South of the Border

Hamer, South Carolina

Pedro looms over the site of the original beer standPedro looms over the site of the original beer stand

Mention the phrase “South of the Border’ and thoughts turn to Mexican border towns catering to American tourists with local cuisine and cheap handmade crafts for sale. Hamer, South Carolina’s South of the Border is not one of these places. This sprawling faux-Mexican roadside attraction is over a square mile in size, but it is more akin to the Frito Bandito meets Wall Drug than a tip of the hat to towns such as Tijuana, Matamoras or Nuevo Laredo. South of the Border features 5 restaurants, 7 gift shops, a motor inn, a miniature golf course (with the tongue-in-cheek moniker of “The Golf of Mexico”), a sombrero-shaped observation tower, a kiddy amusement park and the largest collection of concrete critters (and stereotypical Mexican cartoon statues) this side of the South Dakota badlands. SOB (as a nearby water tower nicknames the city-within-a-city) wasn’t always the road trip stopover destination it is today – it has blossomed from its humble beginnings as a tiny beer stand (South of the Border Beer Depot). Alan Schafer opened the stand in 1949 to serve beer to citizens who crossed the North/South Carolina border from dry Robeson County to wet their whistles. At the time, the name simply indicated its location just south of the North Carolina border in Hamer. The stand became so popular that Schafer was able to add 20 motel rooms to the site in 1954 (giving patrons who had too much of good thing a place to crash rather than on the roads back north). With the Interstate System creation of I-95 in the 1950s, the stop became a regular place for drivers motoring between New York and Florida; the later addition of a grill heralded the name change to South of the Border Drive-In. It wasn’t until Schaefer began selling souvenirs brought back from a trip to Mexico that the Mexican theme originated. On one of these trips, he arranged for two boys to come back with him to work as bellboys in the hotel. As you would expect from the racially tolerant, culturally-understanding southerners of the 1950s, the two boys were given the names “Pedro” and “Pancho”, until at one point they were both simply called “Pedro”. People became so accustomed to the name Pedro that to this day, every employee of South of the Border is named Pedro. If it gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling, know that native Ben Bernanke (yes, the Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke) was a summer Pedro to earn money for college.

The hamburger looks like a larger version of my rented VWThe hamburger looks like a larger version of my rented VW

The Mexican caricature of Pedro has become so synonymous with SOB that billboards up and down I-95 through multiple states feature Pedro with ridiculous puns (think, “You never sausage a place”). If South of the Border is your destination, the hundreds of remaining billboards are there to constantly remind you how close you are. The kid’s cries of “Are we there yet?” are totally unnecessary – when you see Sombrero Tower looming for several miles in the distance, you’ll know you’re there. The tower (a late addition) features a glass elevator that for a paltry dollar will whisk you above the South Carolina countryside to a spectacular 360-degree view from the brim of the hat. Unfortunately the view from the Space Needle of the East is primarily comprised of fields and trees (this is, after all, Hamer, South Carolina and not New York City). The tower is described as anywhere from 165 to 200 feet tall; however the SOB brochure lists it at a dubious 300 feet tall. The base of the tower is housed in an arcade, the perfect place to get rid of those annoying coins laying about the floor of the family sedan. The Mexico Shop East and Sombrero Restaurant now occupy the site where the original beer stand stood; outside a 97-foot flat Pedro straddles the parking lot holding up a blackboard-looking South of the Border sign. The Mexico Shop East is one of many selling the same types of cheap Mexican souvenirs you’d expect to find in a real border town, except it is about the size of a small K-Mart.

One of the many concrete Pedros that populate SOBOne of the many concrete Pedros that populate SOB

