Ghosts at Fort Riley by Zina Abbott

 I'm not a big fan of Halloween, but I do enjoy reading about ghosts. More importantly, I believe the spirit world of the departed it not that far removed from earth. While most of the dead stay in that realm until it is time for them to move on to the next phase of their eternal life, many cling to the earth. Then again, I believe some so-called ghost sightings are actually occurrences in this physical world that, due to darkness and/or fog or mists, appear to be other-worldly. I'll let you decide for yourself.

 

Fort Riley in 1920

What I found interesting were a record of ghostly sightings involving Fort Riley in Kansas. Fort Riley has been in existence in one form or another since 1853. It has suffered several cholera outbreaks and was one of the ground zeros for what became known as the Spanish Flu pandemic. It also prepared and sent many soldiers, including George A. Custer, into dangerous situations.

On one of the Legends of America posts, I found a fascinating account of other-worldly sightings involving Fort Riley. Rather than plagiarize, I will give you the link and allow you to read what they offer for yourself. However, you might enjoy the following teasers first.

Camp Funston in 1918

Read about the ghosts associated with Camp Funston by Fort Riley due to the 1918 Flu pandemic. 

There were two major periods of cholera outbreaks that resulted in ghost sightings. One involved Cornelia Armistead, the wife of Major Lewis Armistead. Hoping to avoid his troops from catching cholera, he led them away from the fort. Within a short time, many of them became ill anyway. When he returned to the fort, he found his wife had died. Read about the sightings in the post cemetery.

Custer House today

Custer and his wife never lived in the Custer House on the fort today. Instead, they lived in housing at Sheridan and Forsyth Avenue that was similar to the Custer House still on the base. Although the current Custer House has its share of hauntings, read about the ghostly appearances that race across the old cavalry field only to stop at the location of the original Custer House.

Remains Old Trolley House

There are tales of haunting at the old Trolley House,

 

and the nurse in the Post Headquarters building. 

To find this collection of Fort Riley ghost sightings, please CLICK HERE. Be aware, this is a two-part article. The first part is a general history of Fort Riley. Keep reading, and you will find the ghost stories. 

 

My currently-published books do not have anything to do with ghosts, but several of them have a connection to Fort Riley.

In Hannah's Handkerchief, Hannah meets Jake at a celebration dance held at Fort Riley. You may read the book description and find the purchase link by CLICKING HERE.

 

In Hannah's Highest Regard, Hannah and Jake, after being separated for most of two years, reunite at Fort Riley. Please find the book description and purchase link by CLICKING HERE.

 

Mail Order Penelope  does not have much to do with Fort Riley other than she traveled close to there and was aware that the men who brought cholera to the forts on the Kansas frontier passed through the fort. She meets Marcus, a post surgeon who had temporarily transferred to Fort Hays to help with the large cholera outbreak at that fort. For the book description and link for this book, please CLICK HERE.

A WYOMING GHOST STORY: MISS KATE

With Halloween stories being conjured left and right I thought I’d share one of the local ghost stories. While not a scary tale, Miss Kate takes her haunting responsibilities seriously. 

Sheridan, Wyoming, nestled snug in the valley of the Bighorns, has its fair share of things that go bump in the night…And I’m not just talking about when the Burlington Northern goes through town at 1:00 in the morning.  Residents and visitors have reported specters of women “of an undesirable nature” roaming the rooms of Hotel Rex, where they used to do a lot moaning for a different reason.  The disgraced son-in-law of Buffalo Bill Cody is said to haunt the Sheridan Inn where he took his life, or it was taken from him as some people speculate.

There is one spirit who found a home at the Sheridan Inn in life and is determined to remain there through the next.  Miss Kate, as she is affectionately known around these parts, is by far the favorite apparition of Sheridan.

Catherine Arnold stepped off the train in Sheridan, Wyoming in 1901. She was a bright eyed twenty-two-year-old from Virginia. Kate walked across the dusty road from the Depot to the Sheridan Inn, once known as the finest hotel between Chicago and San Francisco. Once her feet crossed the threshold of the Inn, it seemed nothing and no one could keep the young lady and the gabled inn apart.

