Country Spirits:
Bars, Clubs, Taverns,
and Honky-tonks
Country music is not written and performed exclusively for knocking a few back and packing the dance floor at the local honky-tonk, but the music sure takes on a life of its own when it is performed at those local watering holes. Country fans aren’t the only ones who enjoy the lively environment of country-music friendly bars, clubs, taverns, and honky-tonks.
Paranormal experts and music fans alike say these spaces harbor more than liquid spirits, they hold lost spirits—ghosts of former owners and patrons—along with other wandering souls who became attached to the establishments in either their former lives or current afterlife journey.
Most of these spirits are not harmful. They, in fact, can be friendly. But some of the most dangerous ghosts of country music are known to haunt bars and honky-tonks. One of the most famous—and scariest—stories of ghostly and ghastly paranormal interactions will be up first when we visit arguably the world’s most haunted country music bar—Bobby Mackey’s Music World.
Bobby Mackey’s Music World:
One Haunted Honky-Tonk
When country music star Bobby Mackey bought a bar in Wilder, Kentucky, he expected some rough-and-tumble guests. After all, what would a honky-tonk be without a few knock-down, drag-outs every now and then. And the fact that the bar was based in “Wilder,” should have been a clue that things could get a little out-of-hand in this corner of Kentucky.
He just had no idea that some of those rough-and-tumble guests looking for a fight would be dead.
Bobby Mackey’s Music World is one of the most haunted locations in country music’s vast paranormal landscape. The haunting of this establishment has been investigated on television and explored in books. Documentary filmmakers and television news crews continue to visit Bobby Mackey’s to tell and retell the story of the haunting.
On paper and on film, Bobby Mackey’s doesn’t look like your typical haunted property. In fact, it looks like a normal bar and restaurant located on the gentle lapping shores of the Licking River. Maybe that’s why Mackey didn’t suspect anything back in the late 1970s when he signed his name to the bottom line of the agreement to purchase the bar.
Within days, though, the country star and one time paranormal skeptic said events began to happen to eventually convince him that not only did the supernatural exist, but that there was something inexplicable happening in his new investment. Workers who were preparing the bar for opening noticed that the lights turned on and off by themselves. Believing the light show was nothing more than wiring problems, they were able to laugh off the phenomenon. But, as we’ll discover in a later chapter on haunted jukeboxes, when an unplugged jukebox began to play by itself, Mackey and his employees grew more suspicious. You can’t blame the wiring when the thing isn’t plugged in, after all.
The activity was weird but harmless, at least at the beginning. Mackey and his family were just receiving a glimpse of the supernatural crowd that had packed his bar. More reports about tangles with ghosts began to roll in. These spirits were highly interactive—some paranormal investigators call them “entities.” The ghosts didn’t seem like they were great company. Reliable witnesses claimed that an unseen force shoved them. In fact, Mackey’s wife, Janet, swore on an affidavit that she was thrown down a set of steps. Others said they were pinched and punched, still other witnesses said they were slapped. In interviews, Mackey said he thought about selling the haunted enterprise, but he had sunk all of his savings into the establishment. He was too invested in the place. There was no turning back.
Over the years, the owner’s investigations, as well as information gathered from some of the ghost hunters and sensitives that Mackey and his wife brought in, began to unravel the bar’s disturbing history and revealed that an extensive list of spirits frequented the bar.
Originally, the bar was a slaughterhouse and there are those who have suggested that this bloodletting attracted malevolent spirits—human and otherwise. Folklorists say that groups affiliated with satanic or dark magic rites once performed their rituals in the slaughterhouse because of the copious quantities of blood for their spells and curses. However, there’s no historical evidence that the spot was used as a regular meeting site for satanic worship.
