I missed Benito the most. For a long time he had been my best friend. It didn’t matter that it had turned out to all be a lie. Not to me. I know, it sounds pathetic right? And I’d still take a bullet for him to this day if he were alive. But he’s not. He’s dead and he’s been gone for a while now. A few months maybe? Who knew. Despite myself, I had to check. I had to know. Nobody was looking that night. It felts strange to be digging into a fresh grave but nonetheless here I was with a shovel and a lantern doing something so senile I wondered if I had been spending too much time with my uncle; Like how Kyro says I do.

             ….But I’m right….

The casket is empty. Benito’s not there. I know where his body is and I know I’m running out of time but I can’t beg for help from the others…Benito was dead and he wasn’t coming back…so why should they worry if his body doesn’t exist anymore? I know it won’t phase them. It doesn’t matter to them..and I won’t burden them with my hair-brained schemes involving my old friend; my friends had done to much for me to drag them into that. I gave a brave sigh, nothing would happen to the body. At least not for a week. After that though…I would have to be brave and get it back from that awful place keeping it. My friend deserved a burial at the very least; he promised me he’d be buried.

Hours later, after I’ve patted the last of the dirt back into the ground and sat by the stone, just mourning; his family came. They knew me. As far as they knew I denied an arranged marriage with their son and quit a respectable job because I just didn’t like it. But they’ve never been mean to me; they understood. That is, until today.

“There she is. I can’t believe she came here.”
“I know. she’s caused enough trouble. Don’t you think?”
“He’s gone because of her.”

                      
                             ”He’s gone because of her”

Those were the words in a sighing whisper that slipped from his mother’s taught lips with such venom that it would be obvious to anyone that she wanted it to be heard. They blamed me. All of his family blamed me for Benito’s death.

I stood and turned to them. When Benito was alive, I could’ve been brave and faced them. Told them that I wasn’t to blame for anything and that they should step off. But I wasn’t strong right now. All I could see were the looks of disgusted hate burning into my soul by a group all dressed in black.

                        ”You shouldn’t be here.”

Ice cold words stung at me as his father looked down on me like I was lower than the bit of dog-crap stuck under his wife’s high-heel that she hadn’t noticed; I did because I could only bring my eyes to the ground to look away. To do anything.

Before I could really tell you how it happened, one of his cousins slapped me across the face and I just let him. The other cousins took this as an okay to start kicking me. Again, I just let them. In a way, it was my fault. By the time night came, I was bruised and bloodied all over. I had marks in my arms now from Benito’s father’s boot; he’d stepped on my arms. There was a smear of dog-crap on my back where his mother’d cut her heal into it mercilessly right over my old scar causing it to bleed profusely again. The entire time, I didn’t speak. I didn’t say a word. I deserved this. They had a right to blame me. To take it out on me. Right? Finally, I felt a smooth hand lift my chin up to face someone. This is the part I couldn’t believe. Benito’s doctor was a good friend of his family’s and with Benito. He had tried to convince me many times to see this woman for medical help and though I was scared crikeless of her we still maintained a stable conversation every now and then.

For a moment, I thought that maybe someone didn’t blame me. It was foolish to think that. Before I knew it I had three matching claw-marks mixed in with drying nail-polish; it wasn’t the kind of deep thing that would stay; it would be gone in a few days. However, there would be no way to hide it from my family. I wondered meekly if they’d believe whatever lie I came up with.

It was midnight when the last of Benito’s relatives finally tired of beating me. I waited until they had left the grave-site to get up and limp home. I deserved everything they did. No matter how you looked at it, Benito’s death was all my fault. They had a right to blame me.

Marriage certificates may provide you with that all elusive maiden name of your female relative.  Many certificates list other valuable information, but is specific to the area. 

Tombstones

I have actually found tombstones that state something like:

Mary Ethel Jones Smith

Wife of John Jay Smith

Born in ABC County, Virginia

Imagine obtaining all that information from one tombstone.  Further, when you locate your relatives in the graveyard, don’t leave.  Look around.  It does not take more time than it would if you had to return.  I have found two more generations further back than I expected.  And extra siblings with the same last name. 

Other Records

Do not forget to consider records like social security and the like.  Land owner record rosters are sometimes published in book form in the appropriate county.  Military records are another great source of information.  Very old (Civil War and the American Revolution) war service records have extensive publishings.  If your relative was a private, he will at least be listed as one line in one of the many published resources available.  The men that served as officers usually have more than one line and a list of their accomplishments.  