To the left of the gift shop check-out counter is a neon portal to what can probably be called “Classic Gabacho Mexican Cuisine”, the themed Sombrero Restaurant. I carefully weighed my food options – I could have chosen Pedro’s Diner, the various burger, hot dog and ice cream stands, or the Peddler Steakhouse, but I decided to go with the Mexican theme and patronize the Sombrero. Vinyl cowhide booths under adobe arches are lit by Tiffany-style swag lamps that look like they’d be more at home at a TGI Fridays, and the most polite (Anglo) wait staff are attentive to all your fake Mexican needs. I went with the enchilada plate (mixing beef and chicken) that featured sides of rice and refried beans and tortilla chips that were undoubtedly out of a bag. How was the food, you ask? Well, it didn’t suck, and oddly I mean that as a compliment. The food was a far cry better than the infamous Mexican food impostor, Taco Bell, but it was somewhat lacking in spice. The enchiladas were firm and the meat tasted fresh (it wasn’t the goopy Tex-Mex disaster I feared); the shredded iceberg lettuce and diced tomato strewn about the top weren’t mushy or wilted. The beans were somewhat dry, but not like they were hours old, and the rice was as white as it’s origin. I asked for a bottle of Tabasco just to add some kick to it, and imagined that the food is geared towards busloads of elderly tourists on their way to West Palm Beach or Atlantic City. The waitress confided that since Shafer died of leukemia in July of 2001, his sons have “cut corners” resulting in a decline in quality but the grounds seemed kept up well and the concrete denizens appeared to all be sporting fresh paint (for some strange reason, the gorilla had a painted-on shirt, but no pants).

Bland but decent fake Mexican foodBland but decent fake Mexican food

As Rednexican as this kitsch Disneyland is, you have no excuse for not stopping to take in the rambling park that looks like something out of a Tim Burton daydream, as SOB is open 365 days a year. It is a convenient time-killer on that snowbird trek down the eastern seaboard, located almost exactly halfway between New York and Florida. You could even make it an overnight stop, and if the romance and charm get to you, consider taking advantage of SOB’s wedding package that will get you hitched and provide you with the honeymoon suite and a free breakfast before continuing on your journey to see the world’s largest bowling pin. In these days of nationalism, it’s nice to know that you can travel freely south of a border that never closes and that the only papers you’ll need are roadmaps.

South of the Border
3346 Highway 301 North
Hamer, SC 29547
GPS Coordinates: 34°29’53.59″N 79°18’31.99″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s visit to South of The Border, Hamer SC

 

World’s Largest Bowling Pin

Tampa, Florida

Alie and I are shown actual sizeAlie and I are shown actual size

The prime target in any bowling alley lane is the 1 (or head) pin. A straight smack to the head pin generally sends the remaining pins screaming to the back of the lane in a satisfying cataclysm of battered wood. That head pin stands at attention, smirking, laughing and taunting you to take your best shot, an evil little bottle-shaped chunk of maple that makes you not only want to knock it down, but to kill it outright. Now picture that pin 30 feet tall, poised to knock you down. That’s what you’ll come face-to-face with when you ascend the escalator at Channelside Bay Plaza, an open-air plaza mall just steps between the TECO Line Streetcar and the cruise ship terminal at Tampa Harbor. The pin itself is taller than the bowling alley it appears to have escaped from (Splitsville Lanes), and although it doesn’t seem formidable looking down into the courtyard at it, the pin dwarfs even the tallest bowler. As impressive as this superlative sporting good sculpture is, you can’t help looking around for a Indiana Jones-style bowling ball to come rolling down the escalator. The pin has stood outside the front entrance to Splitsville since their opening in Tampa in 2004, and it has become a photo opportunity, a tourist attraction and a holy grail for ‘world’s largest” object hunters.

The dining and drinking area with its bowling pin columnsThe dining and drinking area with its bowling pin columns

When you visit the world’s largest ball of twine in Cawker City, Kansas, you have the opportunity to interact with the behemoth by winding twine around it; at Splitsville Lanes, once you’ve lingered in front of the pin for awhile, there’s only one obvious thing left to do – go bowling. The inside is clean as a whistle with a throwback, retro 1950s look. As you walk in, a look to the left reveals a very fully stocked bar and restaurant with tables and booths accented with ridiculously high-backed leather benches. The area to the right of the drinking and dining area features ceiling-high bowling pin columns that look like offspring of Big Daddy standing watch out front. At the very back, custom bowling balls sit in cubby holes behind Plexiglas next to a giant multi-colored high-heel pump sculpture that seems out of place in a bowling alley (perhaps a bowling shoe would have made a better subject); the lanes themselves are cordoned off into three sections of four lanes each. As retro as the place is, you won’t find yourself placing an “X” on a newsprint grid with little yellow pencils – the scorekeeping is modernized so that to can view your score automatically on the monitor at your lane or watch in horror as it is displayed on the large monitor above. After each ball, the monitor sizes up what you have left to hit and gives you degrees of difficulty and tips (although I think it gave up on me very early on). The lane area features a tall, plush curved bench with a round table in the middle – a waitperson will bring menus and deliver food and drink right to where you’re sitting; you can imagine how helpful it is to have food grease all over your hands while you’re hurling a 16-pound spherical resin projectile through the air.

