Read Chasing Spirits: The Building of the "Ghost Adventures" Crew Online
Authors: Nick Groff,Jeff Belanger
I jumped out of bed and went outside. I was dumbfounded. Her Honda was nowhere. So we went inside and I called the police. Over the phone the cop informed me, “Your car hasn’t been stolen; it’s been listed as repossessed.”
We had financed the car when we were both working, and I had forgotten to pay the bills. Without a car, Veronique couldn’t get to work. I drove a Toyota Echo, a college graduation gift from my parents. It was a stick shift, which Veronique didn’t
know how to drive. So I had to drive Veronique to and from work on the other side of town each day.
What’s it like to be alone in the dark in a haunted place with your camera as your only light source?
You’d be surprised how much you can see once your eyes adjust. But don’t take my word for it. Go turn off all of the lights in your home, turn on a video camera, and start walking around. It takes about three minutes for your eyes to really adjust to the low light. After that, getting around is a little easier. But you still don’t see everything. I’ve been cut, bruised, and bumped running into pipes, walls, debris, and all kinds of other junk that litters abandoned buildings.
Once you start getting behind in your bills, it’s so hard to catch up. Veronique and I didn’t fight about the money necessarily—we weren’t materialistic like that. But we were depressed because we didn’t know how we were going to get by, how we were going to pay for things. I started getting down on myself, feeling like shit for not being able to bring in more income. It sucks living in your apartment and looking and just seeing dollar signs. The lights on are costing us money, the TV is costing us money, the phone rings and it’s a reminder that we have a phone bill coming. Everything I see is a reminder that I need money.
When you’re in that situation, being home isn’t fun. There’s very little escape. I was lucky that I could still go out and play in
some pickup basketball games. That was still free. Sports helped me stay active and get away from the stress for a bit. Veronique had even less time to unwind. She worked almost nonstop. The only break from work she got was an occasional night out with her friends or a night in with me.
I started looking at everything in business as a hustle. I was always hustling for more jobs, more weddings, anything I could get my hands on. The problem was time. Filming took time, editing took a lot of time, and the money wasn’t that great.
Things continued to spiral down for us financially and soon we couldn’t afford our apartment anymore. My parents had to bail us out. We were lucky because they had recently purchased a house in Las Vegas when the housing market was good. We were able to move into the house with them while we saved up some money and got back on our feet.
We were starting to recover and got Veronique’s car back. With less money stress, I could focus on the documentary again.
I had set up an editing studio in my parents’ house and was ready to get back to work. Virginia City was amazing, but now we had to find someplace darker with even more paranormal activity.
I
t was Zak who discovered the Goldfield Hotel while researching haunted locations for the documentary. He showed me the history of the Goldfield on my computer. I was intrigued by the tragic and gruesome story that surrounded the old hotel.
It was a little over a month after we’d returned from Virginia City, and he and I had already begun putting the early touches on the film. We were feeling pretty good about what we had, but we were also hoping to end it with a bang, something truly phenomenal. So we continued to research other potential investigations, and the Goldfield called out to Zak.
I still remember him saying, “Hey, Nick, you’ve got to check this out. I just found this hotel that has some dark history. Supposedly a girl named Elizabeth died chained to the radiator in room 109 and her spirit is haunting the hotel.”
How come there has been no indisputable proof of the existence of ghosts?
There has been indisputable proof of the existence of ghosts. Millions of people around the world have encountered something they can’t explain in any way other than to call it a ghost. Their eyes, ears, and other senses are as good as yours or mine. Likewise, I’ve personally captured apparitions on film, a brick flying through the air, and countless EVP recordings. The problem is that some people can’t believe in ghosts, so no amount of evidence will convince them. Just like some people subscribe to a specific religion, there’s no point talking to that person about any other religion. They believe what they believe and that’s it.
Now, how many similar ghostly legends are there around the country, around the world? Having researched haunted locations for many years with my cousin Justin, I had heard of hundreds of other such haunted hotels. Yet as we began to read up on the Internet and started talking to people about the Goldfield, it became clear that this hotel might be something unique and just what we needed to end our film—it might be the place to have a profound paranormal experience as a group.
Through a local connection we were eventually able to get in touch with the owner of the property, Edgar “Red” Roberts. It took some financial convincing—something around two thousand dollars, the last of our budget—but we were granted access for one night. At first I thought this was a pretty steep price, but later I realized they were doing a good thing with our money because it went to help renovate and restore the hotel.
I called Aaron and asked if he wanted to come along, but he had to decline because of another job, and of course he too needed to pay the bills. But I think another part of it was that
Aaron, a very religious person, had also been shaken up by his experiences in Virginia City and wasn’t quite ready to face that again. For this trip, it would be just Zak and me.
After Virginia City, we had a different attitude heading into Goldfield. Our investigation style was evolving. I had a taste for this now, and I wanted more. We did a ton of research on the proper ways to conduct a paranormal investigation, but nothing would prepare us for what we were about to experience!
Zak and I loaded up my car with our equipment and headed up to Goldfield, Nevada. During that long ride, it was as if the personal and the professional parts of our identities were already becoming established. While we were on the road, we goofed around a lot and joked with each other. But then, when we were shooting, we were all business. Along the way, we filmed various scenic shots, and we even stopped and filmed an intro in front of the welcome sign to Goldfield (which we didn’t use in the film). I’m not sure if what we captured on film actually expressed our feelings as we headed into Goldfield, that sort of buildup to something that we knew could have a lingering effect on our lives.
When we got into town, there was a festival going on. The town isn’t highly populated, so there were more people on the street than usual. We were able to walk around town and speak with some of the locals about the Goldfield, Zak with his wireless microphone and I with a shotgun mic attached to my camera.
