Haunted Concert Venues
and Music Halls
The Ryman Auditorium:
The Granddaddy of All Haunted Halls
“You’re going to Nashville.”
For country singers and musicians those four simple words signaled that their dreams of stardom were coming true. Their hard work had paid off and their talent was finally being recognized.
Placed at a nexus of musical and spiritual influences, Nashville is a city of contrasts. It’s a big city full of small town sensibilities. It’s a hip cultural mecca and a folksy watering hole. Its streets are where wishes come true and its boulevards are where broken dreams finally rest.
Nashville is a city of lights—neon lights and stage lights, spot lights and street lights. The city also has a dark side, some say a paranormal side. Supernatural experts say that war, disease, natural disasters, and economic calamity have filled the buildings and streets of Nashville with ghosts who aren’t too happy about the location of their new neighborhood, located somewhere between life and death.
The site of our first stop on this tour of haunted Nashville is a perfect example of this supernatural mixed bag. The Ryman Auditorium has some friendly ghosts, some celebrity ghosts, and at least one dark spirit.
Nestled in the historic center of country music, the Ryman Auditorium is surely the spiritual center of that music. The somewhat austere-looking brick building located on the city’s Fifth Avenue is called the Mother Church of Country Music for a reason. Indeed, the Ryman was completed in 1892 as the Union Gospel Tabernacle. That was before it became a place where both secular performers and fans of secular music, alike, were dying to get into. Now, for some of them—dying can’t seem to get them to leave.
Though the Grand Ole Opry radio show was eventually moved to more modern and more technologically impressive digs in Nashville, the Ryman was the original home of the show that became synonymous with country music. Artists came from all over the country to perform for both the live and the radio audiences and those fans swarmed the Ryman from all over the country to hear performances from country legends—stars like Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn, and Johnny Cash.
As we have already discussed, the ghost of Hank Williams supposedly haunts the theater. But Williams is not the only suspect in the long list of legendary spirits—or spirit legends—who make their after-death appearances at the auditorium. The Ryman has a haunted history that goes way, way back to an era even before country music filled its acoustically perfect concert hall.
Many experts say that to truly understand why the Ryman is so supernaturally charged we have to go the whole way back to the man who built it: Captain Thomas Ryman. Ryman was a riverboat captain, the owner of a bunch of saloons, and not what anyone at the time would call a good Christian gentleman. In fact, he was not happy at all to hear that the Reverend Sam Jones was in town.
The preacher’s sermons were lighting up Nashville and his tent revivals were reforming Nashville’s wayward citizens and the captain’s best customers. You see, the pastor was casting down verbal fire and brimstone on the citizens of Nashville for gambling and drinking—two of Captain Ryman’s major profit centers. So, the captain decided he would go to one of Rev. Jones’s revivals to listen to the pastor in person—maybe to heckle him, maybe to confront him. But something happened, something that would change Nashville history forever. The salty, sin-enabling captain didn’t break up the revival or ridicule the pastor. The captain converted.
After Ryman’s conversion, he built the Union Gospel Tabernacle—which was renamed the Ryman Auditorium after the captain’s death—so that the faithful in Nashville would never have to use tents for a revival. Ryman invested $100,000—which was a huge sum of money at that time—in building this revival meeting house. When Rev. Jones preached his first sermon there, he said it was worth every penny, saying, “I believe for every dollar spent in this Tabernacle, there’ll be $10 less spent in the future on court trials. This tabernacle is the best investment the city of Nashville ever made.”
Captain Ryman still keeps close watch on his spiritual investment apparently. Because he built the auditorium for spiritual reasons, those familiar with the Ryman haunting say that the captain was not exactly thrilled when the auditorium became a performance hall for popular secular acts, too. He made his displeasure known in a big way. Once, when a particularly saucy act (for the time), had a chance to perform at the auditorium, audience members began to hear a ruckus. Sounds—like violent poundings—erupted, causing some fans to think that someone was ripping the theater apart. The noise grew so loud that it drowned out the act that the captain’s spirit had taken such a profound dislike to. That’s one way to clear the stage.
The reformed captain may be the noisiest spirit in the auditorium, but he by no means is the only spirit haunting the property. Guests, performers, and workers dub another spirit “the Gray Man.”
