Saraphina's Blog

“Opening Night”

We held the first Ghost Tour of the season on June 3^rd 2005.  I went along as a guest to get the feel of the tour.  We went into the Hermitage, and although nothing happened that night, I had an overwhelming experience there.  The air felt too heavy, too sweet, and far too charged with energy. I was lightheaded and “stupid,” I felt drunk.  I had to sit down. The feeling abated after a few very long minutes in the lobby and vanished altogether when we left the hotel.  But it was certainly a big HELLO from the spirits there.

At Skull’s Rainbow Room, the doorway there held its fair share of chills a trembling wave rushed through me as I stepped into the dank, dark alcove. 

On my first tour, no such dramatics happened at the Hermitage.  I began with the Nashville Ghost Tour on June 11^th 2005.  It rained.  It rained cats and dogs by the time we got to Printer’s Alley.  We were soaked to our skin, but all having a great time.  I hardly noticed the strange sensations when I stepped into the recessed doorway of the Rainbow Room with two young guests. They were eager to experience it, but wanted some moral support…and the comforting light of my lantern. I joined them inside. We held our breaths, our hearts beating.  It was my first tour and I was a tad nervous. I was about to lead them out when we heard it. Footsteps and the loud creak of old floorboards just behind the door.

“Did you hear that?”

One girl shrugged. “Yeah there’s someone back there, so?”

 I lifted my lantern and showed her the large shiny padlock on OUR SIDE of the door.  Her eyes widened and both of the girls went pale.

The footsteps moved away, and we let our the breath we realized we’d been holding.

“I think it’s time to go,” I told them. They nodded emphatically and we backed out of the doorway slowly.

Wow, I thought to myself, I had an occurrence on my first night. Talk about a warm welcome to the Ghost Tour.

“Juliet? Is that you?”   Wednesday, June 13th 2005 was the night I saw the girl on the Hermitage Hotel balcony.  She was standing there, one hand resting on the railing. She seemed to be looking down on us, or perhaps, waiting for her Romeo.  Initially, I didn’t think too much about it, just some dark-haired woman on the mezzanine level.  But I realized I had never actually seen anyone up there, so out of curiosity, I glanced up to look. In a fleeting instant, she had turned away from the railing and walked away. Then vanished entirely. I realized as she turned away, that I could see a head of rich, dark hair, rolled back from her face. Very much like Scarlett O’Hara’s when she goes to the barbeque at Twelve Oaks.  Just below, there was a pale creamy shoulder that vanished into a portrait collar of ivory Chantilly lace and pale aqua silk.  I saw the barest hint of an outline of a wide hooped skirt before she was gone. By the time I had even opened my mouth to speak she had disappeared. I pointed, everyone looked and took pictures, but our Belle of the Ball was gone. But I am keeping my eyes peeled for her every night.  I can see why that Hermitage employee has such a crush on her; she was a spellbinding young lady.

“Normally, we charge extra for that!”   I believe it was the tour of June 22nd 2005 that Nashville Ghost Tours had its first physical encounter.  I had a pretty good sized group and they were starting to get a little tired as we made our way from Printer’s Alley down to the Ryman Auditorium.  One lady in particular, a sweet grandmotherly woman in a stunning red pants suit, was bringing up the rear.  We had just passed the parking garage at One Nashville Place on 4th Street when I heard a yelp then a short scream.  Immediately, I stopped to tour to see what was wrong. The woman’s daughter told me her mother had tripped but she was all right so we continued. When the tour was over, they both came to me with grave faces. The lady told me that was we were coming on towards the parking garage, she felt someone grab her bottom.  It wasn’t a hard grab or a pinch, but like someone decided to “cop a feel” as they walked past.  That’s when she yelped.  She screamed when she turned around and found that she was the last person in the tour and the block was entirely empty.  We don’t have anything detailed about that block, only that it was part of the old Red Light District that ranged from Union St. to Broadway and from 4th St. to the Cumberland River. So, I suppose some salty gambler was getting his jollies or some salacious tart was feeling frisky.  Either way, the only thing injured was the good woman’s dignity.  I make sure to tell off the offending spirits about getting fresh with old ladies whenever I pass that spot.  So far, nothing else has happened there. But if it becomes a regular thing, we may have to start charging for it!

“Ask not for whom the bell tolls…”   Saturday July 9th was a pretty large tour. It had been several weeks since anything extraordinary had happened, so I should have known I was in for it.  We had left St. Mary’s of the Seven Sorrows and were headed into the plaza on the way towards Printer’s Alley.  One of the young girls on the tour suddenly stopped and said, “Hold on a second.” Nothing happened.  Conversation resumed.  Then we heard one long toll of a very nearby church bell. As if it were scripted, we began talking again, then all stopped at once when the realization hit us.   WE HEARD THE BELL!   Official bell toll time was 9:10pm. There were a few skeptics in the group who did indeed hear the bell but could not believe the source.  There are no other churches nearby and in the weeks I had been giving tours I had not heard any bells rung at night ever. And what church would give one single ring of one bell at ten minutes past nine o’clock at night? The skeptic asked me what did it mean? “It means that Nashville’s haunted, sir. And that you definitely got more than your money’s worth tonight!” I wanted to tell him: “The bell tolls for thee” but I didn’t think he’d get it.     “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”   -John Donne, Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, 1624.

“Supernatural A/C”   Not only was Thursday, July 22nd 2005 extraordinarily hot and humid, it was also a full moon.  Lucky me. But nothing really strange happened other than that I took some pretty shameless advantage of a ghostly phenomenon. You see, the doorway of Skull Shullman’s Rainbow Room usually exhibits some freaky behavior.  Aside from the general feelings of unease and spookiness there, it often feels like the A/C is blasting and the door is wide open. The door is, in fact, quite tightly shut and well pad-locked and there is no A/C running in the boarded-up building.  I mentioned this on a tour a few nights previous and one of the employees of the bar next door (the New Orleans Blues and Boogie Bar that uses the closed-down Rainbow Room for storage) chimed in to tell the tour just how awfully cold it is inside that place at all times, no matter what temperature it is outside. So on Thurs. night in the sweltering 90 degree heat and 100% humidity, we all vied to stand in front of the Rainbow Room’s doorway to feel the waves of chilly air rolling out of it.  I told all the tales standing right there, and if we got off topic, the air flow stopped until I started talking about Skull again, then it came right back. I mean talk about using a supernatural happening for purposes not intended, but I have made much appreciation to Skull. And honestly, he seemed to really enjoy the attention.