The world of the paranormal is quite an unpredictable one. One doesn’t just go into a place expecting for an otherworldly experience to happen and it does. Or necessarily believe in it at all. It happens when you least expect it, at least in my experience. Although I’ve been a believer since childhood, my first introduction with spirit wasn’t until college. I suppose that timing is quite appropriate when you attend college in the oldest and one of the most haunted towns in the nation. Little did I know, my world was about to be completely opened up for future experiences to come.
The Old Jail – St. Augustine, FL
When Henry Flagler opened up the Ponce De Leon Hotel in 1891, he vowed to make his new hotel a safe and pleasant experience for his patrons. In doing so, a secure stronghold was built to hold the nation’s worst criminals. Because of the beauty already held by the St. Augustine area, Flagler matched it by masking the outside of the prison as a Romanesque Revival style Victorian House. In researching this old landmark, it’s even more crazier to find out how current the cells were occupied, just ceasing it’s operation as a functioning jail in 1953!
My experience with the Old Jail begins on a late fall night, my freshman year at Flagler College. I had invited my high school buddies up for a fun filled ghost hunting night, hoping to take my mind off of the start of freshman classes the following week. I’ll say my mind did just that prior to the start of the tour when our lovely tour guide instructed us to sign a waiver (rightly so!), as there had been a history of guests fainting and experiencing heart attacks, to which my anxiety- ridden brain, filled with both excitement, yet fear, immediately questioned how likely that was to happen because I couldn’t afford it!
The tour itself is done in the form of a spirit investigation. I can’t tell you my excitement when I was first given a spirit box (a radio that picks up on Electronic Voice Phenomena (EVPs) and allows you to communicate with spirits). You’re completely given free range of the jail, as your only given the instructions to not torment the spirits (don’t be Ghost Adventures’s Zak Bagans!), and basically left to your own devices. Making our way through the old sheriff’s office and his daughter’s room, which consisted of an allegedly haunted doll (my worst nightmare), my friends and I didn’t pick up on anything…. that is until the end of the night.
The ghost hunt came to it’s terrifying conclusion in Maximum Security, which we were told to meet in at the end of the night. Sitting around a picnic table, along with my friends and our tour guide, we were taken through a reenactment of what would go on in the most active part of the jail. Suddenly, I heard breathing, and could feel a breeze on the back of my neck, as I quickly sensed someone or something behind me. When I glanced over at the tour guide, her eyes were wide and she told us to get out of the building immediately. Legging it, we run out of the jail, only when we’re all out does the breathless tour guide exclaim “Guys. In my full year of doing this, that has never happened before. Ever.”
Safe to say, in those few years I did live in St. Augustine, while at Flagler. I vowed never to set foot near or in that jail again. A part of me wonders what it would be like to go back there. Would the spirits that aggressively scared us out still be waiting for another try?
Flagler College – St. Augustine, FL
Ah, Flagler College. The prettiest campus in the south, as well as the personally best undergrad experience I could have ever asked for. For more ways than one!
Not only does Flagler College tower over the entire downtown of St. Augustine, with an absolutely gorgeous view of the bell tower as you drive in from the Bridge of Lions, it’s Spanish Renaissance architecture is seeped with otherworldly visitors admiring (no evil-willed spirits here that I know of) the ever expanding grounds of what once was their vacation dwell.
Growing up in Florida, I took many a field trip to St. Augustine as a child, devilishly hanging off of the tour trollies with my schoolmates. It wasn’t until it was time to fully embrace my academic future, that I even considered attending Flagler College, after a childhood friend was currently attending there, and hearing how immersive one got in the rich history surrounding it (plus, the ghosts).
To know the beginnings of Flagler College, one needs to meet the captain of our ship, Mr. Henry Flagler, a railroad tycoon whose greatest accomplishment was building the Florida East Coast Railway, which covers 351 miles of track, from Jacksonville to Miami. He would go on to build the Ponce De Leon Hotel, in operation from 1888 to 1967 (now the girls’ dorm of Flagler College), as a luxurious getaway for wealthy Northern guests.
My ghostly experiences actually begin in my freshman dorm room, a room still left historically untouched with a marble fireplace and beams from the hotel of yesteryear it once was. Literally minutes after my experience at the Jail, I come back to my dorm and tuck into the top bunk of my bed, situated in a corner nook, only to see the outline of Henry Flagler’s face on my wall adjacent to the bathroom. What I thought could be explained as a trick of the light of the headlamps outside and my late night sleep deprived self, the ghostly experiences would only become more real and unexplained as my time at Flagler went on.
