Walkin' After Midnite

Staying over with a friend who had to work early, I left their place and headed to the hotel down the road. Since I started coming to Deer Lodge I have always stayed at the same hotel, located across the street from he prison. So I drove down the street and paid 20$ to use their shower and get ready. Feeling refreshed and coffee-in-hand I made my way to the Old Montana State Prison to meet with the curator and the rest of the staff. I stopped by to talk about representing them at the Eureka Paracon - happening this June 21-24th in Eureka, NV. So we sat in the back office and told each other about our recent experiences at the prison and conversed about the last event I did in April that went a little haywire. ( But that is a whole other story. )

After the meeting, a quick walk around and all the hi’s and bye’s - I was out the door ready to head out of town when it dawned on me that I hadn’t even stepped foot in the prison cemetery yet. The cemetery is just to the North East just outside of the prison in a beautiful lot surrounded by mountain views. There is one prisoner that I adore more than any of the others and have actually formed - what I believe to be - a strong bond with. I conjured him in April and he stuck around with me for a week. During that time, I found out that he was a mama’s boy who moved away from his home of Cripple Creek to become quite the fan of trouble and liquor. He was one of only two to be hung by the state on the prison grounds for the murder of the deputy warden and also the assault on Warden Frank Conley. His name/alias was William Hayes. I made a promise with him in April that I would reunite him with his mother, and go to her grave in Cripple Creek, CO. So I tried to conjure him once again. Right as I started, a storm began to take brew in the skies above. The clouds surrounded the property line of graveyard like a horse shoe. The wind started to pick up and when I looked to the sky I could see the start of a funnel cloud dipping down from the dark sky almost kissing the mountains directly in front of me. As the storm inched closer and the wind started to pick up, I decided that being the only person in a graveyard in the middle of a possible tornado wouldn’t end well. So I packed everything up and extinguished the incense half-way-through. Maybe that’s what I was supposed to do all along.

Considering the fact that I only had one workable wiper ( the other wiper arm empty and covered in silver bikini panties to stop the screeching ) in the middle of a torrential downpour, I opted out of heading to Dillion and decided to try my luck in Butte, MT. This was the best possible choice I could have ever made.

In April of this year, I had a rough time during an overnight at The Dumas Brothel. I awoke suffocating, nauseous, worst headache of life, vomiting, cold sweats, no feeling in my limbs. Basically I woke up an hour before probable death from CO poisoning. Long story short I hadn’t spoke to or seen the owner Travis since than. I was scared to see him, but knew in my heart that I had to try. When I walked into the building I was instantly greeted with nothing but love. Some say the building is a dark place, but let me reassure you the carbon monoxide was a lack in human judgement and not something evil constructed by the spirits there. If anything they saved my life when they woke me up an hour before death. If you listen to the audio I recorded while sleeping you can actually hear the sound of me suffocating. You can say what you want, but I truly believe they saved me from meeting with the reaper. The last time I left the Dumas the condition was a little worse for wear. No plumbing, no heat, no electricity… BUT NOW, Travis has put his heart and soul into the restoration. He is doing so well and has taken it off of the market. Rachel has even come back to reopen her antique store inside. The walls have a new coat of paint and it feels the lightest it has ever felt. I have no clue why I was scared to go back.

I had to leave Calgary early to motor down to Helena, MT’s campus. I was meeting a local Montana Historian, Ellen Baumler, for lunch. Although we have been talking for the last couple weeks - this was our first meeting. Ellen, very generously, took me for lunch at a local cafe. She convinced me to order her favorite item - sweet tea & a salad with blue cheese “MERICA”, chicken and cherries. It was a strangely tasty combo. I first contacted Ellen in April, after my shocking trip down to Montana, where I almost died in a haunted brothel, from CO poisoning - and was also attacked by a medium that we had brought down with us for an event at Old Montana State Prison. I had become close with the spirit of William Hayes and she was helping me to find more info about him. After lunch Ellen took me over to an older part of Helena - where the old miners used to live. She wanted to test my intuition. I don’t ever claim to be a psychic, but have been told that I am a powerful medium. We walked up the street and instantly I could feel the presence of prostitution - so I mentioned it and Ellen pointed behind me, “That’s the brothel there.”

Yesterday. I found out from your Mother that you were gone. I haven't really stopped crying since. I can't believe it - mainly because we were talking only days before. Your mom said that the service was nice - I'm sorry I was not there. I should have been.

You should know that I have never been more hellbent obsessive about meeting someone. I came to that building and sat on the steps and waited time and time again, not to get in, but to meet you. When we finally did meet, we hit it off instantly. I came back and took you for dinner and we went back to the Dumas and stayed the night. I felt so special to be in there with you all night. You tucked me into the bed in Room 7 and you fell asleep in your office sitting upright and wrapped in a blanket like some weird vampire.

A week later Ghost Adventures filmed there. I couldn't believe that they were so scared, considering we had been laughing and walking around in the dark with a beer in each hand, with no need for a flashlight. The place always felt like home to me - loving, kind and comfortable. Nothing like the TV depicted so dishonestly. You called me soooo upset at all the people talking about you and making their assumptions. I said "fuck em, I know who you really are."