As if its reputation as a convention center for budding evil wizards wasn’t enough, the building was rumored to be the scene of a grisly murder and the victim may still haunt the place. There are a few variations of the story, but one of the most popular—which is a mix of both fact and folklore—goes like this:
A young woman named Pearl Bryan met up with two unsavory characters—Alonzo Walling and Scott Jackson—in early February 1896. Townsfolk at the time suspected Walling and Jackson of being associated with the satanic cult that met in the slaughterhouse. Until now, the animal sacrifices were enough to please the dark lord, but he apparently wanted more. Bryan was lured into the slaughterhouse and killed. According to folklore, while police found the body, they never recovered the poor woman’s head. Jackson and Walling were quickly apprehended and, although they were offered a lesser sentence of life in prison to disclose the whereabouts of the victim’s head, they never did. According to some tales, the murderers were afraid of incurring the wrath of Satan for revealing the location of the sacrifice.
Opting out of the plea deal, the men were convicted of murder and sentenced to death.
Over time, residents spun a tale that indicated the two men threw the head down the slaughterhouse well as part of a ritual to turn the chasm into a gateway to Hell. Experts on the case, as we’ll soon find out, say there is no evidence that a head was tossed into the well. (But it still makes a pretty good cover story for the mysterious goings-on at the bar, right?)
Another bit of folklore says that a curse is behind the haunting. Witnesses report that as Walling stepped to the gallows, he eyed those who had gathered to see his execution and those who had condemned him to death. He then spoke his last words—he cursed all of them and vowed to return from the grave and haunt them forever.
Maybe the incidents at Mackey’s are related to Walling’s curse. It does seem that while most of the country music ghosts that we’ve talked about in this book are good spirits—although, granted, they too can be a little creepy—the ghosts at Bobby Mackey’s place are badasses, even compared to the occasional living badasses who frequent honky-tonks. There’s one spirit that witnesses have seen behind the bar—he looks mean and not someone you would want to tangle with. People get a distinctly bad vibe about this ghost, speculating that he’s the one who is responsible for many of the negative paranormal interactions with the owner, employees, and patrons. Most bet this is the ghost of the murderous Walling.
Walling may have paranormal company, including one apparition that might be the murderer’s victim, though she has a head. People have reported seeing a sad-looking young woman suddenly appear and then just as suddenly disappear. Witnesses say the apparition is nearly see-through, but the apparition creates concrete emotions. Most people who have had a run-in with this spirit say they will be forever haunted by the sad expression on the woman’s face.
The female ghost was one of the first spirits to appear to the new owners, according to several sources. During an initial tour of the building, Bobby and Janet made their way through the building. Strangely, the couple watched as a large metal door opened on its own. It was an unwelcoming welcome for the future investors of the property. Undeterred, the couple slid through the now half-opened door and Bobby clambered onto the stage. Looking into the now deserted and dusty bar, Bobby imagined all the chairs filled with people and all the tables filled with drinks and food. While he saw this in his mind’s eye, something caught his attention. A woman with a long white gown and long light brown hair was staring back at him from the dance floor!
He called out to the shape, but she disappeared. Knowing that he was lost in thought at the time of the sighting, Bobby told Janet the woman was just a figment of his imagination, maybe a trick of the shadows that danced in the dark, empty room. Janet wasn’t so sure, and she became immediately fearful and suspicious. As the owners became more immersed in their new investment, the spirits seemed to take a more active interest in the owners. The darker spirit—or spirits—that reside in the building took pleasure in tormenting Janet. Once while she was cleaning and helping prepare for the club’s opening, she began to feel overheated. Since Janet was pregnant at the time, she quickly attributed it to just a rush of hormones. She decided, just to be safe, that it was time to take a break. As Janet walked through the club, she was seized with a chill that was almost paralyzing. Goosebumps formed on her body. Despite being drenched in sweat just moments before, she had never felt this cold. Janet said she heard a nearly inaudible whisper, but she couldn’t make out the words. It was unsettling—evil.
In addition to these ghost sightings—and a few ghost shoves—people have claimed to have seen the ghost of a headless woman walking through a crowd of revelers at the club. A ghost dog and a man with a handlebar mustache have also been seen, according to witness testimonies.
There was another rumor that a pregnant woman committed suicide in the club. She was a dancer named Johanna. The story later became the subject of one of Bobby’s songs. Urban legend or not, lots of people suggest that it’s not a coincidence that Bobby’s pregnant wife established some sort of spiritual connection with the ghost of the ill-fated pregnant dancer.