Miss Kate (courtesy of the Sheridan Heritage Society)

Miss Kate was beloved by staff and guests of the hotel. In her sixty-four years at the Inn, she served as seamstress, desk clerk, housekeeper, hostess and babysitter.  She kept a flower garden behind the Inn, which benefited diners at the Inn’s restaurant as they graced the tables. Though she never married, it seems Miss Kate had a crush on a local man. This we found when the Museum I work for took possession of many of the Sheridan Inn’s items and found an old ice cream carton decorated as a gift (to be used as a trash can) for the gentleman. After years of faithful service Miss Kate was forced to leave the Inn in 1965, when developers purchased the Inn with plans to tear it down. Locals saved the Inn and it was purchased and used for dining and dancing.

Front of Sheridan Inn (courtesy of Kirsten Lynn)

Miss Kate passed away in 1968, her one wish to return to the Inn.  It is said, she was cremated and her ashes buried in the wall of the room she occupied.  I can neither confirm, nor deny this part of the story.

Through boom and bust, Miss Kate has remained at the Inn even as it recently sat empty for a many months.  Under new ownership the Inn is being restored to accommodate guests, parties and receptions.

Miss Kate’s presence has been felt on a daily basis. She is known to repeatedly turn the lights off and on and open and shut doors.  Her presence is strong on the third floor, near her room, with cold spots being felt on that floor and throughout the Inn.  One local, reported seeing lights on and curtains open on the third floor, when they drove by at two o’clock in the morning.

As a personal aside:  My first year at the Museum, we were asked to remove all artifacts from the Inn and keep them safe until someone saved the Inn and bought it.  We arrived at the Inn and the director had kindly purchased coffee and doughnuts for us. After we ate, he announced: “Okay, this is how we’re going to dismantle the contents.”  The lights went off.  No one moved, and no one said the name we were all thinking. The lights came back on and we got to work.  We agreed to blame a faulty electrical system.

The Sheridan Inn plays a small role in many of my manuscripts, but not in my ghost story, THE BALLAD OF ANNIE SULLIVAN.  For Hank and Annie’s story, I chose the backdrop of the Bighorn Mountains and a lone cowboy at cow camp. After interviewing local cowboys, who spent some summers alone on the mountains, I started thinking about how that could start playing with a person’s mind…and how they might start imagining things…or not.  And if you’re going to have a crazy story, the Renner clan is the family to choose. So, if you liked RACE TO MARRY, you’ll enjoy catching up with Cal and Josie and meeting Hank, one of the boys they adopted.

Hank Renner enjoys summers and early autumns when he can escape his large family and spend time alone at the cow camp in the Bighorn Mountains. That is, until he starts seeing a beautiful woman with flaming red hair and brown eyes, who disappears as quick as the Wyoming sunshine. Questioning his sanity, Hank begins a search that just might lead him to his heart.

Annie Sullivan wants only one thing more than revenge for a rape and murder that occurred ten years ago…Hank Renner. Haunting the mountain, she’s kept watch over the handsome cowboy. But this year she did something she’s never done before, something that could change everything. She’s let the man see her—and exposed her soul.

Two lonely souls search for the truth that could solve a murder and a love that could resurrect their hearts.

AMAZON

Kirsten Lynn is a Western and Military Historian. She worked six years with a Navy non-profit and continues to contract with the Marine Corps History Division for certain projects. Making her home where her roots were sewn in Wyoming, Kirsten also works as a local historian. She loves to use the history she has learned and add it to a great love story. She writes stories about men of uncommon valor…women with undaunted courage…love of unwavering devotion …and romance with unending sizzle. When she’s not writing, she finds inspiration in day trips through the Bighorn Mountains, binge reading and watching sappy old movies, or sappy new movies. Housework can always wait. 

The Day I Met A Ghost

By Paisley Kirkpatrick

In 1849 three desperados were line up and hanged from a tree at the location where the Hangman's Tree Lounge stands, in Placerville, California. History has conflicting stories as to what their crime might have been. Some historians say it was probably robbery. Others are certain the desperados cheated at cards, and when they got caught, a ghastly fight ensued and it ended up in a murder. The three were buried behind the tree, now a parking lot beside Highway 50.

A monument marks the spot. It reads:

"Somewhere here lies the remains of

The three unfortunates hanged in late

1849 from the oak tree in the feed

corral. After a fair trial by the

vigilantes, this incident changed the

name of Dry Diggin's to Hangtown.