You were so trusting of me right off the bat. You let me come back with friends and you never charged me a penny when I stayed there that whole weekend in May by myself. Your kind and trusting nature was comparable to few. You are one in a million and I'm sure I will see you again - because as we discussed on numerous occasions we have known each other for many lives.

The day was pretty uneventful. It was my last chance to get some laundry done and figure out where I would be driving on the 12th. The internet has been down for days and today was no different. After getting all my ducks in a row I decided to take the time to make my goodbyes to all my Goldfield family. Stopping into Malek and Jody’s store I told them to meet me in Tonopah for dinner - as I had rented a room at The Mizpah Hotel. I tried to say goodbye to the others at the bar, but towns like those tend to close shop early on weekends. As I left a storm began to brew up behind me. Black clouds and claps of thunder ran with me all the way to Tonopah. At one point I actually saw one single bolt of lightning strike the ground about 500m away from my car. 


Unreal.


Since I had stopped into The Mizpah earlier that week, the bartender Michelle was quick to greet me and following me to the front check in she let the other employees know of my purpose for staying. The lady at the front desk also recalled me from the last time I had stayed at the hotel - about two years prior. That’s the desert for you - many people don’t forget a mug like mine.  My room 502 was ready and so was I, for a much needed shower. Staying in The Mizpah is staying with royalty. The owners put such car and consideration into the remodelling. You sleep on beds of perfection and they shower has a view form the 5th floor of the whole damn town.

Once I was ready I headed back down to the bar and met up with my Goldfield family so I could say thank you with a meal in the Mizpah’s restaurant.  After the meal everyone was curious about the rooms and the ghosts so I took them for a mini-tour of every floor. Once again solidifying Malek’s opinion that I would be a great candidate for local ghost tours - which is always such a compliment. When you go to places like these in hopes of catching something paranormal it’s always a great idea to read up on the history and beyond any story you could fabricate the history speaks for itself. I’ll never be a woman of fiction as long as there are tales of old mining town and outlaws. Real life’s history has always had me captivated.

Once everyone was fed and we all bid our sad farewells I claimed my seat at the bar and started to strike up conversations with anyone in my vicinity. The couple to the left of me were very intrigued by my trip. They were retired police officers down from Reno to sort out some family business, not only that, they were ghost hunters as well. Since they had mentioned Reno I started to speak of my love for Virginia City just on the other side of Mount Davidson. They invited me to come to their home in Reno before off to Spokane for a BBQ and some homemade moonshine! You best believe I’m going to be taking them up on that offer! They retired for the evening after we split some chocolate cake and Jameson’s - something they told me I had to try. Just like the desert, the night was too rich.

Goldfield has always held a special place in my heart. So it really wasn’t a big deal with David Oman refunded my money for June 11th at The Oman House. David offered me a private tour for a shortened visit on the house, but driving to LA can be a costly affair so I decided to stay in my favorite state for just a little longer. The morning was dictated by a mission and after breakfast I was off.

Last year, I was very blessed to meet someone who changed my whole outlook on life, the one and only Virginia Ridgeway. Known for her work with Nevada tourism and also as the retired caretaker and key holder of the Goldfield Hotel - Virginia really was the catalyst in me turning my life around. Getting out of an emotionally abusive relationship I had lost myself in the process. In a few short moments this little angel had helped me to see my self worth again and ever since then I have made sure to keep in touch.

I walked the short couple blocks to Virginia’s front door and was greeted by an ear-to-ear smile and wide eyes. Although she had recently had a stroke, she knew exactly who was at her door step. We sat down outside in the sun and talked for about an hour. She seemed to be in good spirits even though she was in pain from her bad hips. She told me that she was doing well and would soon be selling the home and moving to Reno to live in a home. We spoke about spirituality, the hotel and her lives work.

“Most of the people I know are now dead. How many people can say they have done everything they wanted to do in there life? I have no regrets. There is nothing I would change,” she said. “You look to be in better spirits. I remember when I met you last year. You were so sad. I’m happy that you are doing better.”

Those couple hours last year in the hotel will always be my most cherished memory. I always wonder if she knew she saved my life. I really do owe her everything. I don’t know where I would be if that had never happened. Virginia got tired quickly and needed to rest, so after I helped her inside and distracted her kitty with some treats as I made my escape to The Hoist House.

Kitty-corner to the Goldfield Hotel lies a great little saloon called The Hoist House. This is where you can find great staff, cold beer, the worlds best pizza and some amazing folks. One regular, Todd, can be found sitting at the end of the bar almost every afternoon. Most days he sits and drinks his beer with his loyal dog and best friend. He is one of my favorite people in the town! Every time we see each other his eyes light up behind those thick glasses and he pulls me in for a big hug. This town is always so welcoming and truly feels like my home away home.

The highway up towards Tonopah was being redone and this brought in a slew of construction workers. Joe was one of them from Lovelock, Nevada. Sitting to my right in a Hard Rock Cafe shirt and dirty jeans me and Joe shot back Serpent Whiskey and beers over some light conversation. He asked if I had ever seen the car graveyard on the outskirts of town. I had not. We decided to hit the road, but not before I gave Todd all my love and grabbed some drinks for the road.