Ghosts Of Alton

When John called that October my mind was busy with work stuff. I listened and responded, but it was more of a reflex then my best listening skills. "Great, will be fun, send me the information" and I hung up. Later on the drive home I realized what I had said yes to. Still not 100% wrapped around my brain, at dinner I dropped the news to Kristy. "Hey John bought us tickets to a ghost tour in Alton, "The Most Haunted Town in America' ohooohoooo" and with the fast look in her eye's I realized I would be going alone.

Before the night out in late October, Kristy had bailed out and my new date was John's mother-in-law. The weather had been warm days and cooler and cooler nights. As I pulled up to the Masonic Lodge in Alton I thought to myself, "what have you got yourself into?" and in I went. Down stairs I caught up with John, his wife and her mom. We ate by candle light in the basement, canned corn, a slab of ham and rolls. Within 20 minutes we started the tour. First in the basement of the old Masonic Lodge, with stories of prisoners chained in the basement and run away slave stories – more story than any real ghosts or weird things. Amazing what dirt floors, rusting pipes and being a few feet underground can do to the imagination.  

Next we went to the great room at the top, the large ceremonial room. Here too, lots of stories of weird sounds and of a ghost that left "butt prints" in the chairs up top. At this point I started to look at my watch and think "ok when is it polite to bow out, 10 minutes more? 15?" 

Then, well something happen. 

We went to a smaller meeting room, filled with chairs. Maybe a 20 by 20 room. Thirty of us went in and sat down. The people giving the tour said very little, except that they would turn the lights out for 5 minutes. One of them would be in the room the whole time and if anyone need to leave just get up and head to the crack of light at the door. Lights went out.

I have read so many things on ghosts and the effects things like dark rooms can have on the mind. I was expecting something like this, something that was nothing but all in our mind. As I sat there I could feel the sense that who ever was next to me was not a happy person. I could hear movement in their seat, a back and forth kind of rocking sound. Breaths that were low and well, mean sounding. Then I felt a nudge with a stick, or cane, or something hard like a boney finger. Not once but twice. On the third time I reflex grabbed at it. Nothing there. With that I said loudly "hey knock it off that hurt…" the room was quite and then I heard a low, very low and old and grumbly "leave…" 

I needed no more of this ass and his goofing on me and I was at the door in two or three strides. As I reached the door the person giving the tour turned on the light. He said "you met him did you?" As I turned and pointed to the corner where I had been, the seat next to mine and a little to the back, in the corner near no door, no windows was an older looking chair. No one sat in it. I hadn't even noticed it when I sat down. He said I had been jabbed by the resident masonic ghost of one of the founders. I was pretty weirded out by that short interaction, but I know what I felt and heard. 

As we left the building I went to the rest room, down a long hall. There were tons of old pictures and for whatever reason one caught my eye. Just a second of time in a glance and there was the room, there was the chair and in it sat a old, mean, wrinkled man with a cane. In his eyes I could see anger, pain and well meanness. That is who I felt was next to me. I skipped the bathroom and ran to catch up with the group.

As I walked up John and our small band were getting in a van and being taken to our next stop. There were about 8 to ten people in our smaller short tour group and one guide. We were all asking questions "where next? What will we see?" and he said very little just that we should be respectful of the home we are about to go into and treat the home owners kindness, they were opening their doors to us to hear about their lives and events. 

I was the last to walk in the door, it was cold out and much warmer inside. It was a large old victorian home, with a larger oak door and the old leaded glass in the frame – heavy and it closed with a thud. As I walked in we were all in the front landing area with a large wooden staircase heading up to the second floor. We were all getting into a place to stand when, all of a sudden I saw what looked like a women at the third step from the top. She was in a pinkish gown, something almost formal and most defiantly not of this age. She quickly walked up to the second floor landing, turned and bent down a bit looking at us, a slight smile on her face. Blond hair and dark eyes, she looked both old and young, sad and well kind. Then she whipped back around and down the hall, then she was gone.

I think I was the only one that saw her and this little interaction. This was all in seconds. Before anyone said anything, with the home owners on the bottom stair about to say something I blurted out "is it a women? Does she hang out at the top of the stairs? Is the entity that lives here with you a women in a pink gown?" It blurted out of me, almost as if I had no control. The tour guide was about to scold me when the man said "well yes, did you see her?" I nodded yes and pointed up. 

Everyone looked at me like, what the … was I a plant or something.

The home owner went on to say that "Jane" as they had come to know her by lived here many, many years ago. She was an older women but she had retained a youthful look. The gown I saw was a party dress she loved and was buried in. The best they could figure was, this was where she felt the most love and warmth, she had stayed mainly on the second floor and from time to time she would stand there at the third step from the top to watch people coming and going. Few people outside the family had seen her and that I was lucky, she must have felt safe showing herself to me.

With that I said "and she smiled at me, it was a nice smile." 

We soon left the house, I stood in the landing area and said to the husband and wife, "she loves it here and she is thankful for all your love and care of her home and for letting her stay." I have no idea why or where that came from, but it felt right. They hugged me and I was out the door. 

In a daze I stepped into the van and we were off to our next stop, the McPike Mansion. It was dark, no power to the building. As the van stopped outside the tour guide said that we should go inside and have a tour of the mason. While it was in ruins now the hope was to bring it back to its once beautiful days. Afterwards we should walk around outside, and he handed out flashlights. He said "stay quite as you walk around. If you see anything, don't say anything to anyone just keep it to yourself and when you get back to the van quietly tell one of us on the tour." OK I thought to myself. 

Inside the mason was a wreck. The only lights were a few candles in a gift shop like area. The place smelt like urine and rotting wood. It was wet, cold and I did not stay long inside. So John and I went out side and walked around the out side. It was a big old brick building. All the windows were covered with wood and painted black. It was right out of a horror movie, but I was with my buddy and well its just an old smelly building.

We had our flash lights on, mainly on the ground. I think John had said jokingly " didn't these old homes have wells?" as if we could step into one. We were about three fourths away around back when my flash light caught an image of someone. The person was low to the ground, crouching next to a tree and next to a bush. My light had not hit it straight on, more like five feet in front and washed the light on them. 

What I saw was an Native American. He had two feathers hanging on side of his head, with white paint on his face in stripes. He was bear chested and had a necklace of some type around his neck, he had no shoes on. I had seen his eyes, they were dark and it felt like he was fearful of us. 

I spun around and put the light right were he was and he spun and jumped up and was gone. Even the bushes moved. I ran a little forward, without saying anything. There were no foot prints on the wet muddy ground and I heard no foot steps as if someone was running away. Just the quite of the night and a slight wind.

Back at the van I told them what I had seen and later they shared with the group the findings. John had seen something too, but it was less clear and defined as what I had seen. They told me that the ghost that walked the property was a Native American and I had seen him that night. 

As I drove home that evening I realized that I was wiped out tired. I had gone without really thinking much about what the night would be like or what I would experience. I had great fun with John and everyone, but in the back of my mind I wondered what it was I had seen and left that evening. I have not talked much about it since then, this is my first real account I am sharing. 

Something had happen that night, and the smile at the top of the stairs has stuck with me all these years.

*****

Happy Halloween everyone, hope you enjoy my "trick or treat" gift of a ghost story! David Carrithers is a collector of ghost stories and tales of the unusual. He really enjoys hearing first hand ghost stories. The above story is real and it happened to David just as he has retold it here. 

Tour info: https://www.altonhauntedtours.com/