing and hearing child ghosts at the new school. Joe Torres has his own postscript to the story of the haunted elementary school. After he transplanted a small tree from the property where the old school once stood to the front yard of his daughter's home, many people have since claimed they heard the voices of children coming from the tree.

Mount Bonnell

Located in Covert Park, Mount Bonnell has been one of Austin's favorite tourist spots since 1850. At 785 feet, it is the highest point within the city's limits. People still enjoy hiking and picnicking here, just as they have been doing for more than a century and a half. After climbing the stone steps, visitors can rest inside the pavilion and take in the panoramic views of the lakes, hills, and city. A plaque in the parking lot relates the history of Mount Bonnell, but one must turn to oral history to get the full story.

The site's romantic aura has spawned at least two legends about forlorn lovers. It is said that a young Spanish woman named Antoinette, who was engaged to be married, was taken captive by a Comanche chief. The chief fell in love with her, but Antoinette's fiancé sneaked into the Comanche camp along the Colorado River and made off with his beloved. The couple fled to the top of the mountain, but the Indians caught up with them and killed Antoinette's fiancé. As his body lay riddled with arrows on the mountaintop, Antoinette kissed his forehead and then leaped to her death. Her tragic story gave the mountain one of its nicknames, Antoinette's Leap. In a variant of the tale, a woman named Golden Nell and her husband, Beau, both jumped to their death from the peak just before they were apprehended by a band of Indians.

Another legend has it that a young man had a secret love affair with an Indian girl. When her father, a Comanche chief, learned of his daughter's affair with a white man, he tracked the pair to their rendezvous point on top of the mountain. In a fit of rage, he murdered his daughter before she had a chance to plead for her life. Sensing that the end was near, her lover plunged to his death from a cliff. A variant of this tale seems to have been influenced by Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. In this version, a young brave and an Indian maiden from warring tribes were ordered by their parents to end their romance. Unable to face the prospect of life without each other, the couple climbed the mountain, walked over to a rock outcropping, held hands, and jumped.

Not surprisingly, as with other lovers’ leaps across the country, the legends have led to claims of otherworldly sightings. For years, people who were atop Mount Bonnell at dusk have reported seeing misty shapes standing along the cliffs.

The Eanes-Marshall Ranch

What today is known as the Eanes-Marshall Ranch was originally built in 1857 by Alexander Eanes. He eventually sold it to his brother, Robert, who built the ranch house and a log cabin to house the local school. In 1883, Robert turned the ranch over to his son-in-law, Hudson Boatner Marshall, who dismantled the ranch house and relocated it next to nearby Barton Creek. Eventually the surrounding community was named after the Eanes family. Today the ranch's neighbors include housing developments, a shopping center, and a school. But even though the Eanes-Marshall Ranch is no longer situated in a wild, isolated region, it still retains elements of its ghostly past.

The best-known ghost story connected with the property concerns a teamster who was driving his wagon down a lonely road late one night not far from the ranch house in the late nineteenth century. He had gone to town and delivered a load of hay to a livery stable. He then loaded his wagon with dry goods he had just purchased from Berryman's Grocery and Provisions and started on his return trip. The wagon was within a few yards of the Eanes Ranch when the man noticed a large rock in the middle of the road. Sensing that something was wrong, he removed his shotgun from the back of the wagon and looked around. He heard nothing out of the ordinary, so he climbed down from the wagon and removed the rock. Just as he was about to climb back into his wagon, he heard the crack of a tree branch. He turned around and raised his shotgun, but the man was gunned down before he could pull the trigger. The gunfire panicked the horses, which raced down the road with the driverless wagon. Three bandits emerged from their hiding place and walked toward the lifeless body lying in the middle of the road. Angry because the wagon was gone, the bandits contented themselves with removing their victim's wallet and returned to town. Alerted by the shotgun blast, the Eanes family awoke from their slumber and walked down the road, where they found the driver's corpse. Mr. Eanes buried the man in an unmarked grave and returned home. Because the man's wallet had been stolen, no one was ever able to identify him. According to Jeanine Plumber in Haunted Austin, the murder was considered to be just a legend until 1991, when Westlake police searching for the remains of slaughtered deer left behind by poachers found what appeared to be a sunken grave. They began digging and were surprised to find the bones of a man killed around one hundred years before.

After the property was abandoned, teenagers from Austin would drive out to the Eanes-Marshall Ranch in the hope of catching sight of a phantom wagon. People have reported hearing the rumbling of the wagon and pounding of the horses’ hooves. Descendants of the Marshall family returned to the ranch in the 1960s. They built a new house and restored the old ranch house. One night in the late 1960s, the Marshalls’ teenage son and several of his friends decided to spend the night by the Eanes Road where the teamster had been murdered. They had just unrolled their sleeping bags when they heard the creaking of a wagon and the snorting of horses. The ghostly wagon seemed to be heading in their direction. Terrified, the boys ran back to the Marshalls’ home.

