Ghosthunting Kentucky. Patti Starr

      ONE OF THE MOST FREQUENTLY ASKED questions I get about ghosthunting in Kentucky is, “Have you ever investigated Bobby Mackey’s place in Wilder, Kentucky?” Of all the sites that I have investigated, none can compare to the history of death, murder, and human sacrifice that is recorded at this locale. Over the years Bobby Mackey’s Music World has become known as one of the most sinister and haunted spots in America. Its reputation for being inhabited by tormented entities derived from the bizarre history that surrounds the area. For about 120 years, this place has evolved from owner to owner with a history that includes murders, suicides, demonic rituals, and slaughtered animals.

      I called one of my ghosthunter graduates, Susan Rushing, who lives within a few miles of Wilder, to ask her if she could help me get into Bobby Mackey’s place for a ghost investigation and to interview some of the employees. Susan, a devoted ghosthunter herself, graciously offered to make arrangements but held me hostage to my promise that she would be able to join us on the ghost investigation. She has a knack for accomplishing anything once she sets her mind to it. Susan, with her wit and charm, had no problems securing an appointment for our team to investigate this haunted Mecca.

      We also invited Cynthia Spicer, another one of my graduates, to go with us on the investigation. Even though Cynthia is a single mom raising two little girls, she still found time to work a ghosthunt. The three of us—Cynthia, Chuck, and I—headed out early in the day to meet Susan in Wilder before heading out for Bobby’s by 3:00 P.M. We came close to canceling our trip to Wilder. A few days before we were scheduled to leave, Kentucky was hit by one of the most destructive ice storms since 2003. The roads were cleared, but the walkways and parking lots were still heavily covered in ice and snow. When we arrived in Wilder and got out of the car we had to hold on to each other for stability as we started on the icy path to the front door of Bobby Mackey’s. Before we had gotten too far, Bobby Mackey’s PR/marketing manager, R.J., joined us. He was bundled in his thick, red coat, black hat, and plaid scarf in an attempt to ward off the bitter cold. He was worried that one of us might fall, so after a quick picture-taking session in front of our car, we headed for the inside of the building. R.J. loved the vanity license plate on our car, which sported the word “Ghosts,” and made sure to get a picture of it for their Web site.

      As I entered the main doors of the famous honky-tonk, I felt the energy crawl up my back and shoulders, as if I was being greeted by invisible creatures of the unknown. I later explained that eerie feeling to another one of my graduates, J.C. Harris, and he told me about the time he did an investigation at Mackey’s a few months before me. He also had the same creepy feeling, which prompted him to raise his camera for quick snapshots of the entrance straight ahead. He captured an interesting mist accompanied by a faint purple spirit orb as he walked down the foyer.

      Before continuing into the building, I looked to the right and saw a warning sign on the wall that stated the place was haunted, and, by entering at your own risk, the club would not be responsible if you were attacked by unseen forces. I thought it was a great marketing gimmick, but R.J. told me that someone tried to sue Bobby because they claimed they had been attacked by a ghost. The case was dismissed, but the management thought it would be best to warn others about the possible dangers.

      R.J. shared with us some of the history of Mackey’s as we proceeded into the belly of this haunted icon. Since the 1800s the building has sheltered many personalities, and some of them were not so good. R.J. said that for over forty years the building served as an animal slaughterhouse where the blood of the animals would drain into a well under the basement that flowed out to the nearby Licking River. Some people believed that satanic worshippers performed sacrificial rites on the property.

      Several different clubs and lounges have occupied the space. After the slaughterhouse closed, it was not until the 1930s that another company opened for business. During the years that clubs and bars were in operation, there were numerous fights, attacks, and killings that surrounded the Primrose Country Club, the Latin Quarters, the Blue Grass Inn, and the Hard Rock Café. It was Bobby’s intention to change all of that by bringing in a better type of entertainment when he opened Bobby Mackey’s Music World in 1978.

      R.J. told us that Bobby gave up the chance to record songs in Nashville to put all his time and money into his new country music bar. Bobby was already a well-known country singer in Kentucky with several popular albums to his credit and was looking forward to having his own place to perform.

      As I was standing near the dimly lit bar listening to R.J. recount the past, I noticed a rather husky fellow wearing a dark hoody. He walked over to join us. He was Matt Coates, the building supervisor, but he sure looked more like a bouncer to me. I thought to myself, if there were any ghosts or demons haunting this place surely they would think twice before taking him on. I turned back to R.J. to ask him more questions, and he assured me that I would probably get a better account of the hauntings by talking to Matt. He had been with Bobby Mackey for five years and was there during most of the ghost investigations that had been performed at the club. I figured now was the best time to grab my digital audio recorder to chronicle his accounts of suspicious ghostly activity.

      “So, Matt,” I asked, “tell me about what you have witnessed here at Bobby Mackey’s.” Without hesitating Matt said, “One night while I was standing over by the mechanical bull, I saw a man sitting at one of the tables across the other side of the room. I started to walk over to see who he was and noticed that he was dressed like someone from the 1800s. As I approached him, he stood up, and even though it was dark, I could see that he had a mustache. He then turned and walked to the back door where he vanished.” “What did you do next?” I said. “I packed up my tools and went home.” “Did you ever see him again?” “Yes,” Matt admitted, “but I guess I’ve gotten used to him, and I don’t pay him any mind anymore.”

      I asked him if he had any idea of who the man might be, and he said he might be Scott Jackson or Alonzo Walling. He told me the story of these two dental students from Cincinnati who were part of an occult group called the Seven Hooded Ghost Men in the late 1800s. They would secretly meet in the abandoned slaughterhouse and perform rituals where they would sacrifice animals and mentally retarded children. They also killed Scott’s girlfriend, Pearl Bryan, who was five months pregnant at the time, and after severing her head, they threw it down the well during a satanic ritual. They were both tried and found guilty of her murder and were hanged for this heinous crime. I gestured to my team, who were checking out the mechanical bull area for possible evidence, to go into the basement. We would proceed with the interview there.

      The basement was huge, with many rooms to choose from, but our interest was in the room that contained the foreboding well. This supposed portal led into the depths of hell, where so many body parts had been banished during satanic rituals. Susan and Cynthia stopped immediately as we entered the room. I was already in the room when I heard Susan remark, “Wow!” I spun around to see what was the matter. Both women said they saw a thick mist, almost like a veil, before them, surrounding the room. Matt said that he, too, had seen this same phenomena many times, although at this particular time neither he nor I saw it. After Susan and Cynthia stepped into the room to join Matt and me, the mist vanished.

      Matt pointed out a small room off to the side that he called the jail room. He said

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