Retirement records from the service and pension drawings are also quite extensive published from the same war eras.  But do not be deterred if you have to investigate further. 

Funeral homes may also be a good source of records.  Some funeral homes have been in an area for over 100 years and have handled many family deaths.  One funeral home I visited in Cleveland, Tennessee, had senior pictures on the wall of all the local high school graduating classes back to at least 1910.  Now that is history.

With the advent of the internet, many year book copies are showing up online.

Take The Sidewalk Chalk

If you have never visited a really old grave before, you are in for a shock.  If you locate your suspected relative, you may not be able to read the tombstone.  There are several tricks to try.  One is to have a pencil and paper.  Put the paper over the tombstone and pencil over the entire area.  Any data will be indented where the tombstone was cut.  This method is often used by relatives who visit a war memorial with names inscribed on the stone.

But you will face another issue.  The gravestone may be so old it is completely dark and illegible.  And you want undisputed evidence of what is printed as someone may say you wrote it down wrong.  Enter the sidewalk chalk.  Scape over the whole area with the sidewalk chalk.  You will be amazed.  Not only can you read everything written, you are not harming the stone.  The chalk will disappear after the next big rain.  And the color variation will show up well in the pictures.  Make sure you talk different colors of sidewalk chalk as there are tombstones with different color stones.

Dress Up

This does not mean to dress up fancy.  It refers to completely dress up and cover your legs, arms, and hands.  You will be in a very old cemetery with critters.  Not to mention what type of other things if it is not kept up.   And do you really want to touch that green stuff with your hand?

Take A Flashlight And Camera

The camera may be as simple as the one in your cell phone.  But have you thought about such things as taking a picture of the road sign in relation to the wooded hill you had to climb to find the cemetery?  Such was what I did when trying to locate a cemetery out in the middle of nowhere.  Another item to consider is to have a camera backup storage unit.  This same cemetery was where no cell phone reception was available.  I could not send myself the pictures and delete them to make more room for more pictures.  Most cell phones I have purchased have limited storage.  And pictures and music take up a lot of room.

Take a flashlight as you will not know what conditions are present for picture taking until you arrive.  An extra light shining on the target will make a picture pop better.  And the name of the game is legibility.

Get a garbage bag

I know I know, this isn’t the ghetto. You don’t do things the ghetto way. Lets face it though, the criminals of the ghetto are the ones who have known how to get rid of bodies for generations, so for just once let’s listen to thier glorious wisdom. Stuff the stiffy into a bag and surround it with kitty litter. This will keep the stiffy from smelling up the place as bad and drawing attention. If room permits, add in some real garbage, used condomns, old food, your dignity, etc. to give a more natural stench to the bag.

Give the body some food

Well… or give the body AS food. Add in a few worms, fungus, etc. to get that body decomposed quickly in case you’re stupid enough to follow my flawless advice and STILL be caught. After all, we know that your mistakes are NEVER my fault. Make sure that body can’t be identified, and give some smaller creatures dinner for a lifetime. It’s a win win! For those of you who are too blonde to understand, The more bugs you put in, the faster that stiffy goes bye bye.

Throw the stiffy into the dumpster

If you followed my genius advice above (And I know you all did) the body bag containing the body bag should smell like well… garbage. Throw it in the dumpster and wait for it to be taken away. Nobody should notice anything unusual, and I mean come on… if someone happened to notice a stronger smell than usual for some reason well… it’s a trashcan. What are they going to suspect? Most people are so protected and unaware of the realities of life that they won’t even know what a corpsie smells like anyways. Just pray you don’t live near a cop or a mortician. (Although if a mortician finds it you can probably give them some alone time with the stiffy as payment to keep their mouths shut. I hear alot of morticians are into cracking open the cold ones.)