Other ghosts have been sighted on the old Eanes Road as well. An old man walking down the road with a hound dog has made a number of appearances. He is usually seen wearing a worn cowboy hat and has been sighted both in the afternoon and at night. A few people say they have seen a woman's ghost walking down the road. It has been speculated that she is the wife of the murdered man.

In 1966, a group of five parapsychologists visited the Eanes-Marshall Ranch in an effort to uncover the identity of the murdered man. One member of the group was a psychic, who channeled the spirit of the murder victim during a séance. Using automatic writing, he penned the name Burns. That same year, a newspaper reporter looking through microfilm newspaper articles in the local library found an article from 1871 chronicling the murder of a man named Barnes. Whoever the man is, he apparently has become a restless spirit who likely will continue haunting the old road until his murderers are brought to justice.

Buffalo Billiards

Across the street from the Driskill Hotel at 201 E. Sixth Street is one of Austin's most colorful nightspots. Built in 1861 by the Ziller family and originally called the Missouri House, the building was Austin's first boardinghouse. It was also said to have housed a brothel, where many a cowboy whooped it up after spending weeks on the dusty trail herding cattle. In 1999, it became Buffalo Billiards and was named the nation's best new pool hall by Billiards Digest.

According to Austin Ghost Tours, Buffalo Billiards is haunted by a ghost the employees call Fred. Fred seems to favor the Lodge, the bar area's second floor. The mischievous spirit makes his presence known by wobbling a bar stool. People have stopped the stool from shaking, only to find that one of the other bar stools has started wobbling. Occasionally a glass of beer that belongs to no one—at least, to no visible patron—appears on the bar. One bartender was in the habit of pouring a glass of beer at the beginning of his shift and leaving it on the bar to make Fred happy. Like many playful ghosts, Fred seems to enjoy moving objects around. One manager who arrives early in the morning often finds pool cues lying on the bar and pool balls sitting on tables.

The full-bodied apparition of a female has also been sighted inside Buffalo Billiards. One night, a barmaid and her coworker were walking up the back stairway to the second floor. When they turned around, both of them clearly saw the image of a woman in a white dress standing against a window. She appeared to be glaring at them. The two were so frightened that they ran down the stairs. As they were walking to their cars, they noticed the same woman staring out the window, watching them leave.

Buffalo Billiards is advertised as one of the last places in Austin where the spirit of the Wild West is still alive and well. Customers may find that the spirits of some of the building's former occupants also are alive and well at Buffalo Billiards.

The Inn at Pearl Street

The Inn at Pearl Street is located in Austin's Judges Hill neighborhood, which includes a number of historic buildings. Many of those buildings were once the homes of judges and lawyers. Today the inn consists of four buildings, one of which is a Greek Revival home built in 1896. In 1914, it became the private home of Judge Charles A. Wilcox and his family. Charles Wilcox was held in such high esteem in Austin that after he died, official buildings closed in his honor.

By the early 1980s, the old house had fallen into disrepair. In 1993, Jill Bickford, a contractor, purchased the run-down historic home with the intention of transforming it into a bed-and-breakfast. Jill and her father restored the house to its turn-of-the-century appearance, and in 1995, she opened it up as a B&B. Period antiques and collectibles afford guests a window to a more genteel era in Austin's history. The occasional appearance of a female spirit also makes the past come alive.

The first claims that the Inn at Pearl Street might be haunted were made by a carpenter who helped Jill bring the old house back to life in 1993. While he was working in the hallway, he said, he glimpsed a woman carry a small child from one room to the next. A few days later, he walked into a room and saw a woman in a rocking chair holding a child in her lap.

Jill also had her own encounter with the ghost that haunts the inn. During the restoration process, she arrived at the house one day and was surprised to see a light in one of the upper windows. Not only was the house supposed to be empty, but the electricity was not turned on. Jill walked around the back of the house, but by the time she reached the backdoor, the light in the window was gone.

One of the employees at the inn was a seventeen-year-old high school student named Jessica, whose mother worked there as a maid According to Jessica, one day her mother was working in the sitting room by the breakfast bar area on the first floor when she heard music coming from one of the upstairs rooms. As she walked up the stairs, she heard someone moving around on the second floor. She thought that Jill was working up there, so she said, Jill, do you need anything? She had no sooner finished talking than the music stopped and she realized she was all alone.