Compared to the ghost of Captain Ryman, this spirit is as subdued as the hue of his nickname. First, he dresses a bit drab. People who have run into the Gray Man say he is dressed entirely—you guessed it—in gray and they say there’s even something somber about his demeanor. Another odd thing about this ghost is that he doesn’t attend any of the lively performances; he’s more likely to show up for rehearsals.
Lots of artists who performed at the Ryman tell stories about scanning the empty seats of the auditorium as they rehearse their upcoming sets and, as their eyes pass by rows and rows of empty seats, they unexpectedly see a man sitting alone. For those who have never heard of the Gray Man legend, they probably assume he is part of the Ryman staff. But other artists, savvy to the legend, know who he is.
Some of the more courageous (or crazy) souls investigate the sighting as soon as they are done with practice. Each time, it’s the same story: the witnesses dash off the stage and run toward the seat where they swear they saw the Gray Man, but when they arrive, the man is gone—vanished.
The Gray Man graces more than just the stars of the famous Ryman stage. He likes to appear to the common folk, too. Maintenance workers who clean and fix the auditorium long after the shows are over say they have seen a man—dressed in gray—often sitting in the balcony seats. Just like all the other stories, the Gray Man skedaddles before the workers can approach him.
Who is the Gray Man? All the friends of the Ryman Auditorium continue to debate that question. Although the debaters have not reached a firm conclusion, they have established a few possible theories. One theory is that the Gray Man is just a fan who died and returned to the place he loved the most—the Ryman. Others believe that since the auditorium was built in a town that was devastated by the Civil War, the spirit may be the ghost of a long-departed Confederate soldier. After all, the Ryman was host to several conventions of Confederate veterans of the Civil War. Maybe one of those feisty rebels decided to stick around long after his brothers-in-arms had moved on.
Star Ghosts
Like the eternal evening sky, the Ryman has seen stars come and go, although a few may have extended their stay, one might say, perpetually. We’ve already discussed the ghost of Hank Williams. He’s earned top billing on the marquee of ghostly acts at the auditorium. More than a few witnesses have spotted a foggy apparition that looks a lot like Williams on the Ryman stage.
Patsy Cline, one of country music’s first ladies, was a popular act on the Grand Ole Opry, and fans have seen her ghost at the auditorium. Ghost hunters guess that she was so attached to the Ryman in her life that the bond never broke. Like Williams, her apparition is supposed to be blurry, but any fan who has a run-in with Cline’s ghost say they can recognize her iconic shape and her brilliant smile.
Then there’s the ghost of Elvis. The King of Rock and Roll didn’t exactly bring down the house at the Ryman when he tried out for the Grand Ole Opry. In fact, if the legend is correct, Ryman talent scouts basically told the King—and his swivelin’ hips—to swivel on back to Memphis and ask for his truck-driving job back. He would not play at the Ryman. (Captain Ryman’s ghost must have supported that decision.)
However, years later, none other than Elvis’s daughter Lisa Marie may have encountered her father’s spirit at the Ryman and is as ornery as ever. The story goes that Lisa Marie, who had her own musical career, finished up a performance at the Ryman and went to her dressing room with her entourage. When she tried to open the door to the dressing room, though, the door was stuck. Not locked. It was stuck. Lisa noticed when she pulled the door back, the door would give a little and then snap back. It was like someone was on the other side, tugging at the door. She pulled harder. No luck. Then she asked one of the burlier members of her group to give it a pull. He pulled it with all of his might—and it did not budge. Another bodyguard jumped in and gave it a tug. Again, no luck.
Eerily, the door would sometimes open—just a crack—and then slam shut!
Exasperated, Lisa Marie voiced her concern and told the paranormal practical joker on the other side that she would call the security guards. At that moment, the group swore they heard a laugh, one that sounded exactly like Elvis’s laugh. Then, the door opened easily.
The group became convinced that even though the old guard didn’t want Elvis to play at the Ryman during his life, that wouldn’t stop the King from playing around after he shuffled off the mortal coil. Lisa Marie probably saw the paranormal practical joke as just another way her dad was still reaching out to his beloved daughter.
Opryland: New Facilities, “Ole” Spirits
In 1974, the Grand Ole Opry radio show and concerts, so synonymous with the heydays of country music, moved from the Ryman Auditorium, where the performances (and a lot of ghosts) were hosted for about half a century, to the recently constructed theme park, Opryland. You can’t sugar coat this. It was a sad moment for country music history. But it was a hopeful one, too.