The late Carl Lawson, one of the bar’s first employees, wasn’t just tormented; he was possessed, according to his own account. He served as the caretaker and was more exposed to the supernatural forces that gripped the premises because he also lived in an apartment above the club. On several occasions, Lawson said spirits assaulted him.
Eventually, Lawson began to believe he was possessed. He became self-destructive and continually entertained evil thoughts. His friends and coworkers began to notice the transformation, especially since Lawson’s normal disposition was helpful and friendly. The disruption became so bad that—during his more lucid moments—he agreed to undergo an exorcism. The grueling, six-hour ceremony was held in the deep recesses of the building, a section that has—maybe not coincidentally—been torn down. During the exorcism, the spirit that possessed Lawson fought with the preacher performing the rite, physically and verbally. He also began to speak in German and Latin, two languages Lawson swore he did not know.
Lawson’s experiences had far-reaching impact for his best friend, Mackey. The club owner had plans to tear down the building. Although, for the most part, he dismissed the paranormal experiences of his employees and family members, reports are that the videotaped exorcism of his caretaker made him reconsider. Mackey wanted to build a new club on a nearby plot of land. The spirits had other plans. While walking through his club, a chunk of the ceiling fell on him as he was talking about the pending demolition. Then, a six-inch-wide, sixty-foot-deep crack spread from the original property to the site of the new club. The crack made the new club a financial impossibility. Mackey and the engineers probably couldn’t help but notice that the crack originated at the well—the epicenter of the haunting.
Douglas Hensley, who has written extensively about the haunting and wrote a book on it, called Hell’s Gate, said there are no shortages of witnesses who are willing to tell their stories of paranormal encounters in the bar. Along with Janet, nearly thirty people have signed off on sworn affidavits on the supernatural activity that they saw. Before you think that this is just a list of Mackey’s regulars who may have tossed back one too many shots, or one too many falls from the electronic bull, these witnesses come from a cross-section of society, including Mackey’s patrons and employees, but also clergy and police.
The Haunting Continues
One of country music’s most active hauntings shows no signs of taking a break, according to the leader of a paranormal group that has been assigned to lead tours of the club.
Laura Roland, an investigator and cofounder of Gatekeeper Paranormal, has been giving tours and collecting evidence at Bobby Mackey’s Music World since July 2014. The team is now the official paranormal team at the bar. And they are convinced there is something paranormal going on. The range of supernatural activity experienced by the team goes from the benign to the somewhat threatening, although she doesn’t believe that there’s anything demonic going on in the site.
“We have captured several EVPs, we have had pebbles thrown, pieces of glass thrown—from broken bottles in the basement,” Roland reports in an email interview. “We’ve been touched, seen shadows and blue balls of light, and heard many footsteps and knocking.”
While some of the activity does seem aggressive, Roland doesn’t believe that demons or any type of malicious entity is causing the activity. It may just be a spirit’s way of saying hello.
“Even though rocks and pieces of glass have been thrown, I don’t consider that to be necessarily negative,” she writes. “It could just be the only way the entity can communicate or try to get us to notice he/she is there.”
It might not be a demon, but spirits in the dwelling are no one to be trifled with, she warns. A few people have reported being hit and scratched after they tried provoking spirits. Giving a rowdy ghost hunter his or her just deserts isn’t necessarily a sign of demonic activity either, the paranormal researcher said.
At one time or another, nearly all of the team members have felt a heavy presence in the building, one that made them feel unwelcome.
Roland says: “Having said all that … there have been times for each of us that we have walked in the building alone and turned around and walked right back out to wait for our tour group. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes there is just a feeling in the building that is unwelcoming. It doesn’t happen every time we go in. Each of us has spent time alone in the building and had nothing happen. But sometimes it’s just creepy. Could it be overactive imaginations? Sure. But maybe not.”