In 2011, a couple of Jessica's male friends were staying in the French Room on the second floor. The next morning, they asked her how many guests were staying in the inn the night before. You were the only ones here last night, Jessica told them. One of the young men said, Seriously, how many people were here last night? Jessica responded, No one. You were all alone. What made you think there were other people here? In the middle of the night, her friend said, they had heard what sounded like a lot of partying going on in the sitting room, with people talking and laughing. They could also hear people go up the stairs, get some ice from the container at the top, and walk back down.

Although the old Wilcox home has been brought into the twenty-first century with cable television and other modern amenities, the intermittent paranormal activity is a shocking reminder that in some old buildings, it seems that the past refuses to stay dead.

The Driskill Hotel

During the Civil War, Col. Jesse Driskill accrued a fortune selling cattle to the Confederate army. By the 1880s, the cattle baron began making plans to build his dream hotel and purchased a large plot of land at the corner of Sixth and Brazos Streets in downtown Austin. Construction of a sixty-room Romanesque luxury hotel was completed in 1886 at a cost of $400,000. Two weeks after its grand opening, the hotel hosted an inaugural ball for Gov. Sul Ross. However, the cost of spending a night was so high that few people could afford to stay there, and Driskill was forced to close the hotel after losing much of his staff to another hotel. Legend has it that Driskill eventually lost the hotel in a card game.

By 1895, the Driskill Hotel had had five different owners. Throughout the twentieth century, the old hotel became the hub of Austin's social scene. Election watch gatherings, inaugural balls, and an untold number of weddings were held here. President Lyndon Baines Johnson reportedly had his first date with his future bride, Lady Bird, in the Driskill's dining room in 1934. Decades later, in November 1960, he and John F. Kennedy awaited the election results at the hotel. Again in 1964, he was at the Driskill the night of the presidential election. The Driskill had become run-down though. By the end of that decade it faced demolition, but a community effort raised enough money to save the hotel. It has remained open ever since. In the 1990s, a new owner restored the old hotel to its former grandeur.

Austin is a city with a lively nightlife, and according to local lore, even some of the long-departed guests and employees of the Driskill Hotel find it difficult to lie still all night long. The first reported paranormal activity at the Driskill was that of the playful spirit of a four-year-old girl. As the story goes, one day in 1887, a senator's little daughter was chasing a ball inside the hotel when she fell down the grand staircase. A week after her death, guests and hotel staff heard her giggling spirit bouncing a ball in the first-floor lobby, the second-floor ladies’ restroom, and the staircase leading to the mezzanine. Cold spots have also been reported on the staircase. In the late 2000s, a woman walking through the mezzanine noticed that one of the six rocking chairs lining the wall was rocking on its own. No breeze was blowing through the hotel at the time.

One of the most active ghosts in the old hotel is thought to be the spirit of Jesse Driskill, the hotel's original owner, whose portrait still hangs in the grand lobby. People usually know when he is around when they detect the scent of cigar smoke in unoccupied rooms. His mischievous spirit has been blamed for turning lights off and on in the guest rooms. And some say that death has not snuffed out his passion for the ladies. In March 1991, the alternative rock band Concrete Blonde was staying at the hotel while acting as the backup group for Sting. The band's lead singer, Johnette Napolitano, said she was taking a shower when she saw a disembodied face staring at her. That night, she was awakened by all the lights in her room turning on and off. In desperation, she unplugged all the lamps, but a few minutes later the closet door opened and the light inside came on. Johnette sat up in bed and addressed the spirit directly: I know you're here, but I know that you're not going to hurt me, so I'm going to sleep now. She went back to sleep and was not disturbed for the remainder of the night. A few months later, she wrote about her ghostly experience in a song titled Ghost of a Texas Ladies’ Man. Unbeknownst to Johnette, a female member of Sting's band who was also staying at the Driskill felt something tickle her toes while she was trying to sleep. When she turned on the lights, she saw a shadowy figure dart under the bed.

Another singer who reported having a paranormal experience at the hotel was Annie Lennox of the Eurythmics. In the early 1980s, while staying at the Driskill, she laid two dresses on the bed in her room shortly before she was scheduled to perform and went to take a shower. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was shocked to find only one of the two dresses lying on the bed. The other had been neatly hung up in her closet. Chills crept up her spine when she realized that she was the only one with a key to the room.

Another apparently overly dedicated person who worked at the hotel was a desk clerk known only as Miss Bridges, employed here during the early 1900s. She did not die at the hotel, but her deep attachment to the Driskill seems to have brought her back. Her specter, wearing a Victorian-era dress, is usually sighted at night around where the front desk used to stand. She apparently is in the process of arranging the flowers on the spectral desk, as guests and staff have reported detecting the strong odor of flowers when she appeared.