Here we were. A classmate and myself were studying late into the early hours of the morning for a history final, as one does whilst in college. Tucked into a study room with literally the dorm hall completely silent outside, we decide that 2:30-3amish (can’t quite recall the exact time) was enough and that we would just make our way back upstairs to our rooms and get some sleep. That is, until we start packing up and we hear a distinct noise that would certainly not be coming from any modern college student. What sounded like an old time 1900s classical concerto, or something that would come from a jewelry box, was heard from right outside the study room door. As it was see through, almost like a restaurant kitchen door, there clearly wasn’t anyone else present, and my friend and I clearly looked at each other wide-eyed and scurried back to our rooms.
My last experience, and honestly my favorite, takes place on the fourth floor, at once was forbidden at the time because of construction. The fourth floor of the Ponce De Leon Hotel (as previously mentioned is now the girls’ dorms) consists of the gorgeous Solarium, a massive parlour, which gives an incredible 360 view of the town of St. Augustine. It has been closed and under remodel when I first attended and notably rumored to be the most haunted area of the college. Henry Flagler’s mistress had hung herself up there. As college kids do when they have nothing better to do and are into spooky stuff, it was known that people would sneak up there to look into the peep hole of the massive wooden door to see the construction inside. I, unsurprising to no one, was one of those people. A few of my pals and I made our way up there and glanced into this dark musty construction space, which consisted of a chair facing to it’s left, it’s silhouette lit from the window behind it. After a few minutes, everyone else decided to check out because nothing was happening. I started to go with them, until something held me back. As we were walking away, a feeling pulled me back in, urging me to look through the peep hole again. What I witnessed, made me grin, develop chills, and feel like the coolest person alive all at the same time. The chair that was sat in front of the window only went and completely changed direction, now facing to it’s right!
Now I totally understand how at the time of my years at Flagler College, that the administration would go as far as deny it’s otherworldly guests to the public (but then again, why deny anything when you’re literally smack dab in the middle of the most haunted city in the nation), but would you want to disrespect anyone who just wanted to make sure that Henry’s grounds were properly looked after, or just wanted to stick around to see how the future remembered it’s past?
The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel – Los Angeles, CA
It’s been said that Los Angeles has a dark underbelly beneath the bright lights and glamorous personas. When I lived there, I could feel it the entire time. I didn’t even have live there when I experienced my first demonic experience, but my stay at the famed Roosevelt Hotel, on Hollywood Blvd, is proof positive that the troubled celebrities of the years of old, who once roamed there, never actually left the city where they met their sad ends, perhaps as a warning sign of what can happen if you don’t leave as well.
Taking it’s name from President Theodore Roosevelt, the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel’s luxurious interior and exterior quickly became a flock for the Hollywood elite when it opened it’s doors in 1927. From the likes of Marilyn Monroe to Elizabeth Taylor, I can almost positively say that everybody who has ever stepped foot in Hollywood, actor and creator alike, as well as their brothers, have been to the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.
About a year before I moved out to Los Angeles, my family decided to meet up with our West Coast family, in Los Angeles and stay at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. A dream come true, I thought, that was until I experienced what could be the farthest of dreams that night. In proper Spence fashion, I wanted to know who had made their marks at the hotel, but I never actually expected (I don’t know why!) to get a haunted history lesson from it. Most notably, Marilyn Monroe’s presence in Room 229, and famed Hollywood Golden Age actor, “From Here to Eternity’s”, Montgomery Clift, who is known to roam the 9th floor, reciting his lines from the film, as well as messing with the thermostat and radio of Room 928.
Very excited about this new found information and happily sleeping under the watchful eyes of the departed “stars”, I was unpleasantly awakened by the image of a demonic Marilyn Monroe who, in her infamous white dress, floated over to me in this dream, with spiraling, demonic eyes and a horrifying demonic glare. I wish I could have listened to her, as Iooking back, I could just feel it was a warning of what was to come.
The Queen Mary – Long Beach, CA
The date was September 26th, 1934. A ship that was now known as the largest ship in the world launched it’s sea legs in Scotland, going on to make 1001 transatlantic crossings until finding it’s anchor on the dock of Long Beach. Now so beautifully used as a full service hotel on the water, while still upholding it’s mark on history and the world, with it’s remarkable 1920s-30s use of Art Deco. Plus, having the longest hallway of any ship in the world, which is where one of our spooky accounts take place.
Soon after I moved to Los Angeles in 2016, my mom, sister, and I took a weekend trip to Long Beach, CA, about 20 miles south of Downtown Los Angeles. My mom insisted that we go explore the Queen Mary, and after revealing her (the ship’s) importance to the high seas and the royals, I quickly agreed. Walking up to the massive ship, I then understood how perhaps the people boarding the Titanic first felt, full of awe and hope. I just wish that the Titanic and it’s people could experience the same future as their successor. Before you board the ship, you and your party are greeted with massive banners of the ship’s current attractions. My eyes gleamed with glee at the look of the ‘Haunted Encounters’ tour banner, to which I proclaimed “Alright, we can go see the Royal Family exhibit, but we WILL go on this here ‘Haunted Encounters’ tour (This also being said by an avid studier of the British monarchy. Clearly though, we know where my heart really and truly lies.)