Fans were hopeful that the new venue and park would make country more accessible to the many millions—and growing—fan base. Some of the staff were hopeful that a more modern and spacious hall would attract even more fans.
People who believe in the paranormal were split into two camps, too. The staff of the Grand Ole Opry might look forward to a new space where a possible bone-chilling supernatural encounter didn’t lurk around every corner and behind every closed door. People who were interested in the paranormal, on the other hand, were hopeful that the fine tradition of country music ghosts would follow, too.
We already know who came out on top in the ghosts-versus-no-ghosts request. We heard, for instance, about Roy Acuff’s haunted house at the park. But Acuff’s ghost is just one of the dozens of other chilling paranormal accounts that have circulated about Opryland, and especially the Opryland Hotel. These stories indicate that just because you move country music performances, doesn’t mean its famous ghosts won’t move with them.
Even before the first ghosts started to arrive, word has it that one of country music’s most famous ghosts was looking the place over. Late one night, a construction worker was accidentally locked in. Instead of waiting on his rescuers to arrive, the worker began to explore the work site. He swore he saw and heard Hank Williams and another singer practicing one of Williams’s songs. Who the other singer was is up for speculation.
While Williams and Acuff are the most famous names among the spirits that haunt the property, another less-known name is probably the most feared. Staff and guests at the hotel have seen the eerie apparition of a woman walking slowly down the halls. They refer to her as Mrs. McGavock. But she has a much more ominous-sounding name, too: the Lady in Black of Opryland.
She earned that moniker because she is often seen draped in a black veil. That’s one reason people are sure it’s a ghost and not a case of mistaking a living human for an apparition. After all, how often do you see people wearing veils these days? The rest of her ensemble is not of this era, either. Witnesses say her sense of fashion definitely reminds them of the Civil War, or pre-Civil War–era garb.
One staff member writes that he had a run-in with the ghost in 1990. He said he was a retail manager of a store in the hotel that had the unenviable distinction of being open the latest at night. The store closed at midnight, but the manager routinely stayed much later than that, often stocking shelves and completing paperwork until 2 a.m.
Late one night, the manager said he was passing by the staircase that takes guests from the first to second floor and saw the image of a woman in a full gown. Weirdly, he remarked that the image was blurry, not sharp and clear, so he knew it was definitely not a flesh-and-blood person walking down the steps. He also knew he was the only one in that section of the hotel at the time.
Keeping his wits—and Southern charm—about him, he just said, “Good evening, ma’am” and stayed in place. He said the spirit eventually faded away and he went about his nightly duties.
Another group of workers had a run-in, or possibly a glide-in, with the Opryland Hotel’s resident spirit, according to Christopher Coleman’s Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee. The workers were waxing the floors of the hotel. They looked up and saw the Lady in Black gliding above the spot they just had cleaned. Another cleaning woman saw the ghost and immediately quit, according to the book.
The Lady in Black was also seen in the outlet stores that surround the hotel. After a century-and-change of haunting, she probably has quite the shopping list. Maybe she could finally change out of that black veil.
So who is this mysterious veiled lady? Many people call her Mrs. McGavock, which connects the haunting to one of Nashville’s famous historic families, according to most experts on Opryland’s paranormal activity.
They say the McGavock family owned the property and its majestic plantation house called Two Rivers House a long time ago. Now a historic destination of its own, staff members who act as tour guides and who maintain the property say that the mansion is the center of paranormal activity. They say they have seen objects disappear right in front of their eyes and heard the sound of footsteps crossing empty halls.
Even though Mrs. McGavock is the prime suspect, experts say she is just one of many spirits—including numerous ghosts of Native Americans and Civil War soldiers—who inhabit the extremely haunted fields and winding rivers that make this section of Tennessee the state’s most haunted hunting grounds.
The Music City Center: Branson, Missouri
As we’ll discuss, Branson, Missouri, is like a little Nashville—a budding entertainment capital poised to take on Nashville as the capital city of country music. Branson’s ghosts are in on the competition, as well. One of Branson’s hot spots—and an even hotter haunted hot spot—is the Music City Center, a popular entertainment complex. The building houses a theater and modern recording studios, and is reportedly outfitted with a few spirits, too, including the ghost of a little girl who likes to greet visitors and members of the staff, according to The Ghosts of Branson by Charles Kennedy. Workers like to call her Amy. They say she usually announces her presence with a few pranks. Objects will disappear and then reappear, or items will suddenly move. But Amy isn’t afraid of going full apparitional.