My wife, Marilyn, and I had our own paranormal experience at the hotel not long ago. On August 10, 2011, we were present when the spirit of one of the early employees of the hotel may have made an appearance. We had just finished a ghost tour, on which a guide told us about the spirits believed to be haunting the Driskill Hotel. Several of those who had taken the tour with us were photographing the Driskill's ornate lobby. One lady, named Sunshine, and a friend of hers were looking at the pictures on Sunshine's camera when they noticed something highly unusual. Their excitement prompted the rest of us to gather around. In the background of a picture Sunshine had taken of her friend and the woman's young son, we could see the semitransparent figure of a woman dressed in a dark brown, nineteenth-century maid's dress. No living person had been standing behind the woman and her son when the photograph was taken.

Several rooms are said to be ideal places to encounter ghosts in the hotel. One is Room 29, where a woman now known as the Houston Bride once stayed. As the story goes, in 1989, a socialite who had been jilted by her fiancé on her wedding day stole his car and credit cards and drove from Houston to Austin. She checked into Room 427 of the Driskill and went on a shopping spree in some of Austin's finest stores. She returned to her room laden with shopping bags, one of which contained a pistol she had just purchased. The last time anyone saw her alive, she was standing in front of the door, trying to hold her bags and open the door at the same time. When she finally got the door open, she set down the bags, removed the pistol, and loaded it. She then grabbed a pillow and lay down in the bathtub. She placed the pillow on her stomach, pressed the barrel of the pistol against the pillow, and shot herself. The pillow muffled the report of the gun, and her body was not discovered for three days. Ever since that fateful day, people have reported seeing her ghost walking the hallways, wearing a wedding gown and carrying a gun in her hand. Sometimes people have seen her apparition out of the corner of the eye, but when they turned their heads for a better look, no one was there. Staff have also heard weeping and the sound of a woman talking on the fourth floor.

In 1999, ten years after the suicide of the Houston Bride, two women checked into the 1930s section of the hotel. At 1 A.M., they decided to take a stroll through one of the old sections of the hotel that was being renovated at the time. They were headed south on the fourth floor when they saw a woman holding several shopping bags struggling with her room key. One of them asked her if she minded all the construction noise. The woman gave the pair a cold, piercing stare and replied, No. The next morning, they told the manager about their strange encounter. He said that no one was staying there and escorted them up the stairs to the room where they had seen the woman. When he unlocked the door, the women saw that the room had no toilet and no bed. They left convinced that they had had a brush with the other side the night before.

People have also had bizarre experiences in the Maximilian Room, which was named after the emperor of Mexico, even though he never stayed at the hotel. The room's name is derived from the eight ornate mirrors hanging from the walls: Maximilian ordered the mirrors from Austria as gifts for his wife, Carlotta. After her death in 1927, the mirrors ended up in a warehouse in New Orleans, where they were discovered in the 1930s. The Driskill bought the mirrors and hung them in the former men's smoking room, which was converted into a dining room and named for the late emperor. Guests have reported looking into the mirrors and seeing the figure of a woman standing where their reflection should have appeared. In addition, some people have felt a hand touching their shoulder.

Room 419 is said to be haunted by the spirit of Peter J. Lawless, who lived in the Driskill Hotel from 1886 to 1916. Lawless made his living selling tickets for the railroad and stayed at the Driskill even during periods when it was closed. Housecleaning staff have vacuumed the floor of this room, only to find fresh footprints on the carpeting just before they leave the room. Guests who have checked into the room have found dresser drawers open and bedcovers ruffled. The ghost of Peter Lawless has been sighted standing near the elevators on the fifth floor. Witnesses claim that when the elevator doors open, he checks his pocket watch before vanishing completely.

The area of the Driskill Hotel with the most paranormal activity is believed to be Room 525, which is said to be haunted by the ghosts of the suicide brides. One of these brides was scheduled to be married at the Driskill Hotel, but her fiancé called off the wedding the night before. The despondent young woman hanged herself in the bathroom in Room 525. Her specter is often sighted by guests at weddings or bachelorette parties. As a rule, her appearance is considered to be a good omen. Twenty years after the first suicide, another bride killed herself in the bathroom of this same room. Soon after her death, the hotel staff blocked off the bathroom area, and eventually the entire room was closed off. When the Driskill was renovated in 1998, Room 525 was reopened.

Today the Driskill Hotel is the pride of Austin. Its level of luxury and service ensures that every guest's stay is a memorable one. Occasionally, the ghosts that float along the hallways and nestle in its guest rooms and suites also do their part to make a guest's stay there unforgettable.

The Omni Austin Hotel

The Omni Austin Hotel is known for its amenities and its luxurious furnishings. Guests whose interests lie within the realm of the paranormal will find the hotel's signature ghost story to be another plus.