Though I walk to the Lane of Darkness I will fear no evilThough I walk to the Lane of Darkness I will fear no evil

No detail is overlooked – daughter Alie arrived sans socks, but we were able to conveniently purchase a pair of white cotton peds at the shoe rental counter. As neither of us are frequent bowlers, we played with the house’s balls, although it took us half a string to find the right weight and fit. If you haven’t suffered enough humiliation and choose to bowl another game, you simply let them know at the front desk (otherwise the system conveniently shuts itself down). You can end up having so much fun bowling, drinking and dining that you’ll forget that the reason you showed up in the first place was to see the kingpin outside. Whether you’re a Jeffrey Lebowski, Split Carson, Roy Munson, or a “50″ bowler like me, it’s damned near impossible to hit Splitsville Lanes and not have a good time – just leave the Pomeranian at home.

Splitsville Lanes
Channelside Bay Plaza
615 Channelside Drive
Tampa, Florida 33602
GPS Coordinates: 27°56’34.95″N  82°26’48.69″W

GALLERY: See images from Val and Alie’s visit to Splitsville in Tampa, Florida

 

Los Angeles’ Historic Core District

Grand Central Market, Million Dollar Theater (L); Bradbury Building (R)Grand Central Market, Million Dollar Theater (L); Bradbury Building (R)

I have to wonder why many writers in Los Angeles have a fixation and focus on whatever is new as opposed to the fascinating remnants of the old guard. Although historically there is not much dating back past the 19th century, there are some beautifully restored reminders of our past that are worth checking out, with a considerable amount of them congregating in one area – the Historic Core District. This area is bounded by Hill, Main, 3rd and 9th Streets, and encompasses what was considered Los Angeles in the early half of the 1900s. The Core District has had its share of ups and downs and until recently was more down than up. Since the 1990s, a major effort has been under way to revitalize the area and bring back these gems to their former glory while making it a safe and fun place for people to visit. The area includes the original Los Angeles (El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula, a mouthful to be sure) which is located to the north in and around Olvera Street, Pershing Square, L.A. City Hall, the Biltmore Hotel and old quirky restaurants such as Clifton’s Cafeteria, and the French dip warriors Cole’s and Philippe. There is no way I could do a single article highlighting all the notable points of interest in the Core District, so I’ll focus on a single block between Broadway, Hill, 3rd and 4th Streets (a very short walk from the Pershing Square Metro station, and with plenty of street parking).

The sky lit atrium of the Bradbury BuildingThe sky lit atrium of the Bradbury Building

We’ll start our tour on Broadway; from the middle of the east side of the street (looking towards the intersection of Broadway and West 2nd Street) the magnificent architecture of the Million Dollar Theater and the Bradbury Building dominate the view. From the outside, the Bradbury seems unfamiliar, but once you pass through the beautiful bare wood doorway you will immediately recognize it from countless television shows and movies (the most popular being Blade Runner – ironically, architect George Wyman designed the building inspired by the 1887 science fiction novel “Looking Backwards”). Built in 1893 at a then-astronomical price of around $500,000, the building had fallen into disrepair over the years but has been lovingly restored to its original grandeur after being given landmark status in 1977. The sky lighted atrium is breathtaking – the tile walls give way to each of the floors, which are decorated with wrought-iron railings and wood accents and ceilings; an open wrought iron cage elevator takes occupants up to the 5th floor. Although the building is filled with occupied offices, visitors with business in the building must check in with the guard; all other visitors are only permitted up to the first level.