In one instance, employees who worked the late-night shift heard strange noises echoing from the theater section of the complex. They went to investigate. As they peered into the darkness, the staff members said they could plainly see and hear a little girl. She was humming and tinkering with the equipment. When the workers called out to her, she froze and looked back at them. Then, right in front of the unbelieving eyes of the workers, she vanished.
The sightings tend to freak out new workers, but the run-ins with Amy have become so commonplace that once workers get used to Amy, the fear starts to diminish. In fact, most people sort of like that she’s hanging around.
Employees, however, wouldn’t mind if another guest ghost would check out. The ghost of an old man haunts the hotel, too, a couple of reports indicate. He doesn’t want to play, either, or, at least, he doesn’t have quite the same sense of playfulness as Amy. The spirit of the old man—who doesn’t even get a nickname—is blamed for a lot of the weird and often annoying activity around the building. Workers point the finger at him any time the power fails, equipment breaks down, or the elevator stops working.
The odd elevator malfunctions can happen anytime—night or day. It seems to happen in all types of weather conditions, so the employees don’t blame the problems with the elevator on a passing thunderstorm, for instance. Right before the elevator experiences problems, people also have noticed the elevator lights flashing on, like an unseen finger is pressing the buttons.
Most of the time, the culprit goes unseen, but some witnesses have reported signs of a presence and at least one story suggests workers made physical contact with the ghost of the elevator prankster. According to the story, a group of employees was called to repair the elevator during one of its shutdowns and said they saw an old man exit the elevator room. They called out to him, but he never responded and, as they watched, he disappeared—just like the little girl who plays in the theater of the Music City Center. When the crew entered the room and checked on the equipment, they discovered that a switch has been physically turned to the off position.
There is only one thing that tops the number of rumors of haunted encounters at the Music City Center and that’s the reasons for why the ghosts are there in the first place. Actually, nobody knows how the ghosts made their way to the entertainment complex, but it could be that—as we’ll find out—Branson is so overwhelmed with haunted activity, these spirits just needed a place to stay in the city.
Apollo Civic Theatre: Fright at the Apollo
During the Apollo Civic Theatre’s long history, an equally long line of country music’s biggest names have performed there, from the classic country stars—Little Jimmy Dickens, Merle Haggard, and Tex Ritter—to some of the more modern stars, such as Garth Brooks. The stars and their fans keep coming back to Martinsburg, West Virginia. According to guests and staff, it’s not just the stars that come back to the Apollo. The spirits keep coming back, too.
The hauntings in the restored building on Martin Street stretch way back, but one member of the theater group that performs there told a Herald-Mail reporter that his first run-in with the unexplained happened in 1975. The theater group member, Mike Noll, told the reporter he was alone in the theater one night when he saw something moving across the back balcony. From his vantage point, it looked as though a bunch of inky shadows were running along the balcony. He also heard the creak of steps, like someone was walking up and down the stairs.
Just another naive ghost hunter jumping to conclusions? Maybe not. At the time of the incident, Noll was a skeptic—“was” being the operative term. He could have easily dismissed what he experienced as the theater settling or some other unusual but natural phenomenon. But this incident was only one in a string of strange encounters people have experienced in the building. He said that his 1975 encounter jibed well with so many other stories that he has heard over the years, as well as testimony from his fellow theater friends, that he became convinced there was something strange—if not paranormal—about the theater.
“You don’t know if your mind is playing tricks on you or if it’s something serious,” Noll told the paper. “I probably wouldn’t have believed it if so many other people hadn’t seen or heard the same kinds of things here.”
What Noll saw and heard that evening was just another notch in a long list of unexplainable events that have caused people—many of whom were once skeptics, like Noll—to change their tune about the supernatural.
It’s not just shadows and shapes. Visitors and staff, alike, have endured the full range of paranormal phenomena in the theater, including the manifestation of full-body apparitions. There’s a man wearing bib overalls and a brown-checked shirt who haunts the Apollo. Another spirit you might encounter is a woman with a long white dress. Other unlucky witnesses have seen the violent side of the paranormal: they report seeing a man and a woman who appear to be trying to strangle each other.
