Shanghaied

Our recent ghost endeavors have been a bit clumsy. And when I say clumsy, I mean drunk. We attempted a Scooter McQuades stake out, but ended up around 3rd and Burnside, blotto, taking pictures of each other on the dueling toilets in the Shanghai bathroom for ladies. I won’t post the results, but I gotta say, if I were to call it, the toilet furthest from the door is the more photogenic of the two. However, some photos from the downstairs bar are tactful enough for the more tender viewer.

William, carrying the moonball with infinite care, had the strange sensation that the warm object in his palm had retracted and was thinking deeply.

 

The Nipper could not think how to describe the moonball - its strange, funny ways, odd endearments, its comfort, and its beauty. "It was lovely," he said lamely.

Not that he meant to get into any more trouble - not he!

Subsequent to Amber’s noodle ram down, and the restroom photo shoot to follow, we at once recalled our initial destination and bolted to Scooter’s to get the skinny. We learned from Ghosts of Portland, Oregon, that Scooter McQuades is located over the site of a purported gangland massacre. Our buddy Todd Cobb reiterates the tale of two bar employees poking around the basement of Scooter’s whereupon their poking, they encounter such horrifying sights as a three-legged chair and smashed mirror. They listened. And what they heard was more than wind, and more terrifying than the three-legged chair and smashed mirror combined. It was a moan, long and drawn, a “human fog horn” coming from the tunnel entrance that points back toward Ringler’s. I'll let Cobb take it from here:

    Something was rumbling through the sealed passageway, coming right toward them, not just a wall of  sound, but a wall of panic, waves of it, a massive expression of terror rushing through the tunnel. They turned and ran for the stairs and just made the top before the torrent of glowing specters made their mad dash for escape, up from the basement and through the building toward the front door, but not quite making it. Like always, the forms dissipated a few feet from the exit, their cries trailing off until they were lost beneath the sounds of traffic on Washington.

Amber and I snaked the block outside Scooter’s, thirsting not for the whiskey ginger of Shanghai, but the dissipating forms of the tunnel. I snapped a few with the DSLR, but the only forms that seemed to dissipate where ours, as we indulge in the pursuit of jubilation, especially with respect to alcohol consumption. We are the para-normal, the earth mysteries, the clouds of suspicion.
 

Keep Your Voice Low And Be Sweet

If you’re Amber and Sean’s dad, and you read about an abandoned building outside La Grande, Oregon that has lived many lives, ranging from a hot springs resort, to a hospital, to a nursing home, to an insane asylum to a fine dining establishment, the first thing you think to do is pack up your teen-aged children, drive to the mysterious monument toting flashlights and a camcorder, break through the rubble in the middle of the night and see what kind of general unease ensues.

And it’s a good thing he thought to do so, because the EVP caught on the third floor of Hot Lake Hotel trumps anything I have ever heard on any of those ghost hunting shows. It’s crisp and clear, actually overpowering the audio, and is in direct response to the conversation taking place at the time of recording.

hallway, third floor

Hot Lake Hotel has a lively history with all the traditional elements of spook necessary for some spectacular hauntings. All sorts of innovative medical procedures, in the vein of 1917 style radiation, were performed there and a fire burned a large portion of the third floor in the mid 1930's. Because weirdo medical practice and blazing fires seem to be two motifs that make up a good ghost story, Hot Lake Hotel really nails it in the field of paranormal intrigue. The icing on the ghost cake is the countless deaths on and around the property. Many folks died from illness during their hospital stay, while others wasted away in the insane asylum. Those who managed to survive the fire did so by jumping out the windows, unfortunately, the hot springs below the windows are about 200 degrees. Heat wins every time.

There are lots of the usual ghost stories surrounding the Hot Lake Hotel - reports of piano playing coming from the ballroom, unidentified footsteps heard from floors above and an assortment of orbs captured on film (although, big time paranormal investigators tend to discredit the orb as proof of something paranormal and I’d say anyone who knows anything about a camera lens would as well). However, what I find most fascinating about the building is that it was never emptied of its furniture and surgical equipment. All three floors are littered with scraps of the items that filled the rooms when the building was occupied. There are tables and lockers and light fixtures and a whole room filled with paperwork and receipts, clipboards and documents. A rusty surgical table was left in the middle of the third floor hallway, a metal incubator, equipped with a tragic, drab baby mattress left in a dark corner. It’s as if the Hot Lake Hotel dwellers literally fled the grounds.

 welcome!

lobby

ballroom

In the past couple years, someone has actually bought the building and the first floor is once again a functioning restaurant. Last I read, the plan was to get the other floors renovated so the hotel could once again be used as such. I won’t be renting a room there anytime soon.

Anybody who has spent a decent amount of time with Amber and myself have likely seen the Hot Lake Hotel footage, but I decided to pull the EVP clip out and stick it here, because it’s really what sparked a lot of our interest in the paranormal. Besides, it’s worth a second watch because it’s pretty unbelievably kick ass.