The tour began with a gentleman dressed in an old-timer shipman’s uniform, addressing the small group of tourists. We were lead through the main floor, where the gentleman recalled the saddest part of the ship’s history, the history of a little girl apparition that now inhabited the ship’s indoor pool, roaming aimlessly along it’s deck. A few years prior to my visit, the doors were closed and forbidden to the public, even in private tours, once the little girl didn’t seem as sweet as she looked.
Our first spirit encounter happened deep in the belly of the ship’s hull. Feeling a sense of peace from the ship and it’s long departed crew while in the hull, I felt completely calm and protected. Our guide continued to recount stories and my family was scattered around the area listening intently (while I was staring at the front of the hull to get a sense of who the spirits were). That is until we heard a screech from two young ladies, which sent my sister running to the other side of the hull in surprise, and me cracking up. “Did you touch me?” “No, why would I?” The guide pipes in. “Ladies, did you just have an experience?” I was on the floor in tears of laughter.
Out of the many special unique interior features, the most documented would probably be the Queen Mary’s longest hallway, the longest hallway ever documented on a ship. While instructed to line up against the wall, as to not get in any passerby’s way, we were told about a lady spirit who likes to make herself known at the end of the long hallway, by just walking into sight and then disappearing into thin air. Suddenly, I feel cool air right in front of my face and a light pressure on the cartilage of my nose. Was it this lady that roams the end of the hallway?
Grandma’s Spirit – Los Angeles, CA
Growing up, I was extremely close to my grandma, my mother’s mother. We shared the same views, the same griefs in the world, as well as becoming a sort of confidant for each other until the end of her life. After my dear grandmother passed away in the summer of 2018, I knew that her spirit was not necessarily put to rest, or at least not so permanently.
My grandmother still stood immortalized in the many pictures taken throughout her life, as well as the ones in the later half of her life. I remember her being so elegantly dressed into my teens years, with any special event including her wig and clip-on costume jewels. One picture that always stood out was the picture taken of my entire family (very small in number) at my Bat Mitzvah. It was a picture that I had carried with me when I moved out to Los Angeles and had displayed on my room desk until her death, to which I then put it away in a box on my DVD shelf to not upset me while I mourned.
2019 was both the year of realization, redemption, and the start of my healing journey, and on one of the lowest days of that year, I guess someone thought she needed to pay me a visit.
I was sitting at my desk, next to the door out to my porch, when I felt a cool breeze. The air conditioner certainly didn’t blow that way, the porch doors definitely WERE NOT open, as wasn’t the bedroom or bathroom door, so there was no way for any air to flow in or out. Suddenly, in the faintest voice possible, I hear, “Hello, dear.” I freeze. My eyes grow wide. I smile sadly and then literally squeaked out shakily, “Heeeey… Grandma.” There’s no doubt in my mind that my grandma is one of my guardian angels and that day set that in stone. That’s the only time she’s ever visited me in that form, but I feel like it was a reminder to let me know that she was still beside me. Almost a year to the day since she moved on from her earthly life to the next.
Halloween 2020 – Los Angeles, CA
After an incredibly fun-filled Halloween celebration with my horror community loves, I prepared for sleep, in excitement to ring in my 27th year the next day (Yup, ya dude was born the day after Halloween, which literally should explain all there is to know about me!) So I get into my bed and close my eyes, but weirdly can’t get to sleep. If you know anything about Halloween and it’s origins (or simply would like to learn something new today!), the day is also referred to as All Hallow’s Eve, the day where the veil between the mortal and spirit world is lifted and the spirits walk among us once again for the night. The special circumstance about Halloween 2020 was that it fell on a full moon. So basically there was no veil. Everyone and their mother was in the mortal world. All bets were off. Anyway, back to my experience.
I’m usually asleep when my head hits the pillow. Not that night. There was something in my room. “Mom?” I gasped and nearly rolled out of my bed as the sound hit my ear. “MOM? OH HELL NO!” I was frozen as I looked around the room to total darkness. Was this a little boy who was looking for his mother (Who I certainly am NOT!), or was this a demonic entity crouching in the shadows, playing a trick? It’s known that demonic entities can take the form of spirit children to wreck havoc on the living. Hand on my heart, I couldn’t tell you.
Spencer's House of the Otherworld 