Not all of the ghostly activity can be seen or heard. Some of it is smelled. The unmistakable scent of cigar smoke wafts through the halls and rooms of this grand theater, even when no one is smoking stogies. One guest became so agitated she broke out in hives when she smelled the cigar smoke while standing in an empty room. Some of the Apollo regulars say that the stogie smell is from a ghost named Charlie. They say the cigar-chomping manager was at the helm of the theater back in the heydays during the 1920s.
Another witness said she had an encounter with Charlie outside of the theater. The woman, who lived in a nearby apartment, could see the theater from her window. She was looking out one evening and saw a man in a fedora lighting up a cigar. He was hunched over and his jacket was pulled up to his ears, so it was hard to make out facial details, she said, but she could definitely see that cigar. The woman figured it was just an actor from the theater. But when the cigar-smoking man also immediately vanished before her very eyes, she knew this was no ordinary thespian. It was such a jarring event that the woman—who knew nothing about the theater’s haunted legacy—sought out a ghost hunter. The hunter told her she probably saw Charlie, who must have wanted to stretch his legs a bit after decades of haunting the Apollo.
For some reason, Charlie is most likely to make an appearance during the autumn. That’s when most of the reports of cigar smoke smell begin to filter in, or perhaps non-filter in. Nobody knows why Charlie seems to like the fall so much, but it does coincide nicely with the traditional spooky season of Halloween, experts on the case point out.
Charlie is just one of the ghosts hanging around in the Apollo, which shouldn’t be a surprise. The theater is situated in a haunted town that’s part of a haunted region. The Civil War and an influenza outbreak in 1918 are just some of the tragedies that may have fueled this excessive supernatural activity.
There are so many ghosts that the Apollo has become a training ground for ghost hunters and paranormal investigators. At least one group of ghost hunters, who said they investigated about five thousand cases during their existence as an organization, was called in to check out the premises after receiving a report that someone in the theater was shoved by an unseen force while standing alone backstage. The leader of the West Virginia–based group said that this report, though, was only one of dozens of calls, emails, and conversations that she has had about the haunted Apollo.
Shreveport Municipal Auditorium:
A Hayride Into The Paranormal
The Art Deco building that stands proudly on Elvis Presley Boulevard in Shreveport, Louisiana, holds a lot of history. Elvis Presley performed at the Shreveport Municipal Auditorium as part of his culture-changing performances on the Louisiana Hayride, a popular country radio show that was broadcast from the auditorium.
Hank Williams and Johnny Cash played there, too, as part of the Hayride.
Once you go inside, you realize that the building—affectionately nicknamed the Muni—isn’t just full of history; it’s full of ghosts, according to fans, employees, and the occasional paranormal researcher who have encountered supernatural presences at the arena. Elvis, Hank, and Johnny, along with Patsy Cline and an unnamed custodian, have all been added to the extensive lineup of spirits who may be haunting the building. The reports of paranormal manifestations in the Muni include apparitions and auditory phenomena—including electronic voice phenomena and odd knocks and groans—as well as poltergeist activity.
The spirit of a custodian is one of the spectral suspects. Many witnesses believe they have seen the apparition of the janitor rumored to have died in the Muni, according to some stories. The custodian, however, has some celebrity company. A member of the Convention and Tourist Bureau said that while in the building one evening she saw a figure appear momentarily. She’s convinced that it was Hank Williams.
The Man in Black is also supposed to haunt the building. A frequent guest on the Louisiana Hayride radio show and performer at the Muni back in the day, Cash’s performances are listed among the auditorium’s most memorable. And Cash’s appearances don’t show any signs of stopping. Witnesses have reported hearing Cash’s distinctive deep voice in the auditorium, and several people investigating the auditorium for signs of paranormal activity said that they have even recorded that distinctive voice using EVPs. To collect EVPs, researchers use recording devices throughout their investigations, and then they analyze the file for sounds or voices that may emerge from the static in the background.
It’s not just performers who share the haunted stage with the ghosts of the Muni; fans get in on the paranormal action. In several cases, people claim to have heard applause and the excited chatter of what sounds like a bunch of teenyboppers raving over their newest idols. Recording devices picked up some of these auditory effects, too, Muni paranormal experts say.
A tour guide said that while leading people through the auditorium, it’s become a natural occurrence for doors to open and close spontaneously—without anyone standing close to them. She said, despite numerous checks and attempts to debunk the phenomena, no one can find a natural explanation of the phenomena. There’s no draft. There’s no broken door. There are no pranksters nearby.
