Spooky Stories

In line with the holiday spirit (HA!), I thought it would be great to sit down this spooky season and tell a couple of scary stories that have happened to me that I can remember.

Yes, I believe in ghosts. I believe they are around us at times. I believe places are more haunted than others. Some might say what I saw could be easily explained by science, facts and other environmental variables within the stories. I will leave the stories open for your interpretation.

One of the most haunted places I ever had to be in was my first radio gig. Located in a really bad area of El Paso, the station used to be many things in its really long history. It started off life as a two story house. Soon, it turned into a two family apartment. Then, after decades of vacancy, it turned into a church, back into a vacant house and finally a radio station (which a new one sits now). I worked at the first incarnation of the radio station and have some rather interesting stories to tell.

Lets build an image of the intimate studio area for you. To gain entrance, you have to park in the rear of the building and walk down a flight of steps to the basement level. Once in, this small area (5 X 10) held a small desk, file cards filled with music and a portable FM radio playing the music the station played. Off to the left wall was the small studio. The studio (8 X 8) had the basics. It held a simple 8 channel audio board, microphone, minidisc player (used for commercials) and two turn tables (seemingly inoperable) set up in a "U" formation. Once seated, you had a window directly ahead into another studio and a smaller window to the right that looked into the studio from the small entrance area and flight of stairs.

With this in mind, lets continue.

The station held its CDs in a rack that was located behind the door to the studio, so the door had to be shut to access the CDs at any given time. The room was large enough for two people to comfortably stand inside and pull and return CDs. One of the most quirkiest things about the room was it had a Plexiglas message board suspended from the ceiling by two chains. Any touching of the board would cause it to rock back and forth. I remember this because when I first started, the guy who I would take over for would have a pet peeve about keeping that board still as possible. I remember one day watching him steady it after removing his playlist. We turned our attention to the CD rack and started to pull and return CDs.

We chit-chatted for a moment, getting the gossip of the building, telling jokes. We both finished at the exact same time, turned to the control board to see the Plexiglas message board swinging wildly back and forth on its chains as if someone pushed it with force. The two of us just stood there and watched it for about two swings. The DJ looked at me and asked if I did that. I said no. I said I watched him steady it, then turned to the CD rack at the same time he did. He reached out, stopped it then we both stayed in silence for about an hour.

Before you say "the AC turned on", it didn't. If it did, all of the papers left on the board would have flown off. The A/C doesn't move an object one full foot to make it swing wildly.

So after this, I eventually got placed on a different shift. I had inherited the closing shift, 3pm - 11pm. I was all alone in this building which I was so psyched about. Then, the noises started. It started with a loud "whumph" against the walls. It usually didn't occur more than once, but it was enough to make you start wondering what the hell it was. Then, more noises started to come about. Noises you couldn't ignore. Sure, old buildings "settle" and they "creak", but are they supposed to call out your name?

I was sitting in the studio, talking to my friend James. It was around 7:45 that night and I had just about every light in the building turned off. I had the stereo in the entrance area turned pretty low so I could hear when someone entered or knocked. I had the studio door closed and the heaters kicked on (it was a cold night) and was just enjoying the intimate studio time. I sat down with the phone in my right ear (which to the right is the door to the studio) and to the left of me was the wall with turn tables. I sat back and was talking when out of nowhere, in my left ear, someone loudly whispered "Michael".

First, no one calls me Michael. Management at the radio station and at Sonitrol don't call me Michael. Only one person calls me Michael, and that's Ivette. I didn't know Ivette at the time.

I froze.

I sat there with about 10 minutes of dead air and James nearly calling the cops to see if I was ok. When I was able to talk again, I told him what happened and he dismissed it by saying it was the song I was listening to.

Lyrics? On a Kenny G song?

Well, after telling management about this, they moved me to my final position at the radio station. I had the weekend job of 11am - 3pm. I loved this shift. Especially on Sundays, I was alone. This didn't mean that I truly was alone. During this shift I heard a lot of the noises from the overnights. I heard the bumps, the creaks, the moans (yes moans) and more importantly, the footsteps upstairs. If anyone has ever stayed in or been in an old house of said vintage, they know that you can hear people walking up stairs clearly. Soft padded flooring or not, you could hear footsteps during the daytime and at night.

After investigating many times the sounds of the mysterious walking person upstairs, I retreated to the studio to voice another commercial break. I gingerly walked down the stairs, entered the studio, closed the door, placed my headphones on & turned on the studio microphone. I gathered the papers together on the Plexiglas message board so I could announce who was coming up next when out of the corner of my eye, someone came from the entrance area, stopped at the window to my right, stared at me for a moment, then turned around and walked halfway up the stairs before disappearing before he hit the landing.

Freaked doesn't begin to describe that feeling. I saw that my music stopped well over a minute ago, so still in shock, I just replayed the same song one more time. I left the studio door open from that point forward. I marked the last day of my radio career at 89.5FM KXCR rather uneventfully. I had then accepted the job at Western Playland Amusement Park, so I was onto other (paid) gigs.

Tomorrow, I will recant the ghosts that walk the building of KTSM Television and others I have encountered.

Tis the season!