This is how we found out about Virginia Ridgeway, who had been the longtime caretaker of the hotel. After we’d connected with Red, he brought us to her house. Virginia was a wealth of information. I loved how organically this came together for us,
which is really how the research phase should work. You talk to people and ask them who else might know something about the haunt. If they trust you, they’ll pass you along to another person who may have had a supernatural experience at the location.
For us coming in as investigators, our focus is on the paranormal activity of a particular location. But to speak with someone like Virginia, whose life is so connected with the Goldfield, we were able to gain a new reverence and respect for its history.
From a documentarian point of view, it was just two guys filming the entire last thirty minutes of the film. It was just a true, raw documentary. The viewer could see the investigation unfold as we moved through the building.
We spent the daylight hours filming interviews and finding out more about the hotel. The town of Goldfield was another Nevada mining town, but gold wasn’t discovered here until the twentieth century.
In 1902, a Shoshone Indian named Tom Fisherman walked into nearby Tonopah with some gold ore. Word spread that he’d found it about twenty-five miles north, and it didn’t take long before a boomtown erupted in Goldfield. In the first six weeks of 1904 alone, the population grew from four hundred to more than a thousand.
Thousands more flocked to the region to stake a claim and work the mines for gold. Within a few short years, Goldfield
would become the most populous town in Nevada, with almost twenty thousand residents.
Some of those residents were quite famous. In 1904, Wyatt and Virgil Earp came to town to serve as lawmen. The Earps, those Old West legends, stood right here in Goldfield. I think about that when I’m walking through town. In fact, Virgil Earp died here—in April of 1905 he caught pneumonia and died six months later, on October 19, 1905.
In 1905, a fire wiped out a good portion of town, including the Nevada Hotel. In 1906 another fire destroyed more businesses. The dry desert air combined with driving winds meant even the smallest fires had the potential to be catastrophic. Fire leaves a mark and it destroys, but with destruction comes new opportunities.
Living in Goldfield was tumultuous. In 1907 a financial crisis led the local Consolidated Mining Company to pay its workers in scrip—paper that was good only at the company’s store—with no promise that the scrip would ever be worth anything. Workers were furious; they staged a strike and took to the streets, pledging to bring mine production to a standstill. Local business owner George Winfield had enough political clout to convince Nevada senator George Nixon to wire the governor, who contacted President Roosevelt. The president agreed to send three companies of U.S. infantry into Goldfield to try to restore order. The military forced miners to get back to work. Those who didn’t like the deal could quit.
Eventually labor laws would change, forcing employers to pay workers in U.S. currency, but that wouldn’t be for several
years. Conflicts like this led to more organized unions and employment laws; the strike in Goldfield was one of many battles in the war for fair working conditions in the United States.
In 1908 the Goldfield Hotel was built on the site of the former Nevada Hotel. The architect was George E. Holesworth, under the direction of the hotel’s first owner, J. Franklin Douglas. When it opened, it featured 154 rooms with telephones, electric lights, and a heating system. The lobby was lush—mahogany furniture, gold-leaf ceilings, crystal chandeliers. A swanky place.
The boom didn’t last long in Goldfield. Around 1910, the amount of gold production declined and residents started leaving. By 1920, the mines were drying up, so workers dropped their tools and headed for more golden pastures. By 1930, the town’s population had fallen to less than a thousand people.
The history of a place is important to our investigation, not just a random listing of dates. If we start capturing evidence, sometimes we can line it up with one of the historical figures related to the site. If I get a name on an EVP reading, for instance, I can check it against the people we know about the site from its history, which has an effect on our approach to the investigation.
When I first walked in, I tried to envision what the Goldfield must have looked like in its heyday. I put myself into the mind-set of someone in 1908. I tried to tune in. Then I shook my head out of the temporary fog and saw the peeling paint, the dust,
and the broken walls. With our daytime walk-through over, we headed back outside to get ready for the investigation.
As night fell, we made our way into the hotel, and the ominous feelings started to creep in. Just standing outside the Goldfield Hotel was overpowering. You can arrive at a location knowing all the history, but that doesn’t prepare you for the energy you’ll feel when you’re standing right in the doorway to this dark place.
Locations like the Goldfield Hotel can draw in these negative energies. A tragic event feeds paranormal occurrences. People visit the place, learn about the tragedy, and are afraid of what might be lurking. Over time that fear compounds, creating a dark haunt.
Standing in the doorway of the Goldfield Hotel was the exact moment we first learned how to convey our emotional approach to the viewer. This is something you have to learn and keep learning, like playing an instrument. At first you learn how to make a sound, but then over time and with practice you start to create melodies that evoke an emotion in those who hear them. That’s how it is with the emotions we experience on our investigations. We’ve gained that knowledge by experiencing them and getting better at capturing them, and over the years we’ve just started to pick up on things more and realized how our senses react to certain things. We wanted to be raw, to share every experience just as we experience it. We need to forget the cameras are there and just react.
Everybody reacts differently. It took time for us to realize just how we would process it all, but it all started in the doorway of the Goldfield Hotel.
This place looked just like something out of one of those horror films I’d loved my whole life. Looking up into the busted
windows on the upper floors, I half expected to see Anthony Perkins in a wig staring back at me. But it wasn’t just the fictional horror that was weighing on my mind, it was a good degree of actual fear. As we crossed the hotel’s threshold, two thoughts were running through my head. First:
Holy shit! This is creepy! It’s complete darkness in here
. But then, after a few moments, it was more: You know, it’s dark and I have only my camera light to guide me. This is awesome.
It was that dichotomy at that moment that defined me both as an investigator and as a filmmaker.