The group of researchers collected several theories about what is haunting the property—and it could be more than one ghost, they add. The site is the center of and near to several violent incidents that may lie at the root of the paranormal occurrences. For instance, it was a hotbed for gangster activity in the 1940s and 1950s and there were bar fights—some of them fatal—when the location was a Hard Rock Cafe in the early 1970s, according to the researchers. There are other tragedies—a fatal car crash just a mile away and the use of the bar’s dance floor as a temporary morgue after a devastating fire—that experts list as reasons for the haunted activity.
Bobby Mackey’s Music World may not so much have ghosts, but attract them. Roland reports that paranormal theorists have investigated whether geological anomalies might have something to do with the activity. There’s a layer of limestone and running water that may serve as a conduit—a haunted highway—of sorts for these roadhouse spirits. Investigators also report naturally high electromagnetic field (EMF) readings at the site, often an indicator for supernatural goings-on.
When the team gives tours, members use some of their research to shed light on the folklore that revolves around that haunting at the bar. For instance, there’s no historical evidence that Johanna existed. The murder most likely did not occur at the site, either. The two murderers may have passed by the site when they were trying to get rid of the body, but actually disposed of it a few miles away, the team members report.
A Toast to Nashville’s Ghosts:
Music City’s Haunted Bars and Clubs
While auditoriums, like the Ryman, and grand stages, like those at Opryland, represent the pinnacle of country music success in Nashville, most of the young up-and-comers, the fading stars, the has-beens, and the never-weres spend every night building—or recapturing—an audience on the intimate stages of the city’s thriving bars, clubs, and restaurants.
It’s on these boulevards that meet at the corner of fulfilled wishes and broken dreams that you’ll find some of country music’s most haunted tales. They are stories about the spirits of people who made it, and people who lost it, while pursuing their dreams of country music stardom. You’ll also find tales of lost loves and lost lives, and hints of Nashville’s violent past, a past full of conflict and war, greed and hunger.
Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge
We’ll start at one of the most famous clubs in Nashville and, perhaps, the most famous in haunted country music history—Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge.
Spirits—the ones on tap and in the bottles—attracted the stars headlining at the nearby Ryman Auditorium to walk around the corner to Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge. Some of those performers, though, are now spirits of a different sort, spirits who are attracting a following of their own from ghost hunters and people who are interested in what lies beyond in the afterworld.
Tootsie’s, a country music drinking tradition, began in the early 1960s when Tootsie Bess bought a bar named Mom’s. The “orchid” part of the title was added when a painter slapped a coat of purple on the bar—a total surprise to Tootsie. But, like everything, the bar owner rolled with the strange twist of fate.
Tootsie’s stage welcomed acts like Kris Kristofferson, Faron Young, Willie Nelson, Tom T. Hall, Hank Cochran, Mel Tillis, Roger Miller, Webb Pierce, Waylon Jennings, Patsy Cline, and many more. Lots of fortunes began here and lots of careers were made here. Willie Nelson got his first songwriting gig after singing at Tootsie’s.
But Tootsie also knew that there were broken dreams littered along the alley between the Ryman and her bar. People used to see her hand five or ten bucks to down-on-their-luck performers.
When Tootsie died in 1978, country music’s brightest luminaries, like Roy Acuff and Tom T. Hall, among other customers, showed up at the funeral to bid one of their favorite supporters so long. Country star Connie Smith sang hymns at the funeral.
Tootsie’s generous spirit is still felt in the club today, a few patrons say. They say they have the distinct impression that she is still watching over her beloved bar. For instance, whenever there’s a band or solo artist performing on stage, you’ll know that Tootsie approves right away if her ghost appears at the end of the bar. Others say that this ghost isn’t Tootsie, it’s Patsy Cline who is lending her support to the new burgeoning stars of country. Cline, as we discussed, held forth at Tootsie’s and never let the good old boys club of country music keep her from having a good time. Patrons remember Cline knocking a few back with the boys and cracking jokes with the best of them.
But Patsy and Tootsie are not the only spirits in the house, they are joined by at least one other country legend that we’ve talked about a lot in this book: the ole rambling spirit, Hank Williams.
