April Slaughter (17 page)

“We’ve got ghosts,” he continued, “but I only know for sure who one of them is.”

“Who?”

“My late wife. She’d battled cancer, and died in February of 2002,” he said. “If I carry a drink around with me inside, she knocks it out of my hand. I know it’s her because she and I were married just days shy of fifty years, and she didn’t like me walking around with drinks.”

I could tell he missed her a great deal, but found it endearing that he spoke with humor about the mysterious little mishaps he believed her to be responsible for.

Several online sources also describe a tragic event that is said to have occurred in room #37. As the story goes, an injured World War II paratrooper came to the hotel on his way home to
his family after having been declared “missing in action.” When he arrived at the hotel, he was given several letters written by the woman he loved, and he began reading them out of sequence. Upon reading a letter in which the woman wrote that she was leaving him, the distraught veteran jumped to his death. Had he read the other letters that followed, he’d have discovered her regret and learned that she still loved him and wanted to be with him. Were these lovers forever tied to the Von Minden? Who really knew for certain?

As our conversation with Bill continued, we became even more curious about the activity others encountered in the hotel.

“What have some of your guests experienced here?” asked Allen.

“After my wife passed away, I was in the Hard Times with one of the guests, who was taking photographs. When the pictures were developed, you could clearly see the figure of a woman in one of them. It looked just like my wife standing there,” he said.

He also went on to describe an incident where two young boys had come to the hotel with their father, and while his attention was drawn elsewhere, the boys climbed out onto the fire escape from one of the upper-level windows. Bill had asked them to come back in due to safety concerns, and as the boys climbed back inside, their father snapped a photograph of them in the hallway.

“The picture clearly showed a man standing next to the boys that wasn’t visible when the photo was taken,” said Bill.

“I would love to see these pictures!” I exclaimed.

“Let me tell you about the pictures,” he said. “People take them and bring them into us. I put them in different places, and they come up missing. People are so intrigued by them that they take them.”

What a shame that is! I asked Bill if he was open to the idea of others coming to the hotel to investigate the reported paranormal phenomena.

“I’ve had several groups out, and it’s always interesting to see what they come up with,” he said. “Some people come and tell me they don’t believe the hotel is haunted. That’s okay, I’m not out to convince anybody. If you believe there are ghosts here, they’re here. If you don’t, then they’re not. Anyone interested is invited to visit and come to their own conclusions.”

Whether you stop in to stay the night, to see a movie, or just to walk the historic hallways of the Von Minden Hotel, be sure to say hello to Bill when you go—that is, if you can find him. You just might run in to someone else you didn’t expect.

I OFTEN WONDER HOW DIFFERENT life must have been during the early 1900s, as the turn of the century ushered in a new and exciting era filled with ambition, elegance, and beauty in America. As time progresses, this history is often forgotten as we focus our energies on moving forward with our own accomplishments. The old adage, “out with the old, in with the new” seems all too true today. I have always felt that in order to truly appreciate the present, one must take a step back and remember the past.

Whenever I happen upon a place that remains almost as it was during the younger years of this country, I try to imagine who might have been there before me and the types of joys and struggles they encountered during their lifetime. Oaklea Mansion was a pleasing discovery. When I set out to learn its story, I
knew something special was in store for me.

The colonial-style home was originally built in 1903 by Mr. Marcus Dewitt Carlock, Sr. He was a successful attorney who had been involved in many political ventures, and often entertained the politically elite of the time. The Carlock home was recorded as a Texas Historical Landmark in 1966; a marker bearing a brief history of the house is proudly displayed beside the front door.

Current owner Norma Wilkinson was born and raised in Winnsboro, and knew the Carlock family prior to purchasing the home in 1996. At the time, Mrs. Carlock—lovingly known as Rhea—was 89 years old and bedridden, unable to leave her home due to osteoporosis. She had come to Winnsboro a young bride and spent the rest of her life in this house, which she so dearly loved. Her husband had died just the year before, and Mrs. Carlock asked Norma to buy the home so that it would be well taken care of after her passing. Norma purchased the mansion and worked tirelessly to add those changes and additions Mrs. Carlock had always wanted for the home, but had never been able to accomplish because her husband preferred it to remain as plain as possible.

During the last three months of Mrs. Carlock’s life, Norma was there every day to visit her and to work on the house. While she did not survive long enough to see the mansion fully completed, Norma is sure that Mrs. Carlock is pleased with the way it turned out. Norma and her husband live in the home, but have also opened it to guests as the Oaklea Mansion Bed & Breakfast.

Many visitors to the mansion and its grounds have reported strange experiences during their stay, and paranormal teams have also investigated the home, finding that legitimate activity was indeed occurring there. Allen and I made arrangements to spend a night, and to discuss these experiences with Norma.

“Do you believe your home is haunted?” I asked.

“Well, I am a bit of a skeptic,” said Norma. “But I do believe in the possibility that it might be. I had one guest that spent a night in a room I call the ‘Angel Suite.’ When she came down for breakfast the next morning, she asked me if we had a cat in the house. I told her that, no, we did not . . . and I was curious why she asked. She told me that during the night, she felt what she thought might have been a cat jumping up onto the bed and rubbing up against her back. She has stayed with us a few times since then, but refuses to be placed in that room now.”

A year later, another guest of the B&B stayed in the Angel Suite and reported that she too felt the presence of a cat on the bed. Neither of the two women had known each other, and Norma had not discussed the previous incident with anyone.

Just prior to Mrs. Carlock’s passing, the woman who had been living with her to oversee her care woke up one night to check on her, when something odd caught her attention.

“Rhea had been restless, so Ms. Hammond [the caretaker] went to look in on her. She told me that she felt they had had a visitor in the night,” said Norma.

“When Ms. Hammond approached the back bathroom here on the first floor,” Norma continued, “she could smell the distinct scent of sweet tobacco smoke in the air. Mrs. Carlock attributed it to her late husband (who used to smoke tobacco), saying she believed ‘Papa’ was simply stopping by to check in on them.”

The smell of tobacco smoke was also experienced by Norma’s bookkeeper while Norma and her husband were away on vacation. The woman had been working at the computer when she thought she smelled smoke, which alarmed her and prompted her to thoroughly check the house for any problem. When she was unable to discover any potential danger, she returned to the computer to work and the smell of the tobacco smoke returned—
this time strong enough to scare her into immediately leaving the house.