Center aisle of Grand Central MarketCenter aisle of Grand Central Market

Directly across the street is one of the oldest movie palaces in the United States, the 1918 Million Dollar Theater. The theater was built by Sid Grauman, who is probably better known for his Chinese Theater in Hollywood featuring stars’ hand and footprints in cement. Through the 1940s the theater featured popular live acts of the day along with movies; in the late 40s, it became a center for Spanish language entertainment. The theater was closed for several years but recently renovated and re-opened once again as a Latino entertainment center. To the left of the Million Dollar Theater in the same block is Los Angeles’ famous Grand Central Public Market. Built and operating since 1917, it is the definitive place to get fresh produce, meat and specialty items or hard-core ethnic cuisine. During operating hours the Broadway and Hill Street entrances are fully opened giving the indoor market the appearance of an outdoor bazaar. The cement floors are covered in sawdust, and it’s not unusual to see a pigeon or two wandering around inside (trying to avoid ending up in butcher paper, I imagine). One of my personal favorite stalls goes by the odd name of Roast to Go. The stall wears its menu on its sleeve, with their food displayed prominently in steam-covered glass cases, but it’s their unusual Mexican offerings that make it one of my favorite places to get a bite in Los Angeles. The menu features lengua (tongue), hog maw (stomach), pork snout, beef cheeks and more – I couldn’t resist the temptation of the tongue rising from the tangy depths of a sauce filled tray and ordered one lengua and one hog maw taco. There couldn’t have been two more different tasting meats – the lengua was tender and fatty and worked well as a contrast to the traditional taco fillings; the hog maw had a firm and chewy consistency and a delicious flavor that would be difficult to describe as porcine. Farther down at Maria’s Seafood I found something I hadn’t had the pleasure of trying previously – charales. Charales are tiny freshwater fish from Mexico that are battered and fried whole, then eaten as a snack or in tacos. I decided that a taco was in order, and the spicy, crispy fish were the perfect complement to the cool tomato and lettuce.

Angels Flight, the worlds shortest railwayAngels Flight, the worlds shortest railway

After chowing down on any of the traditional “food of the people” at Grand Central Market, take a walk out the Hill Street entrance and cross the street to one of Los Angeles’ hidden gems, Angels Fight. The funicular (similar to Pittsburgh’s Monongahela and Duquesne Inclines) has the distinction of being the shortest railway in the world (with a good arm you could throw a stone from one end to the other of its 298-foot length). The railway was built in 1901 and continued operating through 1969 when it was dismantled for redevelopment of the land it was on (half a block from its current location). It was moved to its current location and reopened in 1996 connecting the Core District at Hill and West 2nd Streets with the modern Bunker Hill California Plaza, and was registered as a historic landmark in 2000. Angels Flight was closed after a fatal accident in February 2001 when one of the cars reversed direction and sped to the bottom and crashed, killing an 83-year old passenger. After 9 years of rebuilding, installing safety features and thorough testing, Angels Flight reopened on March 15, 2010. You can still ride in the original wooden cars; at 50 cents for a round-trip the brief ride on the world’s shortest railway is the best half-dollar you’ll ever spend.

Lengua on the left, hog maw on the rightLengua on the left, hog maw on the right

There is a multitude of other historic spots in and around Los Angeles (some of which I’ll have to cover in other articles) but I suggest you seek out and enjoy these gems before they are lost in the tide of history. To know and love L.A. requires an appreciation not just of where it is going, but where it has been. Although I’m not  as enthusiastic about it as Randy Newman, you don’t have to look far to find something to love in L.A.

The Bradbury Building
304 South Broadway Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90012
GPS Coordinates: 34°3’2.35″N 118°14’53.03″W

The Million Dollar Theater
307 South Broadway Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90013
GPS Coordinates: 34°3’3.01″N 118°14’53.78″W

Grand Central Market
317 South Broadway Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90013
GPS Coordinates: 34 3’1.95″N 118°14’54.79″W

Angels Flight
351 South Hill Street
Los Angeles, CA 90013
GPS Coordinates: 34°3’3.86″N 118°14’59.38″W

Los Angeles Business Improvement District

GALLERY: See images of Val’s visit to a historic block of L.A.’s Historic Core District

Hear Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.”


 

McRib

McDonald’s worldwide (when available)

The very un-riblike McRibThe very un-riblike McRib

From a culinary standpoint, I like to walk on the wild side. It was inevitable that I had to eventually consume the UMO (Unidentified Meat-like Object) that is well known to billions as the McRib. A majority of Americans might question the concept of the McRib as “bizarre food”, and I although I contend that it is impossible to overlook it as strange cuisine I will agree with them on the basis that it can only marginally be called “food”. Some journalists risk life and limb covering stories while hugging trees during Category 4 hurricanes, crouched down with rounds of ammunition whizzing past their heads, or being escorted through maximum security prisons; my defiant act of staring death in the face in the name of unbiased reporting involved passing through the golden arches for the sandwich that has had more farewell tours than The Who. In 2005, 2007 and 2008, the McRib was brought back for a limited time in what is likely an artificially inflated supply-and-demand game by McDonalds. The latest release was approximately a month long (beginning in November of 2010) which gave me approximately 30 days to muster the courage to eat one and to keep an open mind while doing so, considering the sandwich on its own merits. Working up the courage to approach the counter, I felt like Walter Cronkite covering a Glenn Beck/Sarah Palin rally; I knew I had to be impartial and call it the way it was.