Let us not judge too harshly, for those

Were rough days of the Great Gold Rush."

Years ago, I worked in an art gallery located three building down the street from the Hangman's Tree Saloon and had to deliver something to one of the patrons. The owner had mentioned in an interview that one morning when she opened the saloon, she saw a man sitting at one of the tables in front of her. She went on to say he wore a black coat and a tall hat. Once she'd recovered from the shock at seeing a man sitting alone in the locked saloon, he'd disappeared.

When I read this interview, I smiled and nodded because I knew she spoke the truth. That day when I was inside the saloon, I also had an experience with this same ghost. I passed a tall man wearing a long black coat and a tall black hat as I walked into the woman's bathroom. He was on his way out of a hall and nodded to me as he passed. At the time, a vision of Abraham Lincoln went through my mind. When I mentioned seeing the man, who had immediately disappeared into nothingness, I got a nod from the bartender. I'd seen their ghost. He had a friendly air about him, and since I didn't realize at first that I had encountered a ghost, I wasn't frightened. Even after I learned who he was, I was more excited than alarmed.

Currently hanging by his neck from the second story of the building is "George" -- a mannequin, dressed in 1800's attire and with his hands tied behind his back. He's been a part of the town's colorful history for almost 70 years. Some complain about seeing the unusual sight, but the majority of the people who live in Placerville and most of the visitors to the town think he adds mystique and gives the town an impression of what it might have been like living there during the heights of the gold rush.

The last of my Paradise Pines Series books, Stealing Her Heart, is now released.

http://amzn.com/B010PCJIEG

In Paradise Pines, real men didn't read romance much less write it. That is until Liam O'Toole comes to town. Unfortunately using a woman's identity to write under might get him hung. Because of a misunderstanding, a murder charge could put a rope around his neck for his own murder.

Margaret Hennessey's homemade biscuits have homesick miners flocking to her table. To her utter frustration a misguided thief is stealing her biscuits only to pay with a romantically written IOU. When the town cook dies, the townsfolk need her to take over the cafe kitchen.

An intrigue involving hidden gold and a band of renegade outlaws drives Liam to become the hero he's always written in his books. How else can he save not only his muse but the fiery redheaded biscuit maker who's not only his muse but the woman he just might call his happily ever after.

Excerpt:

"Wherever ya are ya dirty rotten thief, I hope ya choke on me food."

Her beauty stole his breath, but her quick temper sealed his fate. He'd found his heroine. She stood so close he could have reached through the thick brush and touched her, but at the moment he struggled to breathe.

An older man stepped from the tent's interior and rushed toward her. "Margaret, what's going on?"

She stuffed the IOU into her apron pocket. "A biscuit bandit is prowling these woods, Da. He stole one off me plate, the scoundrel."

Her father reached inside the tent and pulled out a shotgun. He checked to make sure the chambers were loaded. "Don't ya worry, daughter, I'll put buckshot in his behind."

Not liking where the old man's actions headed, Liam hurried back through the woods and didn't stop until he reached the river. He sat on the bank and stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. Damn but that was good. He wiped the crumbs off his face with the back of his sleeve. In fact, he'd never tasted anything like it before. He would risk everything, including his life, to eat another. Maybe not today, but he'd be back first thing tomorrow.

He couldn't stop thinking about the redhead with the fiery temper. Before he'd left Dublin, he'd loved his share of beautiful women, but none of them compared to this daughter of Ireland. Her father called her Margaret. Hmmm. Margaret? Maggie? Meg? Yes, that was it. He would name his new heroine Meg.

Excited he'd finally found the inspiration for his heroine, Liam wanted to write. He hiked down the dusty road into town. The fresh mountain air stirred his muse to a frenzy. At least today it did. It amazed him how this beauty could conjure up all kinds of ideas, most of them about writing -- a few not so creative, but a lot more enjoyable to think about.

American River Inn

By Paisley Kirkpatrick

During the Gold Rush days of 1849, the American River Inn was situated in Georgetown, California. The hotel was constructed over a productive lode known as the Woodside Mine. Many pound-sized chunks of gold were found by the miners. It's been told that at one point as much as $90,000 was pulled from the earth within a two week period. Then, as if in retribution for the gold taken from its ground, the mine collapsed. Many of the hardworking men were trapped within its confines. It's believed that some are still buried under the American River Inn.