That activity was confirmed by a group of ghost hunters, who said that while investigating the Muni one team member heard a door slam shut. The ghost hunter said it was no ordinary breeze-driven, door-slamming event—the door was a huge, metal door. It would take more than a breeze to shut it. She left the investigation without an explanation for the door-shutting incident, the ghost hunter added.
It’s not just ghost hunters who encounter odd phenomena in the auditorium; musicians report they encounter a chilly reception at the Muni. Not from the fans. They’re usually great. They get the cold shoulder—and cold rest of the body—from the spirits that roam the stage at the auditorium.
The musicians say that often when they are playing, they suddenly feel like the temperature drops significantly. They move a little in either direction and they suddenly warm up. They step back to the place where they were just standing—and as quick as a rim shot on the snare, it’s cold again. Paranormal experts point out that this is classic spirit activity. When a spirit manifests, it pulls energy from the area, causing the temperature to drop, they say.
Musicians may bear the brunt of the haunting at the Muni, but some people say musicians do most of the haunting at the stadium. Patsy Cline is another one of the star spirits at the Muni.
Paranormal enthusiasts over the years have claimed to have collected enough evidence to prove, at least in their eyes, that the stadium is haunted. The evidence includes snapshots of objects and orbs flitting around the stadium halls and stage. They also have recorded voices of people whispering and chatting. Investigators say these voices may belong to fans and celebrities—Johnny Cash’s distinctive voice has been picked up on occasion, for example—who have visited the Muni a long, long time ago. There’s even one recording of a ghostly Johnny Cash fan. People who have heard this recording claim to hear a voice say, “I love Johnny Cash,” even though no one said this when the recording device was running.
Memorial Hall:
Memories Aren’t The Only Things That Live On
Memorial Hall, a 3,500-seat auditorium located in downtown Kansas City, Kansas, has played host to some of the music industry’s most historic concerts and that includes dozens of America’s most important country music acts. But over the years, the building has served as a venue for something else—ghost hunts.
Ghost-hunting teams have traveled to the auditorium to verify the dozens of stories about paranormal activity there. These accounts include tales of deceased workers and music celebrities, including Patsy Cline. Cline gave her last performance at a benefit show there in 1963, two days before her death in an airplane crash.
Since Cline’s untimely death, people have sworn they have seen a woman in the building who looks exactly like Cline in her prime. She has been described either as a filmy spirit moving in the far reaches of the hall, or as a completely human-looking female who catches the eye of a visitor and then, as soon as she is recognized, quickly disappears by filtering into the crowd. Staff members have reported coming in contact with Cline, too, usually late at night or early in the morning after all of the concert-goers have gone home. This is offered as evidence that another explanation for the haunting promoted by skeptics—that a lookalike is responsible for the supposed haunting—is extremely unlikely.
One leader of a ghost-hunting group that leads tours of haunted sites in Kansas told a reporter for the Basehor Sentinel that Cline’s ghost is an example of a residual spirit.
“It’s just a residual energy, like a tape being played over and over again,” said Beth Cooper, a guide for Ghost Tours of Kansas.
In other words, Cline’s ghost may not be trying to reach out to visitors in the hall. The highly charged emotional event—particularly the last performance of her career—may have etched Cline’s vivacious spirit right onto the fabric of time and space at the concert hall.
At least Cline has company in the hall. Another ghost is frequently added to the list of possible spooks in Memorial Hall. People report they have seen the spirit of a man appear in the auditorium. Although the details are sketchy and actual evidence of the incident is difficult to find, a rumor—or urban legend—persists that the figure seen in the theater is the spirit of a stagehand who was reportedly electrocuted in the hall sometime during the 1980s.
A ballroom in the building has become a center of paranormal activity. Workers have heard footsteps crossing the floor around them, even though they know they are alone in the building. Music sometimes begins to play, without explanation or, seemingly, a source. Lights outside of the ballroom turn on and off—also by themselves.
These accounts are backed up by paranormal researchers who have gathered evidence in the nearly century-old concert venue. One ghost-hunting team picked up an image of a man on their thermal camera. The figure appeared near the stage—a place that’s frequently the site of haunted encounters.
Ghost hunters who use recording devices to pick up voices from discarnate entities also report success at the auditorium. The voice of what sounds to be a woman was picked up in one example of electronic voice phenomena—or EVP, as researchers typically refer to it.
