Armory on Washington Boulevard was pressed into service as a temporary morgue. The bodies of the victims were transported there to await identification by next of kin. The bodies were laid out in rows of eighty-five. It took several heart-rending days for all of them to be finally identified and claimed.
Today, the original armory building is incorporated into Harpo Studios, which produces the Oprah Winfrey Show. It is said that the ghosts of the Eastland victims are not at peace in the building. According to Chicago ghosthunter Dale Kaczmarek, one common apparition is the Lady in Gray, the shadowy figure of a woman in a long, flowing dress and ornate hat who is seen drifting through the halls. Supposedly, her image has even been captured on the building’s security monitors. In addition to the Lady in Gray, studio employees and security guards have reported hearing crying, the laughter of children, and old-time music. The footsteps of crowds of invisible people are heard going up and down the lobby staircase, accompanied by opening and slamming doors.
Another location that ghosts of the Eastland are rumored to haunt is Excalibur, a nightclub housed in the Romanesque-style brick building originally constructed for the Chicago Historical Society in 1892. Some people think that Eastland victims were also brought to the Historical Society, as well as the armory, although Dale Kaczmarek could find no evidence of that taking place. Still, something strange is going on at Excalibur. The events were first noticed in 1985, when a previous nightclub, Limelight, opened in the building. Glasses would fall over and break without anyone being near them and other objects would fall over as well. The balls on the pool table would roll around apparently of their own volition, as if some unseen pool players were enjoying a game.
Excalibur nightclub
In 1997, a segment of the television show Sightings was filmed at Excalibur featuring host Tim White, a local ghosthunter, and a psychic. The psychic heard a child’s voice say, “Stop and watch me.” Excalibur employees have heard small voices, like children, crying and have seen a little girl looking over the railing in the club’s Dome Room. Adult figures have been seen in the club as well, including a white-tuxedoed figure and a bluish-colored shape that floated up the stairs. We will probably never know if these ghosts are connected to the Eastland disaster, but whether they are or not, they add more interest to an already fascinating and macabre story.
Glessner House
CHICAGO
THE FIRST THING KERRY*, THE YOUNG DOCENT at Glessner House told me as we stood in the courtyard behind the building, was that I could not use his real name in my story. According to the folks at the Prairie Avenue House Museums, the nonprofit organization that operates and maintains Glessner House and two other historic homes in the Prairie Avenue Historic District—and the same folks who sign Kerry’s paycheck—the 1887 mansion is absolutely not haunted.
That’s not what Kerry says.
While my wife, Mary, rested on a bench before Glessner House, waiting for the official tour to begin, I walked through the mansion’s porte-cochere and wandered around to the courtyard. Glessner House sits at the corner of Prairie Avenue and Eighteenth Street. Its exterior is made of rugged, rough-hewn stone with Romanesque elements and the steeply pitched gable roof is made of red tile. The mansion looks like a fortress and, indeed, that is what the Glessner family’s snobby neighbors called it after the house had been completed.
The rear of the mansion, however, sports a much different style. The famed architect Henry Hobson Richardson designed the house and it was his intent to design the courtyard and rear of the house as a comfortable refuge from the busy street. Here, the walls are faced with pinkish brick trimmed at the lintels and sills with cream-colored limestone. Unlike the severe planes of the mansion’s street-side façade, three turrets projecting into the courtyard punctuate the rear of the building. All the rooms inside the four-story mansion are oriented toward the landscaped courtyard and large windows open out to it.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and I was the only person admiring the courtyard until Kerry showed up. He was congenial and well versed on the history of the house and the Glessner family and wasted no time in relating it to me.
“Any ghosts?” I asked, experience having taught me it was best to get to the point in paranormal matters.
Kerry gave me a sidelong glance and took a step away, as if I had given him a shove. “No ghosts,” he said, shaking his head.
I still had a few minutes before the house tour was scheduled to commence, so I continued to stroll through the courtyard. Kerry stuck by me, pointing out interesting architectural details. We stopped at the rear of the courtyard. I was looking up at the servants’ quarters above the kitchen in the west wing of the house.
“But some weird things have happened here,” Kerry said, almost in a whisper.
Bingo.
“Really? Like what?”
Kerry looked around to make sure we were still alone. “Both Glessners died in the house. Mrs. Glessner in 1932 and her husband in 1936.”
“That’s not weird,” I said, “just unfortunate.”
“But they’re still here,” Kerry said, “at least Mr. Glessner.”
We started slowly walking out to the front of the mansion. Kerry told me about the day he was in the mansion’s kitchen, located at one end of the west wing. He said that he suddenly detected the scent of Mr. Glessner’s favorite soap, a sample of which is on display in his dressing room. Glessner’s dressing room, located off the master bedroom, is at the opposite end of the mansion, a great distance from the kitchen. Unless Glessner’s favorite soap was Eau d’Skunk, it was unlikely its fragrance could be detected that far away under normal circumstances.
“It was intense,” Kerry said. “It was like someone held the soap right up under my nose.”
As strange as Kerry’s story sounded, olfactory sensations are frequently linked to ghostly manifestations. It is not unusual for people to detect a female ghost through the fragrances of a favorite perfume or flower. Male ghosts, at least those who smoked in life, may be recognized by the scent of a favorite cigar or pipe tobacco. I had never heard of soap fragrance as an indicator of a ghostly presence, but I supposed it was as plausible as the other scents.
Besides, John Jacob Glessner was the kind of man who would continue to make his presence known long after death. Glessner was born in Zanesville, Ohio, in 1834. As a young man he was employed by Warder, Bushnell and Glessner, manufacturers of farm machinery. The ambitious Glessner worked his way up through the corporate ranks and in 1870 was sent to Chicago to oversee the company’s operations there. That same year, Glessner married Frances Macbeth of Springfield, Ohio.
The Glessners occupied two different houses before constructing the Prairie Avenue mansion. Their son George was born in one in 1871 and their daughter Frances, called Fanny, was born in the second house in 1875.
It was in the fashionable lakeshore Prairie Avenue District that Glessner built his mansion, a home much different in style from those of his rich neighbors. This was a neighborhood of tree-lined streets and fabulous mansions that displayed the architectural genius of men such as Solon Spencer Beman, Daniel Burnham, Richard Morris Hunt, and John Wellborn Root. The Glessner house was neighbor to other lavish homes owned by men whose names defined commercial success in late-nineteenth-century Chicago. George Pullman,