Now if you followed my amazing advice congratulations. Your stiffy is gone in a jiffy. Anyone finds it at the dump, it’ll be too decomposed to be identified or traced. Genius right? I know I am. I’ve done it tons of times! Literally so many times I lost count… well… in my dreams… or video games… or roleplays. Never in real life… otherwise knowing me I would fuck it all up and be in jail right now haha. Anyways hope it gave you a laugh, I was bored. This is NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!!! The last thing I need is to be sued or the po po show up on my doorstep because someone followed my “advice.” >.< Then I’d be behind bars and I’d probably drop the soap… damn I’m clumsy…

Martha Jane Cannary, was born in Princeton, Missouri, on 1 May, 1851, the eldest of six children. Her father, Robert, a farmer, who seemed incapable of settling moved the family to Virginia City, Montana, when Martha was aged 8. Always struggling to make ends meet, Robert moved the family on again in the Spring of 1866, to Salt Lake City in Utah. Over the next few months Martha was to endure a series of devastating blows. Both her younger sister Charlotte and her mother were to die on the journey. Less than a year later in 1867, her father died, leaving the 15 year old Martha to take care of the children. Wanting to leave bad memories behind her she moved the family on again this time to Wyoming. There she provided for her siblings as best she could taking work as a dishwasher, a cook, a waitress, a dance hall girl and even took a job labouring on the Union Pacific Railroad before finally turning to prostitution.

Described at the time as “a pretty, dark-eyed young girl” she was small, barely five feet tall, and very slight. But she had a vile temper and a violent nature. A heavy drinker since childhood, she chain-smoked and could swear as well as any man. Famous for dressing as a man, she had a preference for buckskin, her feminine features prevented her from ever passing for one.

Despite her many rough edges she was a woman who was capable of acts of great kindness. A friend, Colonel Lounsberry wrote of her, ” She waltzes on one leg, and polkas on the other, and thereby makes her living. Living amongst rough associates she has never learned the social graces but I have never met a woman more readily brought to tears by a reproach, by kind words, or by a sad story.”

Surprisingly intelligent for someone who’d had no formal education she was both literate and on occassions articulate. In 1874, she got a job as a scout at Fort Russell and participated in the on-going Indian Wars. It was during her time as a scout that she honed her shooting and riding skills. The same year she saved the life of a Captain Egan who had been wounded during an Indian attack. She later claimed that it was Captain Egan who gave her the nickname Calamity though it was more likely that it came from her constant mention of the fact that it would be a calamity fr anyone to offend her.

By this time always referred to as Jane, in 1876 she served in the campaign at Little Big Horn that was to result in the death of General Custer and his entire command*. Bearing important dispatches from General Crook she swam the Platte River and rode full pelt for 90 miles through hostile territory to ensure that they were delivered on time. She soon won a reputation as someone who was never afraid of the fight.

In early 1876, she met Wild Bill Hickok for the first time, though she always claimed that they had met much earlier in 1873 and that they had in fact married and she had borne his child, but there is little evidence for this. Indeed, it is with Hickok that her name is most closely associated. She was certainly infatuated with him even if their relationship never seems to have been that close. When he was murdered during a poker game in August, 1876, she went looking for his killer, Jack McCall, and confronted him. Sadly, in her anger she had neglected to take her guns, otherwise, she later claimed, she would have shot him. Instead, he got the sharp end of her tongue, which could be very sharp indeed. McCall would later hang for the crime.*

During the Winter of 1876, she nursed the victims of a smallpox epidemic and was widely praised for her kindness, courage, dedication, and hard work. She was also to save the lives of those aboard a stagecoach that had been attacked by Indians., Using her riding skills to lure some of the Indians away from the attack she returned to the stagecoach to take up the reins after its driver had been killed and all of the male passengers had refused to do so. She managed to drive them all to safety.

With the end of the Indian Wars, Jane returned to prostitution from time-to-time to make ends meet. In 1881, she met and married the Texan Clinton Burke and moved with him to Boulder, Arizona, where opened and ran her own saloon. In 1887, she gave birth to a daughter she named Jane, who she soon after gave up for adoption. It was a decision that was to haunt her for the rest of her life and after her death dozens of letters were found that Jane had written to her daughter but had never dared send.

Jane’s life now began to descend into a prolonged bout of drinking, smoking and bar room brawls. Famous from her deeds being written up in the Dime Novels of northern writers and the publication of a successful biography she used her celebrity to cadge free drinks and to charge more for her sexual favours.

In 1893, her life was rescued briefly from its downward spiral when Buffalo Bill Cody persuaded her to join his Wild West Circus, along with her old foe Sitting Bull, with whom she toured Europe showing off her riding skills and doing trick shots. Always tempestuous and unreliable Buffalo Bill was finally forced to fire her, though he would always speak kindly of her.

By 1903, she had returned to live in the Black Hills of Dakota where she earned her living doing the laundry for Madame DuFran’s brothel. By this time the chronic alcoholism had taken over. On 1 August, 1903, following a heavy drinking session she developed pneumonia. She never recovered and died the same day, aged 51. 

