and Randy Ballinger, owners of Marion’s Walnut Creek Club Run golf courses, thought they’d heard all the golf stories possible until players at Walnut Creek began telling them of some strange happenings involving a house on their course.
The house, located on the Club Run course at 7453 East 400 South, has been in the Ballinger family since it was first purchased in 1882 from the widow of the original builder, Israel Jenkins. Recently, the Indiana Department of Historic Preservation and Archeology bestowed upon the house a preservation award that gave it a place on the Indiana Register of Historic Sites and Structures. Sara and Randy Ballinger have owned the house since 1988. In 2000 they began the restoration to transform the home into an integral part of their golf course.
The original owners, Israel and his wife, Lydia, came to Grant County in 1839. The Jenkinses were one of several Quaker families who were arriving from Clinton County, Ohio. Israel named his two-story brick home “The Elms” for the stately elm trees that lined the drive.
Many Quakers, including two of Jenkins’ brothers-in-law, were abolitionists and actively involved in the Underground Railroad. Often homes that were a part of the Underground Railroad system would be given names referring to the type of trees surrounding them to aid slaves in the identification of the houses that offered sanctuary and assistance on the journey to Canada and freedom. It is not known for certain that the Israel Jenkins home was one of these, but it is very possible.
During the 2000 restoration to incorporate the historic home into the Walnut Creek course, workers reported unusual experiences. Some heard footsteps on the stairs, but when they’d go to investigate, there would be no one there. They also experienced some of the other “normal” happenings that occur in most houses that have this type of phenomenon, such as water turning on or off and things being moved. But perhaps one of the strangest occurrences happened to the painter one evening when he was alone in the house.
He often worked alone in the house after dark, but during those nights he began feeling like someone was watching him. On more than one occasion he heard the front door open and close and footsteps on the stairs going to the attic—yet, he was alone! He even reported seeing shadows in the hallway. After these experiences, he would not work in the house alone at night.
It was about three days later when Sara Ballinger described experiencing a similar occurrence. Sara thought she heard the front door open and close and believed it was her husband. Then she heard someone walk up the stairs, down the hall, and up the three steps to the attic door. At that point, it was as if the “person” tried to open the attic door. The latch that kept the door from opening more than about two inches began to rattle.
She didn’t realize the painter had also experienced unexplained happenings in the house until later. In both instances, the painter and Sara knew it could not have been a person, because after they heard the sounds, they went to look and no one was there!
Could this ghost be the spirit of the former house owner, Israel Jenkins? Or perhaps of his wife?
Today “The Elms” is a golf club house that serves light refreshments on the first floor. The second floor is used as a museum of historical artifacts of the families and the area.
And still the stories continue. During the summer of 2003, three female members of the golf club described seeing someone looking out the attic window as they finished the eighteenth hole. The women described what appeared to be a young male watching them. Randy assured them that no one was in the attic, but they insisted that they had seen someone watching them from the window.
Randy and the three golfers went upstairs to the attic, where they found the door locked. He unlocked the door, and they entered an empty room. The women showed him where the person had been standing, but there was no indication that any person had been in the room or by the window. It would’ve been impossible for someone to have unlocked the door and entered the attic room. Randy Ballinger was the only one who had a key, and he had just arrived!
After leaving the attic Randy once again locked the door, and they all went downstairs. He hoped the golfers were somewhat assured no one could’ve been watching them—at least no one from this world.
Israel Jenkins House on a foggy day. PHOTO: Jonathan Tétreault
The Phantom of the Opera House
Fairmount, Indiana, is perhaps best known as the hometown of actor James Dean. But there’s another stage-struck entity that is making its appearance at the historic Scott Opera House.
In the nineteenth century, many cities and towns were constructing opera houses to bring cultural resources to their citizens. Levi Scott, who was involved in establishing the first Fairmount bank as well as maintaining interest in natural gas resources through the Fairmount Mining Company, undertook the endeavor for Fairmount. In 1884, Scott erected a two-story Italianate building at 116 South Main Street. Scott’s opera house was located on the second floor. It was not unusual for opera houses to be built on the second floor since this would allow better utilization of the street level for commercial businesses.
The Fairmount News, in an 1890s account, praised the facility as “one of the nicest and best-arranged to be found in any place this size,” adding that “the auditorium had a seating capacity for six hundred people.”
The opera house played host to a wide variety of cultural events and persons in its heyday—comedy theater productions, famed Hoosier poet, James Whitcomb Riley, and “silver-tongued” orators addressing such topics as religion, politics, and demon rum.
By the twentieth century, the once-proud building had suffered the ravages of time. It took imagination to see how the building could have been such a focus of cultural life and entertainment for the town. The stage and seats were removed, and a partition had been built dividing the space into two rooms.
In 1993 came new signs of hope that the Scott Opera House may once again be a focal point of community cultural activity. A group of local residents interested in preserving Fairmount’s architectural and cultural heritage began meeting and studying the possibility of community revitalization. From the beginning, the primary goal was the restoration of the Scott Opera House for use as both a community arts and cultural center.
During this time, students began using the old opera house for band rehearsals. It wasn’t long before strange things began to happen.
Judy Cowling, president of Historic Fairmount, first heard the ghost stories from her son, Andy, the band’s guitarist. The students had been so spooked by their experiences that they were convinced there was a real phantom in the opera house.
One evening, Andy placed a coil of guitar wire on one of the speakers. A few minutes later he watched as the coil mysteriously unwound and began rising into the air like someone was stretching it.
Cowling tried to explain away the various reports that began coming from the band members. The eerie noises? That’s typical of old buildings. The lights going off and on with no one around? The electrical system needed to be checked or there could be a short in the wiring. And when band members reported that objects they’d put down would be moved to other locations, Cowling said it was probably one of the boys playing tricks on the others.
Then one night a band member saw a disembodied face of a bearded man! Cowling had no explanation, and the kids were really frightened. They began carrying Bibles to rehearsals.
Still
