April Slaughter (14 page)

PARANORMAL PHENOMENA can pop up anywhere. Creepy old buildings and so-called “ghost towns” are not the only places one might be able to find and interact with the spirits of those who have crossed over. Fact is, you can’t judge a location simply on how it looks. Some of the scariest places I have ever been were not at all the kind that people would normally think of as haunted. Have I encountered ghosts in dilapidated old homes and buildings? Absolutely! I have also seen my fair share of phenomena in pristine, newly built structures and entirely unassuming locations. Sites in the great outdoors have often proven to be some of the most interesting and fun to visit and investigate. I think it is important to keep in mind that anywhere you might go, someone else has been there before you—and still might be hanging around!

Dead Man’s Hole intrigued me enough in my research to go looking for it, which was a bit of a task in and of itself. Allen and
I were following the only directions we could locate (which were vague), and realized that we had passed the site several times before finally finding our way. A path lined with large stones led us off the winding farm road, which was the only indication that we had found what we were looking for.

It is not immediately noticeable, but the actual site sits no more than a few dozen yards beyond the road. Loose gravel lines the path up to a historical marker, briefly describing the history of what lies just behind it. Dead Man’s Hole was reportedly first discovered in 1821 by Ferdinand Lueders, an entomologist studying insects in the area. Several decades later, it would become known as a popular dumping ground for many unfortunate souls, including Unionists who were killed during the Civil War. It was widely rumored that the bodies of at least seventeen people were tossed into the cave, which stretches seven feet across and reaches a depth of over one hundred and fifty feet into the ground. Only three bodies recovered from the cave have ever been positively identified, while the rest of those presumed dead remain a mystery.

An oak tree that once towered over Dead Man’s Hole was rumored to bear the marks left by ropes used for hangings. I doubt that neither the cave nor the tree was intended by Mother Nature to serve such gruesome purposes, but as history so often shows us, human beings are creatures of mass consumption who tend to use up any resources they can find—this cave being no exception.

In August 1872, a man known as Benjamin McKeever noticed a neighbor’s dog out snapping at the heels of his horses, and became so annoyed by it that he thought he would take matters into his own hands and fire shots at the dog. The pet belonged to a nearby African-American man, and McKeever (a reportedly proud racist) took no issue with attempting to shoot the animal. The dog’s owner was also shot at when he went to intercede, but was unharmed. He and his friends were angered over the incident and went after McKeever himself for revenge. Naturally, when his body came up missing, local law enforcement paid a visit to Dead Man’s Hole and found some of his personal belongings hanging partially down into the cave. His body was recovered a short time later, and those accused of his murder were subsequently punished.

Settlers in the area knew the natural fissure to be a popular dumping ground, but as it accumulated a large amount of noxious gas, it was almost impossible to fully explore the underground cavern at the time. As technology progressed, the invention and use of gas masks made it possible for the Texas Speleological Society to map out the cave in 1968. Land owner Ona Lou Roper initially allowed qualified spelunkers down into the cave for exploration. Her husband’s family had purchased
the land in the 1920s, and they have been ranching on it ever since. Mrs. Roper eventually donated six acres of land that surrounds Dead Man’s Hole to the county for preservation, and assisted in erecting the historical marker visitors see today.

The cave has since been sealed off to prevent harm to anyone curious enough to climb down into it, as well as to any animals that might be wandering nearby. The “hanging tree” has been removed as well, and much of the surrounding brush has been cleared. Scattered limestone rocks and a small patch of brush near the cave’s entrance are all that remain.

As Allen and I walked the boulder-lined path up to Dead Man’s Hole one sunny and humid afternoon, Allen asked me an interesting question.

“Do you hear anything?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“It’s completely silent out here. It shouldn’t be. I can’t hear a bird . . . insects . . . anything making noise out here,” he said.

I stood still and began to pay attention to my surroundings. He was right—I didn’t hear a single thing. There was an eerie calm about the place, and it seemed a bit strange.

“I don’t hear anything either,” I said. “I’m sure we will. It’s probably nothing more than a coincidence that we happened to notice.”

We had turned on our digital recorder as we got out of our car, and decided to let it rest on top of the granite historical marker while we took a look around. I walked down a small slope that led to the entrance of the cave and sat on one of the boulders. Allen began to snap photographs and was no more than about five yards away when I heard the sound of a rock being thrown and landing close by. I looked to see where it was, or where it might have come from, but I saw nothing. For a moment, I thought Allen might have been playing around and decided to chuck a pebble at me, but he had his back turned to
me and was too far away to have done it. A few minutes later, the exact same thing happened. I heard the same sound, but once again, I could not see the source.

I spent nearly twenty minutes sitting at the top of the cave, and for over half of that time, I got the impression that someone was trying to get my attention, or may have just been teasing me. Either way, I was never able to figure out what was going on.

Allen came back from taking pictures and sat down beside me on the boulder.

