Halloween lore an intoxicating brewPosted: Oct. 31, 2003
Maribel - At the edge of Cherney Maribel Caves Park, where the trail I was walking emerged from the hauntingly empty lower woods and rose again to the park's upper level, a most forbidding sign was posted to a pole. "Beyond this fence is private property," it said in bold red letters. "It is not part of the county park. If you are found trespassing you will . . . " And here the letters changed from red to black, and the hand-scrawled font seemed suddenly more inviting.
" . . . BE GIVEN A COOKIE & SODA." I didn't bite, wasn't even tempted. If that wasn't the come-on of an unfriendly ghost, the Cubs just won the World Series. The funny thing is I don't believe in ghosts. But once a year, when October shadows grow long and quiver in the breeze and the cool air crawls cat tracks up your spine and the calendar tolls the eve of Halloween, I truly appreciate ghost houses. OK, technically today is the eve of the eve of Halloween, but I can't help the column schedule, and anyway so-called grown-ups have turned a onetime spooky night for kids into a week-long festival of fright, so who's to say when it begins and ends anymore. A scary structureIt's enough to make you eerie weary. My point simply was, today is the day I can appreciate ghost houses, which is why I came to walk in Cherney Maribel Caves Park and to check on the state of my favorite ghost house, the adjacent Maribel Caves Hotel. I was relieved to see its state was still upright rubble, which has been its state for nearly 20 years now. Still, some are wondering if it might be time for the old hotel to come down which, in keeping with today's theme, would be scarier than Dracula dating your daughter, scarier than poor Roy's white tiger, scarier, even, than a winter heating bill. It wasn't always my favorite, but my former favorite puts the caution in this cautionary tale. Before I ever saw the abandoned and gutted hotel standing like a castle after a terrible battle, I favored the ramshackle farmhouse along Highway 18 between Madison and Dodgeville that everyone knew as the home of the Ridgeway Ghost. Of course they did. Someone had spray-painted "Home of the Ridgeway Ghost" in large letters across the front of the farmhouse, as if any self-respecting ghost - not that I believe in such - would need directions to get home. One October many years ago when I wrote a column about the house, a photographer for our paper used flashes of some sort to put fire-bright lights in the windows as night fell. Verry scary. I loved that picture but you couldn't take it today because a few years ago that old house fell flat as poor Twiggy the model and the Ridgeway Ghost, not that I believe in such, apparently lives elsewhere. Razing what?So you see why I was alarmed to find a Green Bay News Chronicle story linked to a Web site for state events (www.classicwisconsin.com) that said town officials, concerned that owner neglect and outsiders' vandalism had taken too harsh a toll, were wondering if the old hotel's time had finally come. "One possibility, Town Chairman C. Ross Johnson said," according to the story, "is to raze the building, removing the three-story limestone structure and leaving behind only the folklore that surrounds it." Raze? Hell. When I called him for more, though, Johnson said no decision has been made pending discussion of the hotel at the town board's meeting in November. "It's still up in the air," he said, meaning the issue but you could read it to mean the hotel, too. It was built in 1900, supposedly designed to resemble health spas found in Austria, and assembled by stone masons under the direction of a priest at a nearby Catholic church. It was used as a hotel and health spa under various owners and later was a restaurant and bar, until a 1985 fire swallowed the structure's interior and left only its rock walls standing. Frightening prospectsEven Johnson agreed that, as abandoned landmarks go, it's a keeper - but. "It is a very pretty sight," he said. "Fascinating. It's just a problem with kids and gangs going down there at night. It's just a draw (for) the wrong clientele. "And now there's this Web site." That would be the Web site (www.chadlewis.com) of an investigator of the so-called paranormal who visited the hotel to compare the "reputed phenomena" reported by previous visitors - most of it wild and straight out of bad B-movies - with what actually takes place. For the record, the investigator said, probably disappointing legions, "There is no evidence of a mass murder and suicide . . . there is no evidence of a portal to Hell." He goes on, but suffice to say there is also no known connection to John Dillinger or Al Capone and no positive sightings of ghosts in the window - certainly none shining flashlights. He did claim one witness who, on a dare, had spent the night in the hotel and reported hearing footsteps and things moving. I would suggest if she heard footsteps they may have been her own feet skedaddling, not some ghost's. Then again I don't believe in such. But I do like old buildings (the older the better) with character (or characters) - to intrigue us as we travel, and the old hotel with an unfair reputation doesn't deserve to die just because trespassing vandals won't honor "keep out" signs. I hope the town and the owner can reach an accommodation. In fact that "cookie and soda" sign gives an idea. Make it a restaurant again. Serve fine food and, yes, spirits. E-mail dmccann@journalsentinel.com. |
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