Critics won’t be convinced that the scratchy recording of a woman’s voice is evidence, but for staff members who have spent time in the wee hours of the morning traipsing through Memorial Hall alone, they don’t need critics to tell them what evidence is. They are convinced that there is something strange going on in the auditorium.
The Bijou: Boo at the Bijou
For years, country stars and their fans—along with lots of other famous musicians and actors—have streamed into the Bijou Theater, the beautiful and historic theater in Knoxville, Tennessee. When they leave this exceptional piece of Knoxville culture and history, some of them take an extra souvenir with them—ghost stories.
Over the years, the theater has served as everything from a concert hall to an adult movie house. It’s been a rocky road for the theater, too, suffering through lots of entertainment ups and downs and economic booms and busts. But the one thing that hasn’t changed is that people continually claim to experience paranormal activity at the theater. Now the ghosts almost receive higher billing than the musicians at the Bijou.
A few of the ghosts are so well known that they have nicknames. There’s one who most people just refer to as “The Colonel.”
Historians say that as Union troops fought to take control of Knoxville, William Sanders, often referred to as “Doc” or Colonel Sanders (the other Colonel Sanders), was shot by a sharpshooter and brought to the Bijou, which was called the Lamar House at the time. Sanders, who had risen to the rank of general during the Civil War, never recovered from his wounds and he died in the house the following day.
His ghost was said to roam around the house and he was often seen and felt in the Bridal Suite, supposedly the very room where he died. When that section of the house was torn down, like any great soldier, Sanders refused to surrender his ground. He reportedly took up residence in the theater. More than a few people have seen a presence in the theater who looks out of place—and out of time. People see a uniformed man walking through the theaters. The colonel gets most of the blame for those sightings.
If the Union commander is still haunting the theater, he isn’t the only spirit in the house and, based on the company, he definitely won’t be bored in the afterlife there. The ghosts of a few prostitutes—the place was once rumored to be a hangout for ladies of ill repute—are known to haunt the theater. People hear wild party noises—people laughing and otherwise whooping it up—but can’t seem to locate the source of the party. These manifestations often occur when the theater is supposed to be empty. But, as we’ve been finding out, the supernatural world never closes.
Then, there are the ghosts of several famous actors and musicians who have been seen on the stage and in the halls of this historic property. Al Jolson, for example, was one of the leading actors in his day. He apparently loved playing the Bijou in Knoxville, because, according to several reports, he keeps on haunting the place. His ghost—or the spirit of someone who looks just like the Jazz Singer star—makes its appearance to staff members and guests on a regular basis.
Some witnesses have described ghosts that float across the floor and ones that even fly above the stage, so it’s hard to mistake these spirits for people who just happen to be in the building late at night.
If you don’t actually see a spirit in the historic Bijou, there are other ways the spirits manifest. On occasion, you can hear the shuffling of footsteps, like people are heading toward the stage, or maybe leaving during intermission. Doors close by themselves.
For country fans, the Bijou might offer more than just a place to see a great show—it may offer them a glimpse into the great beyond.
Paramount Art Center: Achy Breaky Haunt
In the 1940s, a group of construction workers, who were returning from their lunch break, picked up their hammers and tools to get back to work on what would be a shining showplace of fun and entertainment in Ashland, Kentucky. Something was wrong, though. Maybe it was the creak of planks, or perhaps it was the pendulum-like swing of a shadow sliding along the walls, but for some reason, a worker decided to look up and—to his absolute horror—saw the body of a fellow employee who everyone called Joe swinging from the stage rafters.
No one knows if Joe committed suicide or fell victim to a bizarre accident, but things were never the same in the theater. After the death, the haunting of the Paramount Theater and later, the Paramount Arts Center, began in earnest. Staff members, audience members, and entertainers began to report a string of inexplicable encounters with Paramount Joe, the nickname of the auditorium’s ghost-in-residence.
Cold drafts suddenly gust in the theater without any known source—no one opened a door or a window, for instance. Sure, you’re thinking, but old buildings are known to have drafts. Okay, then, believers counter, what about the objects that go missing mere seconds after someone has set them down? Happens all the time, you’ll counter. Then explain the apparition of a man who has been seen by the most credible witnesses. That’s a little more difficult to explain by natural phenomena.