Like some of the other spots where Williams has revealed his presence in Nashville, lots of witnesses claim to see the misty yet easily discernible figure of the lanky musical rebel perched on the barstool. In most cases, ghosts tend to be camera shy, but at Tootsie’s, Williams seems relaxed and ready for fans. Years ago, a photo of the odd apparition at Tootsie’s was reportedly passed around and featured in the media. Some say that the photo showed the ghost of Hank Williams. Other times, people have seen a guy who looks just like Hank Williams suddenly appear in a crowd at the club—and then, after a few blinks to check their vision—they say he simply vanishes. His spirit has also been seen in the alley that connects the Ryman with the lounge. It was a trek he knew well, from most accounts.
Williams, that rambling spirit, likes to stretch his legs a bit. People have seen Williams—dressed in slacks, cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved white shirt—walking the alley that leads from the Ryman to Tootsie’s. Witnesses say the ghost makes eye contact, nods his head, and then disappears.
Paranormal researchers aren’t sure who to attribute some of the other phenomena that folks have witnessed in this super-spirited lounge. Odd noises are reported and there are shadowy figures that dart through the dark halls and around the stages in Tootsie’s. Whether this activity is related to the ghosts of Tootsie or Williams—or any of the other thousands of souls who passed through the purple-encrusted doors of the establishment—we may never know.
Flying Saucer
It’s not little green men that people need to look out for when they head to the Flying Saucer Draught Emporium—one of Nashville’s favorite nightspots; it’s the ghost of an old man and a whole flask full of strange and supernatural activity that they must be wary of. But, by all accounts, the ghosts and the still-living patrons, staff, performers, and bar owners have reached a kind of peace with each other, even, it seems, embracing the presence of each other.
The bar, located on Tenth Avenue in Nashville, is near the center of Music City’s wild action, but it is right smack dab in an epicenter of even wilder supernatural action. After experiencing weird phenomena for years in the bar, management called in a group of expert ghost hunters, who quickly scheduled an investigation.
The management team filled in the paranormal investigators on the details of the activity. The list was lengthy. While people have experienced supernatural phenomena throughout the bar, it’s the billiard room that gets the most supernatural attention. The coin slots that feed quarters into the pool tables move in and out—on their own. Billiard balls slide across their table suddenly, too. You could blame that on uneven tables or floor, but objects don’t have to be on the billiard table in that room to slide around. The cue sticks fall, drinks topple off of tables, and chairs move across the floor, all as horrified patrons watch in open-mouth shock.
Television sets in the billiard room have another type of remote control, as in they are remotely controlled by unseen spiritual entities. The sets turn on and off and then change stations. The sets suddenly mute, or the volume inexplicably blares.
The most convincing piece of evidence came from members of the bar’s cleaning crew who say they often encounter the ghost of an old man walking around the bar. Other people have said they looked into the mirrors at the bar and saw not just their own reflection, but they also see an apparition whose icy eyes stare right back at them.
From all indications, the investigation was eventful to say the least. A manager of the Flying Saucer went along with the paranormal investigators. At one stage, as the manager held on to a digital thermometer, an investigator asked the spirit to make the temperature drop to signal its presence. The manager said they heard someone mumble and clearly heard the word, “try.” Then the thermometer showed that the temperature had dropped by ten degrees. It’s important to note that, according to the testimony of the manager, the voice they heard was not a type of electronic voice phenomena, where people claim to hear words in the static of a recording device that they either interpret or misinterpret as voices and words. They heard an actual disembodied voice.
Experts on this haunting say the most likely reason for the activity at the Flying Saucer is because the building was once part of Nashville’s famous train station, Union Station. The train station was the scene of numerous emotional homecomings. Soldiers returning from war would meet their loved ones in the station. Fans could go to Union Station to get a glimpse of their favorite country stars heading out or coming back from tours and performances, too. But there were other much more desperate reunions in the train station. In fact, the billiard room may be placed right where the baggage claim area of the notoriously haunted train station was once situated. In the aftermath of a horrible train wreck in the 1900s, local historians say the baggage area became an impromptu morgue.
