Hawaiian shirt and play on an artificial beach. Anyone who lives in Michigan knows that by March, we’re ready for a little “sun and sand,” even if we have to create it ourselves.
I could have used some sun and sand myself, on the cold, snowy winter day I chose to return to Camp Ticonderoga, on my hunt for more stories about Hannah. I went in for lunch and got a quiet table overlooking the golf course. And it was just my luck—I got the one waitress who was even more skeptical than I am about the paranormal. I told her about the book I was writing and asked her about Hannah. Her response was an almost apologetic confession: “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
I asked her if she would mind explaining why she felt that way. “I’m not out to prove or disprove anything,” I promised. “I’m just gathering peoples’ stories. It might make a good balance to hear from someone who doesn’t believe this place is haunted.”
“It’s an old building,” my waitress reminded me. “So if the lights flicker I figure it’s just the wiring. The elevators are old too, so if the doors open and shut unexpectedly, it’s just a mechanical thing. I’ve never felt creeped out anywhere in the restaurant. People are always making something out of nothing, you know?”
Fair enough, but I still hoped to talk to someone about Hannah—after all, I had already met several people who were convinced she still haunted Camp Ti. My server was happy to help out by introducing me to the manager on duty. The restaurant was starting to get a little busy by then, so I exchanged business cards with the manager and arranged to come back another time. I was put in touch with assistant manager, Christy Hardy, who, I was told, had been at Camp Ti for about ten years and was something of an expert when it came to Hannah. She had also had a few personal experiences with Hannah—and apparently some other ghosts as well.
Christy met me the following Sunday afternoon—she was very sweet and quite happy to give me a few minutes of her time. After getting us each a glass of soda, she settled us at a quiet table near the second bar, toward the back of the restaurant so we could talk. I explained my book and asked her what she could tell me about Camp Ticonderoga’s ghosts.
“When I first started here, I remember walking up the stairs to the second floor and seeing a man sitting at a table, near the staircase. I thought it was a little odd, as no one was supposed to be up there; that part of the dining room was closed. He was dressed kind of funny too, in a vintage suit, like something you’d have seen a hundred years ago, and he was wearing a top hat. And then suddenly, he was gone.” She explained that she was a little freaked out, but then another manager said she had seen the same man sitting there on a different occasion. “We had another manager quit, after just a couple of days,” she added. “I don’t know why, but …” she shrugged, leaving it open-ended.
The man in the top hat wasn’t the only ghost the staff has reported seeing—or experiencing in other ways.
Christy told me about a server who had napkin-wrapped silverware roll right off the table upstairs. “She didn’t think too much of it at first, she just picked it up and put a clean roll in its place. That rolled off the table too. It happened twice more, really freaking her out. There are several people who won’t go upstairs by themselves.”
Christy went on, “Some people claim to have been touched, but when they turn to see who’s there, there isn’t anyone nearby. And a lot of people have experienced cold spots upstairs. It’s like you’ll be walking along and suddenly get freezing cold for no reason.” She also said that several people, both guests and staff, have reported hearing footsteps on the staircase leading up to the second floor. “But when they turn around, there’s no one there. People hear children’s voices too. And we have a ghost cat,” she added, telling me how numerous people have reported hearing it meowing, especially when there aren’t many customers around and the restaurant is quiet.
“One day I heard it and I was so sure it was a real cat that had gotten stuck up in the attic, I asked one of the cooks to go check it out. When he came down, he said that there was no cat. There wasn’t any evidence that any kind of animal had gotten in recently, either.”
I had to admit, it seemed like there was an awful lot of seemingly supernatural activity at Camp Ticonderoga. It was little wonder the place had been investigated by so many paranormal investigators.
Christy explained to me that she’s not really afraid of the ghosts, but sometimes locking up alone at night is a little nerve-wracking. She said she preferred to turn the lights off in the back first and then make her way toward the front door, so that the last lights to go off are the ones nearest the doors. She also repeated the story I’d heard before about how sometimes doors around the restaurant seem to open and shut by themselves. “One night it happened to me after closing, and I kept calling ‘who’s there?’ but no one answered. No one was here.”
There was another night, Christy told me, when she locked up and headed toward her car in the parking lot. She chanced to turn around and glance back at the building and swore that she saw a pair of blue glowing eyes watching her in the window. “Those windows there, behind the bar,” she told me, pointing to the windows behind the main bar area. She didn’t go back in to investigate. I wasn’t sure I blamed her; I doubt I would have gone back in, either.
CHAPTER 4
Baldwin Theatre
ROYAL OAK
LIVING PRACTICALLY WITHIN WALKING distance of the Baldwin Theatre, I decided to take a chance and dropped in unannounced, even though it was close to Christmas. I knew there was a good chance I might not get to actually talk to anyone that day—but it was a good excuse to walk around downtown Royal Oak and get some last-minute shopping done.
I arrived at the Baldwin during regular box office hours and was greeted by Vonnie Miller. As soon as I explained the reason for my visit, she invited me into the office to talk. Unfortunately, she was the only person in just then and couldn’t actually show me around, but Vonnie confirmed that the theater was “very haunted.” She added that the Baldwin has been in a couple of books and has hosted several “haunted” events, where the audience is presented with the theater’s history, along with its ghost stories.
I’d already read several newspaper articles about the Baldwin’s ghosts and knew that the theater was a favorite stop on Halloween “ghost tours,” as well as a favorite stop for paranormal investigators. There have been numerous pictures of orbs taken on both stages, as well as EVP (electronic voice phenomena) recordings of strange voices, and reports of sharp drops in temperature throughout the theater. It seems that when ghosts are around, the ambient temperature drops significantly. These so-called “cold spots” are a good indication of paranormal activity—after you’ve ruled out all of the logical explanations, like open doors or drafty windows.
Vonnie told me whom I really needed to talk to was Development Director Lesley Branden-Phillips. Lesley was off for the Christmas holiday, but Vonnie gave me her card and suggested I call the following week to set up an appointment.
I took advantage of the bright, mild afternoon to get some shots of the exterior of the building before heading off to do some Christmas shopping. Royal Oak is a hub for the arts community in Oakland County and has been one of my favorite places to visit since I was a teenager. Summer is my favorite time to be there, when the streets are crowded with pedestrians, making it a great time to people-watch. No matter what time of year it is, though, there’s always something fun and interesting happening in Royal Oak.
In March, classical-music lovers can enjoy the Baroque Music Festival,