* See related articles: Custer’s Last Stand and Wild Bill Hickok: Dead Man’s Hand.     

John was educated at the Valdosta Institute, Georgia, where he learned grammar, rhetoric, mathematics and history. He was also fluent in French, could speak Latin and Ancient Greek, and could play the piano passably well. By the time he completed his studies, John Holliday was every inch the polished southern gentleman. In 1870, he left Griffin, Georgia, to study dentistry in Philadelphia from where he graduated in March, 1872. But by this time, the pitifully thin, ashen faced Holliday had already been diagnosed with tuburculosis and given just a few months to live. In response to this, he decided to move south-west where it was thought the drier climate might improve his health.

John Henry “Doc” Holliday

In September, 1873, he settled in Dallas, Texas, where he opened a dental surgery. It wasn’t a success as people stopped visiting once they found out about his condition. Already a heavy drinker and regular in the local saloons he soon found gambling to be a more lucrative source of income than his chosen profession. However, after being arrested for murder following a gunfight and his subsequent acquittal, and several other incidents, he decided to quit the State of Texas altogether. Imbued with a fiery temper and an innate volatility of character that was only exacerbated by his condition topped up, as it was, with copious amounts of alcohol, Doc, as he was by now already known, seemed always to be involved in some dispute or other. As his tuberculosis worsened so his drinking increased. Often intoxicated he let it be known that he preferred a violent death than having to succumb to illness. Travelling further West, Doc made a living as a gambler and faro dealer in towns such as Denver and Deadwood, and he soon gained a reputation as a violent man. It was also around this time that he met Mary Kate Horony ( Big Nose Kate ) a prostitute of Hungarian birth, who was to be his partner and accomplice for the rest of his life.

Wyatt Earp

In 1878, whilst residing in Dodge City he intervened in a fight on behalf of Wyatt Earp, whom he had met previously in Tucson. Wyatt later credited Doc with saving his life. In the preamble to a fight Doc would often call someone out with the phrase “I’II be your huckleberry”. Soon after the incident in Dodge, Doc knifed a fellow gambler Ed Bailey to death over a disputed card game. Doc was known to be as lethal with a knife as he was with a gun and he was rumoured to have already killed a number of people in this way. In July, 1879, Doc was arrested for shooting dead a U.S Army scout, Mike Gibson, in a gunfight. He was acquitted after no witnesses could be found willing to testify against him. By now nearly always drunk to some degree or other, his reputation was for being quick on the draw. But he was also notoriously inaccurate. Any number of innocent bystanders were wounded in gunfights involving Doc Holliday.

Wyatt Earp

In September, 1880, he moved to Tombstone, Arizona, probably at the request of the Earp’s, who were expecting trouble with the cowboy faction in town, particularly the Clanton’s and McLaury’s. Holliday, who was disputatious by nature, soon found himself embroiled in local politics. On the night before the infamous incident at the O.K Corral a drunken Holliday confronted Ike Clanton who was eating lunch in a saloon. He berated Ike in the most abusive terms trying to goad him into going for his gun. He threatened to kill Ike there and then, but Ike stayed calm and refused to rise to the bait. A disgruntled Holliday left the saloon but not until he had muttered dire consequences on the morrow. Previously, in August, 1881, Old Man Clanton (Ike’s father) and four other cowboys were killed in an ambush. Doc was implicated in the murders, and given his antipathy towards the Clanton’s his involvement cannot be ruled out. It was said that the walking stick he used thereafter was a result of the wounds he sustained in the gunfight.

Gunfight at the O K Corral

Believing that the Clanton’s and McLaury’s were in town to kill them, Marshal Virgil Earp determined to act first. Along with his brothers Wyatt and Morgan, and joined by Doc, he cornered the Cowboys in the O K Corral. It seems likely that Virgil only intended to disarm and detain the Cowboys who had infringed a town ordinance by carrying firearms within its precincts. But the tension that built up as the two groups eye-balled each other became unbearable. Doc, who was carrying a shotgun given to him by Morgan Earp, who saw he could conceal it under his long coat, helped provoke the confrontation by remonstrating with one of the McLaury’s and violently pushing him in the chest. Soon after Wyatt Earp and Frank McLaury drew on one another firing almost simultaneously. They missed, but Doc didn’t, and he shot Frank McLaury dead. In less than a minute it was all over. Tom and Frank McLaury and young Billy Clanton were dead. All the Earp’s and Doc Holliday had been wounded. Hostilities didn’t end there, however. In December, 1881, Virgil Earp was shot and maimed for life. In March, 1882, Morgan was shot in the back and killed. The remaining Earp’s decided to flee Tombstone. But Wyatt would have his revenge.