The paranormal experts suggested that all of these highly-
charged emotions—the good and the bad—have been embedded into the space that is now the billiard room. The apparitions and the odd events that witnesses have reported over the years are just a manifestation of that spiritual energy that became entwined in one of Nashville’s favorite bars.
Hermitage Cafe
Nashville is a town of big dreams and sometimes, it’s a town of big broken dreams. All those dreamers—big and broken and everywhere in between—usually find themselves at one time or another at the Hermitage Cafe in downtown Nashville. Open all night, the restaurant attracts a diverse group of Nashville’s nightlife dwellers.
They are joined by the ultimate nightlife dweller—a ghost.
According to local historians, Shields Taylor owned the cafe until his death and then his wife took over. There are lots of patrons and workers at the restaurant who think that Taylor never left. The ghostly occurrences include a variety of poltergeist-like effects—moving objects and misplaced items—along with a few incidents of direct physical interventions by an invisible force. Some of the run-ins with the ghost are more violent than others, as we will discover.
Employees talk a lot about the pots and pans that typically hang peacefully in the kitchen suddenly start clanging together. Witnesses have also watched or listened to the doors shake violently, as if an intruder is entering. When they investigate, though, no one is there. Inexplicable knocking noises erupt throughout the cafe. Again, when people try to investigate, they are hard pressed to determine the source.
Whatever is haunting the cafe gets up-close and personal with patrons. Women say they have had their hair touched. It feels like a quick gust of wind blew their hair, they say. Guys, on the other hand, have felt more than a gentle hair play; a few male patrons say they were shoved.
People who are familiar with the haunting blame Taylor because the restaurant was pretty quiet, at least supernaturally speaking, until the former owner died. After that, people began to notice the paranormal outbreaks. Most long-time customers just put two and two together and agree that Taylor is the one haunting the site. Most of the phenomena is harmless, they add, making it seem more like the former owner just wants to make his presence known every once and awhile.
The Museum Club: The Supernatural on Display
Located in Flagstaff, Arizona, along the musically historic Route 66, the Museum Club is one of the region’s favorite country and western bars and, like the great country music songs that have filled the halls of this club over the past few decades, the club has been the scene of great joy and gut-wrenching tragedy. If you think that sounds like the perfect formula for a haunted country music club, you are absolutely right. The Museum Club is one of the most paranormally active country music bars in the nation.
Apparitions are spotted routinely in the building. Other witnesses report much more physically intimidating—and much more terrifying—spirit encounters.
Experts trace the origin of the haunting to the early 1960s when Don Scott, more famously known as the steel guitar player for Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys, bought the joint. They say that the musician stumbled onto what was billed as “the biggest log cabin in Arizona.” It’s hard to say what Scott saw in the place. It definitely had fallen on hard times. During its three decades or so of existence, the building served as a museum, a nightclub, a taxidermist shop, a trading post, and pretty much everything in between.
But Scott had an idea—and the connections to pull it off. His idea was to turn it into a successful country and western dance hall. As one of country music’s luminaries, he had the contacts to fill the club with acts, he figured, and the customers would follow. It worked.
His fellow musicians—people like Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, and Bob Wills himself—signed up to perform at the club, and the fans nearly busted down the doors to see them. The club became one of the most important stops on the “western swing” circuit. (The western part of “country and western” refers to western swing music, a jazz-influence genre of country music with an up-tempo and backed by mostly stringed instruments.)
Pretty soon, aspiring country musicians would make sure they booked a gig at the Museum Club as they made that well-trodden hopeful trek across the country, from Nashville to California. But it wasn’t just up-and-comers who came to the club. Sometimes, already established acts would pay a visit. Barbara Mandrell came into the Museum Club once and then jumped up on stage for an impromptu set. That happened lots of times—famous celebrities loved to perform these types of spontaneous informal sets at the club.
