Urban legends are not confined to, well, “urbania.” I got proof of that one cold fall morning as I worked at my office at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. It was mid-October 1995. I’d been at the Grand Canyon for 7 years at that point, and round about that time of year is when the old timers would trot out their Grand Canyon ghost stories.
One such tale revolves around one of the Grand Canyon’s older buildings and a lone caretaker who spent the night in said building so he could get an early start on closing it up for renovations the next morning. Apparently the gentleman emerged from the place the next morning white as a you-know-what. Things……lots of things…if that was indeed what they were… had gone bump in the night and he swore he’d never venture into the place alone again.
Or the one about the Harvey Girl whose spirit was said to wander the halls of another of the park’s older structures at night, still in her trademark black dress and starched white blouse.
Or the one about “la Llorona,” (Spanish for ‘the weeping woman’), an apparation whose “mournful wail” has not only been heard by hikers on a certain Grand Canyon Trail, but near waterways throughout the Southwest and Latin America. Her story is excerpted in Andrea Lankford’s book, “Haunted Hikes: Spine-Tingling Tales and Trails from North America’s National Parks,” and is also mentioned in this collection of ghost stories in the Yuma Arizona Sun Newspaper.
The other day in my on-line wanderings, I even happened upon an old abstract about “The Brocken Spectre,” a phantom said to “reside” in yet another of the Grand Canyon’s historic landmarks.
In all the years I’d been in the park, I’d never had such an encounter. But on one clear October morning, as I worked away by myself in the old office building in Grand Canyon Village, I had one. It was about 6.00 AM. I would sometimes go to work early to catch up on paperwork before my phone started ringing (which it would do non-stop till closing time). I was doing that very thing when all of a sudden I heard a loud *SMASH!*
My heart skipped a beat as I whirled around to see what it was: a potted plant that I had kept on my desk had flown – yes, FLOWN – across the room and splatted on the floor! Was I visited by a poltergeist? Had the building been haunted all this time? Some, upon my telling of the story, seemed to think so. To this day, I have no explanation for what happened.
Should you be scared? No, not really. In fact, in my 20 years as a Grand Canyon vacation planner, I’ve never heard a visitor call me back with any ghost stories. But, those of you who like that sort of thing will certainly find fodder for your imagination in Arizona.
Arizona is home to many “ghost towns”. Some, like Jerome, and Tombstone, now enjoy modern “reincarnations” as artist colonies and tourist destinations. There are some beautiful hotels, bed and breakfasts, etc. located in either town. For Jerome, you can also find lodging nearby in Sedona or Prescott. If you’re visiting Tombstone and can’t find lodging in town, look to the communities of Benson or Sierra Vista.
Others are ghost towns in the true sense of the word. On the Grand Canyon Railway, for example, you’ll pass by Apex, Arizona, which was a “company town” for Grand Canyon train workers from 1928 to 1936. If you blink, you might miss it.
Arizona has its own “ghost highway,” the remnants of Old Route 66, one of which you can actually still drive on from Kingman to Seligman. Some of the kitschy old mom-n-pop shops are still open and operating; others, like the sign in the above photo, stand in eerie testament to a bygone era, one that still lives on in the hearts and minds of those who once travelled “The Mother Road” and even some who weren’t even born when it was bypassed by Interstate 40.
Happy Halloween, everybody! 
Alley Kaye
P.S. Want to read some really good ghost stories? These stories from Tucson’s Arizona Daily Star will send chills up your spine! Tell ‘em to your little ghosts and goblins this Halloween night!
P.P.S. Here’s more ghost stories from Payson and Williams.
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