Wyatt Earp’s Revenge Ride

Determined to avenge himself on those who shot his brothers and restore the family honour, Wyatt quickly identified those he believed responsible. The first to die was Frank Stilwell, who was shot in cold blood by Wyatt and Doc, who accompanied him. Joined by old friends Sherman McMasters, Turkey Creek Jack Johnson, Texas Jack Vermillion, and Wyatt’s younger brother Warren, Wyatt and Doc now embarked upon a three week orgy of violence.

This became known to history as Wyatt Earp’s Revenge Ride. By the time they had finished at least 8 Cowboys lay dead, though the final figure may have been much higher. In July, 1882, the legendary Johnny Ringo was shot dead in Tombstone. Rumours persist that Doc Holliday was responsible and that his murder was Wyatt’s reward for Doc’s loyalty. Johnny Ringo, had earlier had a violent altercation with Doc during which Doc had been heard to remark, “All I want from you is ten paces out in the street”. Their thirst for revenge sated, Doc and Wyatt went their separate ways. Doc travelled to Colorado where his health went into steady and irreversible decline, and he was dependent upon large doses of laudanum and alcohol to see him through the day. Finally, he settled in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, hoping the waters there would help clear his lungs. But he was dying and despite his best endeavours to do otherwise he would die in his bed. Committed to a nursing home he spent the last months of his life bed-ridden and slipping in and out of consciousness. Receiving Absolution he died on 8 November, 1887, his last words were “I’II be damned. This is funny”. He was just 36. His tombstone reads – Doc Holliday 1852 – 1887. He died in his bed.

Wyatt Earp wrote of his friend: ” Doc was a dentist not a lawman or an assassin, whom necessity had made a gambler, a gentleman whom disease had made a frontier vagabond; a philosopher whom life had made a caustic wit. A long, lean, ash-blond fellow nearly dead with consumption, and at the same time the most skillful gambler and the nerviest, speediest, deadliest man with a gun that I ever knew.”

Once asked if he ever had a conscience about his killing, Doc replied, ” I coughed that up with my lungs years ago.”

I was introduced to it by Beth, with whom I work.  She is in love with the place and has been going there for over 30 years.  It’s her place of peaceful retreat.  She’s a wonderful tour guide, full of interesting information about so many of the gravesites and their occupants.  She is even considering having her wedding there in the beauty and spiritual atmosphere of her favorite place.

I have gone back a few times myself, camera in hand, to capture photos of the incredible statuary.  My first visit and photos produced a very puzzling and intriguing surprise.  At home and looking at the images I caught, I found one with an interesting mist at the gravesite of General A. D. Streight.  I showed the picture to some friends who had more technical knowledge about photography than I do to see what they thought. 

They had no pat answer other than to suggest that I go back again for more pictures and see what happened.  So, I went back to visit the General, and a second shooting revealed another mist in attendance at his site.  The first, as shown by the photo here, has a more blanket like and obvious mist by the site.  The second photo shows a smaller and circular mist near the top of the tombstone and off a bit to the left.

The two pictures were taken on different days, one sunny and one overcast.  They were also taken on two different cameras.  Other pictures were taken on both days of different sites with no mists appearing in them.  A third trip and new pictures showed no mist at all. 

I have included the pictures below so that you may judge for yourself.  I have also given a brief history of the General and his wife, who I find a very interesting woman, especially her actions after the death of her husband. 

General Abel. D. Streight was a book and map publisher.  He joined the Union army in 1861 as a colonel in the Fifty-first Indiana Infantry.  He was captured and was a prisoner of war for 10 months at Libby Prison in Richmond.  He and 107 other soldiers escaped from the barracks by digging a tunnel under the prison grounds. 

His wife, Lovina, accompanied him on his campaign nursing the wounded.  She was captured three times and traded twice for war prisoners.

His campaigns were disappointing because the budget didn’t allow for him to have horses so he and his troops went to war on mules.  His battles were unsuccessful.He retired a brigadier general and became a senator for Indiana. 

His wife had him buried on the front lawn of their home and then arranged a yearly reunion of the Fifty-first regiment.  Soldiers would camp on her lawn.  When she died, she was buried at Crown Hill Cemetery with full military honors.  Abel Streight was exhumed from the front lawn of the family home and buried beside her. 