A gruff old miner haunts Room 5 at the inn. He abruptly makes his presence known on a whim, yet despite his disheveled appearance, he rarely has a frightening effect on the guests. He's of a tender nature, regardless of his hostile appearance. He loves three things -- honeymooners or happy lovers, Room 5 of the inn, and his long-dead girlfriend, for whom he is still pining.

A hearty soul, Oscar was a miner searching for fortune like thousands of others in this time of history. He was fearless in the rickety mine shafts and tapped off river channels. He had a perpetually romantic heart and foolishly gave it to a woman of the evening. As the tale goes, Oscar fell hard for a gold rush prostitute. He was well aware of her profession. In fact, that's how he met her. Many years her senior, he was smitten enough to dream of making her his wife.

When not searching for gold, he worked as a carpenter on this property so he could be near his lady love. History shows he was very jealous of her. A heckler, and former client of hers, constantly belittled her name. Words were spoken between the two men. A scuffle prevailed, and in the heated moments that followed, the aggressor shot Oscar dead on the steps of the American Hotel. His body died, but his spirit remained.

Many years later the inn was remodeled. The new owners found that Room 5 -- where Oscar's lady love lived -- was in very bad condition. The contractors who worked in the room said they were cold on a hot day. Something would brush past them, but nobody was there. Guests who stayed in that room admitted they actually had seen a ghost, but none of them were terrified of him even though he was gruff looking. He's a friendly ghost as he strolls through the rooms as if he belongs there.

A guest said that one night while they were snug in their bed, a dirty-looking miner type walked into their room, smiled at them, and left through the door. Oscar was known to always enter through the door that opens to the balcony and leaves through the door at the top of the stairs.

An interesting fact is that soon after Oscar's death a beautiful woman of the evening attired herself in her finest negligee and, with liquor in her hand, leaped to death off the balcony of the American Hotel.

The Incredible World of Gold Rush Ghosts by Nancy Bradley and Robert Reppert.

WHEN A GHOST HELPED SAVE A SCALPING VICTIM

Do you believe in ghosts and spirits? Josiah Wilbarger certainly did! Why wouldn’t he, when a spirit saved his life?

Josiah Pugh Wilbarger
and a son

On a hot August day in 1833, Texas settler Josiah Wilbarger and four other men were scouting territory near present-day Austin when they spotted a lone Comanche and gave chase. The brave escaped the party, and Wilbarger and the others turned back toward neighbor Rueben Hornsby’s cabin six miles away. At mid day, they decided to stop for lunch beside a small stream and give their horses a rest. Wilbarger, Tom Christian and a Mr. Strother unsaddled and hobbled their horses. Haynie and Standifer, wary of the Indian they had seen, decided to leave their mounts saddled and tied them loosely to a nearby tree.

The men started a fire to cook beef, and passed around cold corn pone. They were relaxed by the water when war whoops and rifle fire accompanied by flying arrows shattered their peace. The five men jumped behind trees and began firing, but the spindly scrub oaks offered little protection. Haynie and Standifer ran to their saddled horses. Wilbarger called out to them and they turned to see Wilbarger with arrows in both legs. He took a shot to the back of the neck which exited through the front of his throat, spurting blood, as Comanches surrounded him. Certain their friend was beyond help, Haynie and Standifer rode hard for Hornsby’s cabin.

At Hornsby’s, they sent a rider on to Wilbarger’s home some miles away to relay the sad news to Josiah Wilbarger’s wife, Margaret, and to rouse other neighbors. By the time men arrived from the surrounding area, it was too dark to retrieve the remains for burial.

As everyone slept that night, Sarah Horsby suddenly awakened from a dream that left her trembling. She woke her husband and told him of the vision of Josiah Wilbarger, naked and leaning against a tree. Her dream convinced her he was alive and waiting to be rescued. Reuben scolded his wife for waking him because he and the others had to rise early the next morning. He reminded her Comanches never left their victims alive, cutting throats to be certain they were dead. Sarah was unconvinced but went back to sleep.