Investigators into the Paramount Arts Center haunting tell us we don’t know a lot about Paramount Joe, nor are we likely to find out much about the man behind the ghost. We don’t know who he was or why he remains in the center. We do know, however, a couple things. First, despite the terrible death, the ghost is friendly. Second, Paramount Joe loves country music. You can ask Billy Ray Cyrus.
Cyrus was just at the very tip of his meteoric rise when he decided to use the picturesque theater as the perfect backdrop for the video for “Achy Breaky Heart,” the song that would send him into country superstardom and help him cross over to pop audiences.
As Cyrus filmed, the staff filled him in about Paramount Joe, and the singer, by all accounts, was really taken by the ghost story. During pauses in the filming of the video, Cyrus would talk to Joe and even ask Joe questions and joke around with the spirit. Sometimes, Cyrus would ask Joe for a little bit of extra assistance as he filmed the video. The two really hit it off—and, later on, Paramount Joe was about to hit back to let everyone know just how tight of a bond existed between him and the singer.
The story goes that once Billy Ray was finished with filming the video the staff asked him to sign some photographs and posters. Cyrus, naturally, agreed. When the country music superstar’s career took off, you can bet every single one of those framed photographs appeared in Paramount Arts Center’s “Wall of Fame.” The framed photographs remained there for years, something that must have made Billy Ray’s spirit buddy pretty happy.
Billy Ray even signed some posters for the ladies on the staff, all with a personal inscription. He didn’t leave Paramount Joe out, either. The star signed one poster for Paramount Joe with a personal note for the ghost. The ladies put their posters up near their office spaces. Paramount Joe’s went on a wall with posters and pictures of other famous artists.
Later, however, the auditorium staff realized they had a problem—a good problem. Over the years, dozens and dozens of celebrities visited the Paramount and signed their own photos for the Wall of Fame. They were literally running out of room. Leadership decided to take some of the Billy Ray Cyrus photos down to make way for the new pictures. The ladies, big fans of Billy Ray, did not want to take down their posters, so everyone agreed that Paramount Joe’s poster of the singer had to come down.
Paramount Joe did not take the news well. The morning after the poster went down, the staff members who came into the auditorium first were aghast: each and every picture and poster on the Wall of Fame was scattered along the floor, like someone emphatically, but indignantly, blew them right off of the wall. Glass was shattered. Frames were bent. The level of destruction made some staff members believe that these frames didn’t just slip off the wall; they looked as if they were slammed down hard. Really hard. Someone was not happy with the decision to de-Billy Ray the walls. You can bet who the staff blamed.
Paramount Joe is a friendly ghost, but he has his limits. The management also knew he was reasonable and quickly placed the Billy Ray Cyrus poster on the wall in what is now a cafe at the facility.
That seemed to work. There have been no more outbreaks of spirit vandalism against the Wall of Fame artists. But Paramount Joe is still pretty active.
Well Thanks, Joe
Once, a group of employees decided they wanted to explore the basement. The basement was rumored to hold unknown treasures from the auditorium’s earlier days. They hoped to find some. In any event, our intrepid explorers opened up the basement door and clicked on the light switch. (At each section, there’s a new light switch that illuminates the next section. You have to turn lights on and off at the same switch.)
One staff member, who had been in the basement before and knew where the light switches were located, clicked on the light at the top of the stairs and two other employees walked down the steps. The ghost stories must have been echoing in the back of their minds as the staff members descended that first flight of stairs. Just as the third employee was about to join them, though, the phone rang and he went back to take the call. He said he would be right back, but the coworkers never heard him. The soon-to-be paranormal investigators kept going, either out of bravery—hoping they would run into Paramount Joe—or out of fear, sensing that the quicker they entered, the quicker they could depart.
They moved on to the next section and called out to their coworker to hit the switch to turn on the lights. And just like that, the light was switched on. Once the employees were finished, they returned and saw that their coworker was still at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t right behind them as they thought. They thanked him, however, for turning on the lights.
The third coworker was confused. He told them that, because the phone call was more involved than he thought, he didn’t return to turn on the lights. In fact, he believed his coworkers were still waiting for him to return. He had no idea that they were pressing on into the dark and cavernous—and apparently haunted—basement. They took him back to the basement and, sure enough, whoever turned the lights on so graciously for the staff, turned them right back off again.
The three coworkers who just recorded another brush with the paranormal at the Paramount stood in stunned silence for a moment, until one yelled, “Well thanks, Joe.”