Relatives contested her will stating she was not of sound mind and body when she signed it.  “Evidence” of her lack of mental stability was her practice of picnicking at her husband’s gravesite, wearing bright clothes, and dancing with the neighborhood children.  She had also embraced spiritualism and would have lengthy conversations with Abel at his gravesite.  A jury agreed that she was not of sound mind, and her will stipulating that her property and possessions be used for the purpose of establishing a home for elderly women was declared invalid.

To be honest, the mysterious mists by the General’s grave have made me feel that it wasn’t the general.  I can’t say why, it just felt that it might be from another source.  Upon reading this information about his wife, Lovina, I feel it more likely that if the mist is to be attributed to anything or anyone in a spiritual sense, it would be her.  She sounds to me like the type of personality to be hanging around in such a way.

Pioneer Hotel

In 1970, Tucson suffered one of the biggest fire disasters of its history. On December 20, 1970 a fire began to engulf the upper floors of the Pioneer Hotel. While people on the lower floors managed to escape, the people on the upper levels were not so lucky. People who were trapped by the fire leapt to their deaths from windows. A mother, frantic by the idea of being engulfed by the flames, threw a mattress outside her window in a desperate attempt to save her children. All perished. Many others tried this attempt as well, only to be crushed against the pavement. Others died from smoke inhalation while trying in vain to wait for rescue from fire fighters. A 16-year old boy was later arrested and charged with the deaths of 29 individuals. Although the building has been restored and turned into office buildings, many have reported strange happenings. Late at night, employees have reported smelling acrid smoke and hearing frantic running on the upper floors. Some have heard screaming and the crying of children. Others have felt a sense of being trapped and desperation. More terrifying yet, is the account of a few who have seen the images of burnt bodies in the mirrors of the restrooms. One woman was so horrified, she quit her job the very day she saw the image.

Superstition Mountains

How far would you go in search for a treasure beyond your imagination?

Would you be willing to die for it? Legend tells of a mine that is unlike any other. It is called the Lost Dutchman’s Mine. Many who have gone in search for this elusive gold never return. In the Superstition Mountains the legend of this mine has taken a life of its own. The mountain itself is not one single mountain, but rather a chain of cliffs, peaks, plateaus, peaks, and mesas. Within this rough terrain, people have become lost, or have killed each other in their mad search for this gold. It is said that an Apache Thunder God who protects the mine from would-be-looters curses the place. When Francisco Vasquez de Coronado searched through here for the famed Seven Golden Cities of Cibola, his men began to disappear. When their bodies were found, many were headless, and mutilated. The rest of the Spaniards fled in terror, and Coronado dubbed the mountains, Monte Superstition. In the 1880’s, Don Miguel Peralta eventually discovered bits of gold. But the Apaches became angered by his presence. When he got word of their planned attack, he tried to escape with his men. It was to no avail, as all were massacred. It was said that 100-400 men perished in the massacre. A man by the name of Walz (who was the “Dutchman”) began to display vast amounts of gold throughout Phoenix in the late 1880’s. Although he was of German descent, the mine was dubbed after this miner. How he came about his vast amounts of wealth remains a mystery, although stories have speculated that he received a map from Peralta when he saved him from a knife fight. Over the century, dozens of bodies have been found scattered throughout the mountain range. Some have been mutilated and beheaded, while many had been shot through the head. All deaths remain a mystery to this day.

Tombstone

In a town where many lived and died by the gun, it is not surprising that the dead are unable to let go here. At one of the more famous haunts resides the O.K. Corral, the scene of one of the most famous gunfights in history. On that fateful afternoon of October 26, 1881, Wyatt Earp and his brothers, along with skilled gunman Doc Holiday, armed themselves and walked to the corral to confront a group of cowboys. In the group of the cowboys was the Clanton gang. Virgil, the oldest Earp, charged the Clantons with illegally bringing guns into Tombstone. For whatever reasons, Doc Holiday and Morgan Earp opened fire on the gang, and a gunfight ensued. After a matter of seconds, 3 men lay dead, Billy Clanton, Frank McLaury, and Tom McLaury. Since the gunfight, people have reported seeing ghostly apparitions, feeling cold-spots, hearing footsteps, and feeling hands upon them. Some have even reported seeing the armed gunmen who died in the gunfight.