“What sorts of things have reportedly happened out here?” he asked.

I replied by telling him that several paranormal investigators had made trips to Dead Man’s Hole to document any ongoing activity. Katrina Kindred and her partner Kelli Lindsay with Austin Paranormal had been warned by a psychic associate of theirs that Dead Man’s Hole had a “serious energy pull” they needed to be careful of while conducting their investigation.

“When we got there, almost all of our equipment failed,” said Katrina.

“We had two video recorders that had been charging over twenty-four hours, and a brand new pack of batteries,” she continued. “One video recorder never even turned on, and the other went dead in about a minute. When we opened the battery package, all eight of the brand new batteries had been drained. The only thing that worked was our audio recorders.”

In digging a little deeper, I also found that several other teams had been out to Dead Man’s Hole in an attempt to document paranormal phenomena. Wendy Wilkins and Jennifer Trout of the Travis County Ghost Hunters have also spent nights out at the cave’s entrance and have been able to capture disembodied voices each time. One voice seems to give an indecipherable response to a request to tug on a rope Wendy and Jennifer had lowered into the cave from a small opening at the
top. Another of these recordings sounds as if it may be the voice of a small child humming softly somewhere nearby.

According to their website, the Travis County Ghost Hunters have repeatedly captured these same voices on their subsequent visits, leading them to believe that Dead Man’s Hole is manifesting residual activity—a playback of sorts, an imprint of a moment in time that repeats itself and does not directly interact with the living.

When it came time for us to leave, we realized we had spent nearly two hours at Dead Man’s Hole, and that the strange silence we noticed when we first arrived was still lingering. It was as if we had been sitting inside a bubble that nothing could infiltrate. It was very strange to me, as I have never before encountered that sort of quiet in the outdoors, especially in the middle of a warm and humid day in Texas.

Dead Man’s Hole was once a good place to “get rid” of someone. It’s bad enough to think about all of the poor souls who lost their lives and were then thrown into the abyss of the cave, but as we know so little about the exact circumstances surrounding these people, imagine for a moment if one (or more) of them had actually been tossed in there alive? No one knows for sure just how many bodies fell into the darkness, but I know one thing is certain—today, something is reaching out from it.

JESSE LINCOLN DRISKILL purchased a city block in the heart of Austin in 1885 for $7,500 and set out to construct his dream—the Driskill Hotel. The construction cost $400,000, an exorbitant amount of money in those days. The hotel first opened its doors to guests on December 20, 1886. Mr. Driskill and his family had amassed a fortune in the cattle business, but subsequently lost it after three thousand of their herd perished in a freeze late in the spring of 1888. The hotel became too much of a financial burden that year, and Mr. Driskill was forced to sell it to Doc Day. Two years later, Driskill died of a stroke. A life-sized portrait of him was hung in the hotel lobby, where it remains today. He truly loved his hotel, and some say he died of a broken heart shortly after suffering its loss.

In 1895, Major George W. Littlefield purchased the hotel for $106,000 and vowed that it would never close again. He was
a successful cattle baron, served as the president of the Texas Rangers, and also worked in banking. When he acquired the hotel, he made additions that included steam heating, electric lighting, and several upgrades to the guest rooms. He also opened a bank in the lobby of the hotel, and the original vault and door are still intact.

Psychic healers and medicine men began to make frequent appearances at the hotel in 1909, attracting a large number of people in search of a magical elixir or a glimpse into their futures. Several political figures also utilized the property for various events. Texas politician Lyndon B. Johnson and his future wife Lady Bird enjoyed their first date dining at the Driskill. In 1948, he awaited results of his U.S. senate race against Coke Stevenson in the Jim Hogg suite—a race that Johnson ultimately won.

Ownership of the hotel has changed several times over the last century, and it has continually undergone major renovations with nearly every new owner. Millions of dollars have been spent to keep this beautifully historic building up-to-date and one of the most prestigious hotels in Texas.

Allen took me on my first trip to Austin when I was asked to present at a Ghostology Radio event with my friends Brian and Anna Marie Byers late in 2008. Allen mentioned that the Driskill was nearby, and that it was rumored to be haunted by several different entities. His stepsister Suzi had worked at the hotel a number of years earlier and recounted several of her experiences to him. If I was going to Austin, I thought, I was staying at the Driskill. I researched what I could about ghostly encounters and requested a night in one of their haunted rooms.

The exterior of the hotel literally took my breath away when we arrived at the Driskill. It was pristine and ornate. From the moment I stepped inside, I was mesmerized by just how beautiful and elegant the hotel was. It was instantly fascinating; I wanted to explore every inch of it.

Mike Kemp, director of sales and marketing for the Driskill, met us in the lobby to discuss all of the paranormal happenings in different areas of the building.

“We hear ghost stories from guests quite often here,” he said. “Some of them get really excited when they have taken pictures and an odd shadow or orb shows up in them.”