A cross section of the McRibA cross section of the McRib

The first thing that made me laugh was the red cardboard Pandora’s box the sandwich is served in with “McRib Tangy Temptation” emblazoned on the top; I equated the experience to showing up for a blind date, or interviewing at a company with no windows. The kimono was opened and I took a moment to size up my prey; I was face to face with a rather unassuming sesame seed roll with a brown 1/4 inch thick, brown, sauce-drenched slab poking out of the length of the roll with spatters of orange sauce in various spots on the bun and inside of the box. There wasn’t much of a smell (which I regarded as a blessing), even after lifting off the top half of the bun. I wanted to see the famous molded and colored “rib” formation, but it was difficult to make it out with the sauce, pickle chips and raw white onion pieces on top. I scraped the toppings off lightly with a knife and noticed that there was an even consistency to the meat, realizing that the McCrew member had assembled the sandwich with the McRib face down. A gentle flip exposed the now-legendary faux quarter-rack, but the “meat” portion did not have the original darker artificial coloring that used to make it stand out from the edible “bone” portion. I cut the sandwich in half, noting that the meat appeared to have an even consistency all the way through – it looked like a finely ground, compressed meatloaf or a burger in the UK. Since I always try to break down a new food to its simplest form, I broke off a piece of the meat. The taste was somewhat bland, approximating a cross between SPAM and a cellulose sponge. I replaced the top half of the bun and slowly finished the sandwich. The sauce was inoffensive; it had a little tang to it, and while not being either syrupy or watery it was neither overly sweet nor spicy. What it didn’t taste like was pork ribs; the meat is mostly pork shoulder and fat, ground and pressed into a mold and then pre-cooked before being flash frozen. This small sandwich weighs in at approximately 500 calories, half of which are from fat.

The oldest McDonalds in Downey, CAThe oldest McDonalds in Downey, CA

Although I didn’t require hospitalization, I don’t see myself ever having to eat a McRib again. If you are in the minority who have not yet tried the sandwich and are interested in trying it out of morbid curiosity, I recommend making the pilgrimage to Downey, California the next time it becomes available and eating it at the oldest McDonald’s still in operation. This location will make the experience more memorable from a nostalgic standpoint, but don’t expect carhops and fresh food made to order. After the original McDonald brothers’ stand in San Bernardino was demolished, the 1953 Downey location remained as the oldest in the world. The sign out front is a throwback to the old days with an animated neon Speedy on top, and the restaurant still maintains the original double arch design (initially created for structural integrity). Next door to the restaurant is a tiny, one-story building that houses a museum chock full of memorabilia including hats, a menu board and one of the original multi-mixers used to make their legendary shakes (in the days before using ingredients lab rats wouldn’t intentionally ingest). Sadly, McDonald’s missed the boat on maintaining the site as a flagship restaurant serving made-to-order menu items the way the McDonald brothers did in original uniforms. As you walk up to the window you come to the sad realization that the quality, prices and decor are no different than any other McDonalds. Back in the 1970s, a McDonald’s commercial featuring actor John Amos and ending in the familiar “You deserve a break today” started of with the line, “Grab a bucket and mop”. I don’t anticipate eating at a McDonald’s any time soon, but if I ever happen to have my car break down in the parking lot of a Mickey D’s hundreds of miles from civilization after three days of starvation in the desert, I may ask them to have that bucket and mop ready just in case.