The Dark Cell

In Yuma from 1876-1909 was a prison that once housed more than 3,000 inmates. Those that dared misbehave were thrown into the dreaded cell for solitary confinement. The cell was no more than ten by ten feet, and had a small ventilation shaft on the ceiling. The inmate would be shackled by two ringbolts, and all they would have to eat is bread and water once a day. When the sun went, the inmate would be submerged in complete darkness. Sometimes snakes, scorpions, and spiders would find their way into the cell, further tormenting the inmate. Many prisoners who left the cell would end up in the insane asylum in Phoenix. Many have felt cold-spots, or felt someone touching them when visiting the cell. Employees have heard screaming and cries for help coming from the cell as well. A writer for Arizona Highways wanted to experience the cell when writing an article. She wanted to be treated in the same manner as the inmates; to be shackled and only fed a loaf of bread and some water. The ventilation shaft was covered to leave out any light. She tried to maintain her exposure for 48 hours, but fell short of her goal. She began screaming to be let out, as she felt that she was not alone.

Charleston Bridge

Located between Sierra Vista and Tombstone is the old Charleston Bridge. It isn’t uncommon to run into someone from Sierra Vista who will tell you that at some point in their life, they have experienced the ghost of Charleston Bridge. Many stories abound as to who this mysterious lady was, but no one knows for sure who she really is. One popular story says that a woman who was madly in love with a man wanted desperately to be with him. But since she had children, the man cut off the relationship. In a moment of insanity, she took her children to the bridge and threw them over. When she told her lover what she had done, he became disgusted with her and wanted nothing more to do with her. Anguished by what she had done, she went to the same bridge and ended her life. Many claim that when they had driven over the old bridge, they would see a woman walking alone. People who didn’t offer her a ride would end up in horrible car crashes. Those that did would talk off how she left a wet spot on their passengers seat when she left. Many crosses mark the road from Sierra Vista to Tombstone, but whether or not that has anything to do with the mysterious lady is here say.

Apache Sitgreaves National Forests – Diamond Rock Camp (Springerville, AZ)

Once called home to the Apache Indians; this campground in the White Mountains sits alongside the East Fork of the Black River. The campsite is located in a valley, shaded by tall ponderosa pines and it is rumored to be the site of alot of paranormal activity. According to reports, photographic anomalies of a phantom woman have appeared in photos taken here at the camp. Strange sounds and noises have also been heard here by many visitors. People who visit the area report an uneasy feeling about the place and a feeling of being watched as well.

Bisbee Inn Bed & Breakfast (Bisbee, Arizona)

Many visitors to the Bisbee Inn have witnessed paranormal activity throughout the years. Room 23 as well as the blue room are two of the more active rooms in the building. In the Grand Ma room, various guest have reported seeing a spirit of an elderly woman. Thought to be a benevolent spirit, her presence has made some of the guest in the room alittle nervous.

Big Nose Kate’s Saloon building (Tombstone, Arizona)

Big Nose Kate’s Saloon Building can be found on 417 East Allen Street. Allen Street was the main drag which ran into the old town of Tombstone, and Big Nose Kate’s Saloon was located in the very center of it.

The Big Nose Kate’s Saloon Building opened in 1881, as a high class establishment, called The Grand Hotel, a classy place where the weary rested their heads, enjoyed fine dining, and a good brew in the basement bar. Local people, cowboys, miners, out of town travelers all enjoyed having a nice hotel in town. It probably hosted social events, like weddings as well. Wyatt and Virgil Earp, the Clantons and the McLaurys all stayed here a number of times. The Clantons and the McLaurys had stayed here the night before three of them were killed at the shoot out at the OK corral, which occurred on Wednesday, October 26th, 1881 around 3:00 pm.

A business-oriented, prosperous ex-prostitute, known by the name of Big Nose Kate, Mary Katharine Harmony, owned the Grand Hotel. Originally from Texas, Kate saved Doc Holiday’s life by busting him out of jail in Texas. Though they never got married, Doc Holiday was eternally grateful to her, and they had a long lasting relationship. They lived together in Tombstone for many years.

The building was built on top of a silver mine shaft, which runs underneath the town. There was a basement saloon, a basement bedroom, a first floor lobby, a dining area, and a second floor with an elegant parlor and 17 single rooms for the guests. There was a handsome staircase leading up to the second floor and guest rooms. Unfortunately the second floor and staircase leading up to it are gone now. Only a little balcony remains up there today.