Within a short time, the dream returned exactly as before. She awakened her husband and the other men. As she served them breakfast, she told them the dream was an omen and that they would find Josiah exactly as she had envisioned. She told the men to wrap Josiah in a sheet and bring him back for her to tend his wounds. The men scoffed at her vision. Reuben knew his wife was not given to irrational thinking, so he was less skeptical than the men with whom he rode. The mother of ten, Sarah had survived the rigors of frontier life and had more than her share of experiences with Comanches.

When the men arrived at the site, they immediately found the bodies of Christian and Strother. They buried the two while looking for Wilbarger. As they were about to give up their search for him, a rider spied what looked like an Indian leaning against a tree, naked, and covered with red war paint. The rider called to the others then raised his rifle to shoot. The naked man stumbled toward them and said, "Don’t shoot. It’s Wilbarger."

Though scalped, wounded in several places, and near death, Wilbarger was just as Sarah Hornsby said he would be. The rescuers gently wrapped him in the sheet Sarah had provided. Reuben held Josiah as they rode slowly back to the Hornsby cabin. Confident he would be found alive, Sarah waited with hot water, bear’s oil, and poultices ready. She nursed him for several days until he was able to be transported home on a makeshift sled.

Wilbrager described his ordeal. The bullet that passed through his neck temporarily paralyzed him, and he couldn’t resist the Comanches who attacked him. Not only did his injury convince the Indians there was no need to slit his throat, it also prevented him from feeling pain. However, he was alert as the Indians roughly stripped him and scalped him. He reported that it sounded like distant claps of thunder as they jerked the scalp from his head.

He fell unconscious until late afternoon. When he awakened, the paralysis had left his body and he experienced terrible pain. He crawled the few feet to the creek and remained in the cold water until he was numb. Before he fell into what was probably a comatose state, he crawled out to a sunny spot. When he awoke, he became aware of swarming blowflies feasting on his exposed wound. In hastily stripping him, the Comanche left him with one sock. He shooed the flies away and covered his head with the sock. He tried to move toward Hornsby’s, but managed only about six hundred yards. Believing his death was inevitable, he leaned against a tree and hoped for rescue.

A vision of his sister, Margaret Collins, who lived in Missouri, appeared to him. She spoke softly, "You’re too weak to go on, brother dear. You lie here and rest and help will come to you before another day is over." She turned and headed toward Hornsby’s cabin.

When Sarah described the woman in her vision, Wilbarger told her that was his sister. Weeks later, Wilbarger received a letter from Missouri. His sister Margaret had died the day before the Comanche attack. He firmly believed he saw his sister’s spirit that night, and that she not only gave him courage to hold on, but also alerted others through Sarah Hornsby’s dreams. People who knew both Josiah Wilbarger and Sarah Hornsby attested to their honesty and mental soundness, and believed their stories.

Josiah after being scalped

Wilbarger recovered from his wounds and lived another eleven years. From her silk wedding dress, his wife, Margaret Barker Wilbarger, 
made caps for him that he wore constantly.

After coming to Texas when it was a part of Mexico, the Wilbargers and Hornsbys joined Stephen F. Austin's 300 as Texas pioneers.

Wilbarger eventually operated a cotton gin near Bastrop. One day while walking through the building, he hit his head on a low ceiling beam. For most people, the event would have merely raised a bump. For Wilbarger, with no hair or scalp to pad the skull, the injury was fatal. He died on April 11, 1844.

Wilbarger's tombstone in
the Texas State Cemetery

A monument at Fifty-first and Berkman Streets in Austin marks the estimated site of the scalping. Josiah Wilbarger and his wife have been reinterred in the state cemetery in Austin. Sarah and Reuben Hornsby are buried in the Hornsby Cemetery at Hornsby Bend near Austin. (Baseball Hall of Famer Rogers Hornsby is a descendent of this pioneer family and is also buried in this cemetery.) Margaret Wilbarger Clifton, the spirit who saved her brother, is buried in Florissant, Missouri.

Now do you believe in ghosts?

Thanks to FROM ANGELS TO HELLCATS: LEGENDARY TEXAS WOMEN, by Don Blevins. Thanks also to other sources including THE HANDBOOK OF TEXAS ONLINE and Wikipedia.