World’s Oldest McDonalds
10207 Lakewood Blvd
Downey, CA 90241
GPS Coordinates: 33°56’50.66″N 118°7’4.29″W

See images of the McRib sandwich and the oldest surviving McDonalds in Downey, California

Watch an old McDonald’s commercial from the 1970s featuring John Amos


 

Haunted San Diego

San Diego, California

The extremely haunted Whaley HouseThe extremely haunted Whaley House

San Diego is not usually the first place that pops into mind when considering haunted places in the U.S. Typical spooky destinations usually include Alcatraz; Gettysburg Cemetery; San Jose’s Winchester Mystery House; Salem, Massachusetts; New Orleans; Charleston, South Carolina; and Fall River, Massachusetts’ Lizzie Borden House, but you would be remiss to overlook several haunted locations in San Diego, California, including one included in almost every “most haunted” top 10 list – The Whaley House. The house was built specifically for Thomas Whaley and completed in August of 1857 at a cost of $10,000 (a small fortune in those days, especially in the fledgling location now known as Old Town). Whaley was a New York businessman who had spent a considerable amount of time traveling back and forth between New York, San Francisco, and San Diego, settling in the latter permanently after marrying in New York. The house was unusual for San Diego in that it was crafted from brick (which were manufactured in the San Diego brickyard Whaley owned). The building housed San Diego’s first theater (located in an upstairs bedroom and able to accommodate 150 people); during 1869 the county of San Diego leased a small courtroom for $65 dollars a month; adjacent to the courtroom was the Whaley and Crosthwaite General Store (all of which have been restored and can be seen today). Even before the house was built it may have been marked for otherworldly occupation due to its location – it was adjacent to a Native American Kumeyaay (or Kumiai) settlement, and many of the tribe who died from disease and interaction with the Europeans overflowed the church cemetery and may have been buried on the property. The plot of land where the house stands was also used as the town gallows where James “Yankee Jim” Robinson was hanged in 1852 after being tried for grand larceny; according to local reports, Robinson was too tall for the noose resulting in a hanging that lasted over an hour. Local newspaper accounts reported that the Whaleys encountered heavy footsteps in the home and attributed them to “Yankee Jim”, which essentially means that the home was haunted while the Whaleys were living there.

The county courtroom inside the Whaley HouseThe county courtroom inside the Whaley House

The Whaleys welcomed a son (Thomas Jr.) in 1856, although he died in the house of scarlet fever at the tender young age of 18 months. The death of their son, coupled with a fire in their wooden store prompted them to reconsider San Diego and move to San Francisco. Twelve years later Whaley made repairs to the home and brought the family back to San Diego to live. Death was becoming a regular visitor at the site; the theater’s operator (Tanner Troupe) died 17 days after the theatre opened. As one story goes, a girl who had been strangled on a clothesline while running down a hill was brought into the kitchen and died on the kitchen table. In 1882, their daughter Violet married George T. Bertolacci, but the marriage ended in divorce; suffering from depression, she committed suicide in the house with her father’s gun in 1885. After Violet’s death, the Whaleys moved into a house they built on State Street and never returned. The brick home fell into disrepair, but was restored by son Francis in 1909 as a tourist attraction; it opened officially as a museum in 1960 and officially designated as haunted by the United States Commerce Department. Visitors to the Whaley house today have reported seeing or hearing the presence of Yankee Jim, little Thomas and even the family terrier. Docents maintain a sense of humor about the site; on my visit, one of the tour guides asked, “Do you know how that crack appeared in that mirror?” and after a moment of puzzled silence revealed that they broke it while moving it. The woman selling tickets downstairs said that while an episode of “Most Haunted” was being filmed, the crew was “staging” sightings upstairs with their fancy equipment while real paranormal activity was occurring downstairs.