Don, whom everyone called “Pappy,” and his wife, Thorna, lived in an apartment above the club. Their lives literally revolved around the club. However, things were going so well that nobody saw the dark clouds on the horizon. The club’s demise began early one morning in 1973 when the couple was cleaning up and preparing to close after yet another successful night. Thorna finished up and was climbing the stairs to the couple’s apartment when, as she reached the top of the stairs, she tripped and fell. The accident broke her neck.
While she hovered between life and death in the hospital, Pappy was clearly distraught. After a few weeks, Thorna died. The death was too much for Pappy to take and although he tried to go on with his life, the loss of his wife caused him to slip into a deep depression. In 1975, Pappy was found dead in front of the fireplace, according to several sources.
Experts on the haunting now say that the property has been unsettled since those two tragic events. Numerous reports of supernatural activity have piled in, even as the new management has maintained the club’s position as a hot spot for country acts and great country music.
Some of the activity is benign and a little easier to explain away as unusual, but completely natural phenomena. For instance, that cool breeze across the neck that some patrons complain about. That could just be a draft. It’s a relatively old building and older places tend to have drafts. You can try to tell that to someone who has experienced the draft, but they might not fully accept your explanation. When witnesses feel that cold breeze, they say there is just something in the air—a chill, or an electric field—that makes them think this is more than just a crack in the paneling, or a draft from a window.
Other activity is harder to explain. For example, people hear the creak of the floorboards. While random board creaks and cracks are normal, witnesses say they can detect a pattern. The witnesses say it sounds like someone is walking toward them, or away from them, but that someone just happens to be invisible. There are others who say they can hear not squeaks and creaks of wooden boards, but definite footsteps.
Customers and workers have also reported that lights flicker in certain rooms, while, simultaneously, the lights remain steady in other parts of the club. But forget the electromagnetic displays for a second, there are actually stories that blazes can erupt in the fireplace all by themselves. In a more chilling display of occult power, chairs will rock on their own.
Skeptics have explanations for most of these events—loose wiring, the settling of an old building, etc.—but these same cynics of the supernatural struggle to explain the spirit of a woman that has been seen in the club. She most often appears in the back stairway and back bar, but has also shown up in booths situated in the darker areas of the bar.
The woman has such a physical appearance that customers often mistake her for a bartender and they order a drink. But when they look back again to pick up their drink, she’s gone. When the befuddled patron explains to a (living) employee what happened and start to describe the encounter, they are met with a knowing look and a weird reply: the bartender was the ghost of former owner Thorna Scott. Often an employee will show the witnesses a picture of the former owner and they’ll say that the woman in the picture is the person they saw in the bar. For effect, the staff member will add that the woman passed away decades ago.
You Only Need to Fear the Living. Really?
Not all encounters are this tame. One ghost apparently has an ironic streak as our next story demonstrates. One man who rented the upstairs apartment said the ghost of a woman jumped on his chest and pinned him to the floor. The ghost then told the man, “You only need to fear the living.”
The tenant did not take the apparition’s advice, however. As soon as the ghost faded from his view, the man didn’t even bother exiting through the door. He jumped up, dove out the window, and ran along the roof to safety.
He never came back. Can you blame him?
A bartender claimed that she, too, had felt the presence of the bar’s ghost, although, thankfully, the spirit didn’t feel the need to jump on her chest to get the message across. She said that she was starting her shift when she noticed that the bar was completely disorganized. Beer bottles had been moved out of their correct spots and liquor bottles were tipped over. She found that something moved the drink mixes. With no practical jokers around to fess up to the prank, the bartender pointed her finger of blame squarely on the spirits of the former owners, the Scotts.
The haunting of the Museum Club spans decades, but the phenomena continue, as recent reports indicate. One recent story is that an employee watched as the lights in the apartment were turning on and off. The typical knee-jerk skeptical response to this phenomena—that there is an electrical problem in the old apartment—was immediately taken off the table. Power to the apartment had been completely shut off. The employee revealed that the mystery was never solved.
Recently, one employee of the Museum Club reported that though the power in the upstairs floor has been shut off, the lights have been coming on more and more often. Others have reported also seeing the lights from the street while driving by late at night.
The mysteries—just like the great country music—keeps on coming at the Museum Club, it seems.