The entrance to the Horton Grand HotelThe entrance to the Horton Grand Hotel

Another of San Diego’s haunted dwellings is the current Horton Grand Hotel, located just off the Gaslamp District (the former Stingaree, or red-light district) and relocated at the same spot as a famous local bordello that stood at that site at the turn of the last century. The huge brick Italianate Victorian building is actually the architectural merging of two hotels, both formerly located in different locations. The Grand Horton Hotel was built in 1886 at the cost of over $200,000 by architects Comstock and Trotsche in the style of the famous Innsbruck Inn in Vienna, Austria; the other, less fancy hotel (also built in 1886) was originally called the Brooklyn Hotel, but after the Kahle Saddlery Shop moved into the ground floor it was renamed the Brooklyn Kahle Saddlery Hotel. It was in The Brooklyn Kahle Saddlery Hotel that Wyatt Earp spent most of most of his years while living in San Diego. By 1970 both structures had fallen into disrepair and were slated for demolition to make way for the new Horton Plaza (itself a haunted location, for reasons we’ll cover shortly). A developer offered to buy the two buildings and relocate them, taking on the arduous task of removing and cataloguing each brick. Both hotels were reassembled as a single structure in 1986 (one hundred years after their original construction dates). Another building and house of ill repute (formerly known as the Anita and Regal Hotels) on the property was incorporated into the design, creating 24 additional suites that were opened to the public in 1990. The original oak staircase from the Grand Horton was shipped to Austria for restoration; it now serves as access to the rooms on the second floor. Just below the staircase is a paper mache horse that served as the saddle shop’s mascot; he now guards the former saddlery in the location where it once stood. The rooms are furnished with antiques, with flat-panel televisions built into a wall cabinet to maintain the Victorian look and feel of each room. There have been multiple encounters with specters at the new location, most attributed to the ghost of a man named Roger Whittaker (no, not the guy who sang “The Last Farewell”). There are two stories about the sad tale of said Mr. Whittaker; the first involves him being shot and killed by the father of his true-love, after which his lifeless corpse is dumped unceremoniously into a swamp which later turned out to be the present site of the hotel. The second, more fun and plausible story involves a cheating gambler caught in the act; after fleeing the game, he ended up at his hotel where he hid in the armoire in Room 309 – his pursuers caught up with him and shot him through the armoire’s door. In either case, guests of room 309 have been disturbed by shaking beds and armoire doors that fly open, and guests have felt his presence in the hallway. Other accounts attribute ghostly visits to Madam Ida Bailey, who hosted the brothel previously at that location. Although President Benjamin Harrison, fighters Jack Dempsey and Joe Louis, baseball legend Babe Ruth, and the aforementioned Wyatt Earp were once residents of the hotels in their previous incarnation, guests have not reported visits by any dignitaries.

The haunted 1907 Jessop clockThe haunted 1907 Jessop clock

I mentioned the hotels being relocated to make way for Horton Plaza, a sprawling shopping mega-center, but the new Horton Plaza has a haunted link with the past. On the main concourse of the bottom level is a grand Victorian clock with the name “Jessop’s” emblazoned across the top in gold leaf. It was moved from its original location in the front of Jessop and Sons’ jewelry store on 5th Avenue to Horton Plaza in 1984. The outdoor pendulum clock was commissioned by local jeweler Joseph Jessop and built by employee Claude D. Ledger in 1907. There are 21 dials on four faces indicating time in various places around the world; the clock is 22 feet tall with its movement electrically wound every eight hours. A fine story about a magnificent timepiece, to be sure, but what does any of it have to do with haunted locations? It has been documented that on the day Ledger (the clock’s creator) died, the clock stopped working. After careful troubleshooting, no reason could be found for the clock’s stoppage – it was rewound and continued to keep accurate time through 2009. The clock was refurbished, cleaned, repainted and had new gold leaf applied at a cost of over $25,000. The repairs were performed by the Jessop family, who still owns and maintains the clock – after the overhaul, the clock was restarted publicly by 98-year-old David Jessop Jr., great-grandson of Joseph Jessop in November of 2009, 102 years after its debut.

There are other places in and around San Diego reputed to be haunted including the 1913 St. James Hotel (now a Ramada hotel) and nearby Hotel del Coronado; I’m sure the graveyard of the oldest of the California missions, Mission Basilica San Diego de Alcala, is a creepy place to spend a dark Halloween night and a location with stories to tell. We have a morbid fascination with visits from the great beyond, and there’s plenty to see that will satisfy even the most timid paranormal investigator; enjoy your ghost hunt, and hopefully the scariest thing you will encounter will be the Taco Bell trying to pass its food off as Mexican cuisine.

The Whaley House
2476 San Diego Avenue
San Diego, California 92110
GPS Coordinates: 32°45’9.86″N 117°11’40.69″W

Horton Grand Hotel
311 Island Avenue
San Diego, California 92101
GPS Coordinates: 32°42’37.39″N 117°9’41.51″W

Horton Plaza
324 Horton Plaza
San Diego CA 92101-5481
GPS Coordinates: 32°42’49.96″N 117° 9’44.72″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s visit to San Diego, California’s haunted sites

Hear “The Last Farewell” by Roger Whittaker (the singer, not the ghost)

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