Many people have reported witnessing paranormal activity here inside the building. An entity of a man, called Felix by the staff, dressed in 1880’s attire is seen wandering around the halls and rooms of the building. Another entity, this one a nicely dressed female entity, has been seen also dressed in 1880’s attire, with shoulder-length ringlets, holding a parasol. She has been seen standing in the halls and also has been spotted enjoying the musical entertainment from the balcony. A male entity, wearing a long-sleeved shirt, has been seen sitting at the bar in the basement area. Two cowboy ghosts have also been seen here as well as in the first floor bar too.

Two mannequins which were placed on the closed off balcony, have been known to be moved by an unknown presence. After hours, the owner, his brother, and a few friends were sitting at a table, when the female mannequin suddenly fell off of the balcony onto the floor below. The male mannequin was then seen turning its head. Glasses on the bars and tables have also been known to move by themselves.

Booted footsteps and jingling spurs have been heard on the stairs from the first floor to the basement, and in the first floor saloon as well. Witnesses have even heard disembodied voices coming from the basement area even when its suppose to be empty. This building is supposedly very haunted. There are many eye witness accounts here, and paranormal investigations have come up with some interesting results.

Buford House Bed & Breakfast (Tombstone, Arizona)

Located at 113 East Safford Street in Tombstone, Arizona. This adobe home was built in the 1880’s by George Buford, a prominent mine owner. Before becoming the bed and breakfast of today, it was called home to two sheriffs, a mayor, a state senator, and none other than Hollywood star John Wayne. Today, it is said to be haunted by the ghost of a young man who committed suicide here after his girl rejected him. Both the owners and guests have seen this ghost walking around inside of the house, as well as along the street in front of the old adobe structure. Often, the doorbell rings in the middle of the night, seemingly of its own accord. Others have reported hearing knocking on walls, faucets turning themselves on and off, and strange lights appearing. Some women have reported feeling someone touching their hair or stroking the back of their necks, even when no one was around them. And people have caught orbs, and strange lights appearing on photographs taken here at the Buford house.

Clawson House Inn (Bisbee, Arizona)

Three murdered miners are said to haunt this 3-room inn. In the 1890’s, there was a bitter labor dispute at the Queen mine southwest of town. Large numbers of striking workers were rounded up by authorities and shipped out of the area, and then strike-breakers moved in to take their jobs. According to some accounts, 3 scabs staying at the Clawson house were killed by strikers. Their spirits are said to be trapped in the house where they were killed. Along with the 3 murdered miners, another spirit has also been seen in the building. That spirit is believed to be the ghost of Mrs. Clawson. She has been seen on many occasions by guests and employees too.

Cochise Stronghold in Coronado National Forest (Douglas, Arizona)

Located to the west of Sunsites, Arizona in the Dragoon Mountains, this beautiful woodland area was once the refuge of the great Apache Chief, Cochise, and his people. At an elevation of 5,000 feet, Cochise Stronghold lies in a protective area of granite domes and sheer cliffs. In this area the spirit of a man playing a flute has often been seen atop the boulders that tower over the campsites. The spirit of Cochise himself is also said to walk among these hills.

Congress Hotel (Tucson, Arizona)

Built in 1919, the hotel was constructed to serve the growing cattle and railroad industries. The roaring 1920’s saw the hotel filled with both genteel travelers and high rollers.

However, this changed temporarily when on January 22nd, 1934, a fire started in the basement of the hotel and spread upwards through the elevator shaft. As the firemen helped the guests out of the windows via aerial ladders, an astute firefighter recognized several of the men as members of the John Dillinger Gang. Passing the information along, a stakeout was established and in the space of just a few hours the Tucson police had captured the gang that the combined forces of several states and the FBI had not been able to do. Today, the hotel has been artfully restored to its original Western version of art deco. Though no known ghosts of the Dillinger Gang haunt the hotel, it is home to a couple of other unearthly spirits. One known ghost, who is often seen staring out of a window, is of a man who suffered a heart attack and died inside the hotel. Room 242 is also said to be haunted by a troubled woman who shot herself in the bathroom after a standoff with the police and a SWAT team. Her apparition has been seen in the bathroom and in the hallway outside the room. Others have reported hearing strange noises and had nightmares while staying in that room.

Crater Range (Ajo, Arizona)

In the 1950s, a couple was married in Ajo and was driving to Lake Tahoe for their honeymoon. Around midnight, while they were passing through Crater Range, they lost control of their car and crashed into a big rock. Both of them were killed instantly.

It is said that if you drive through Crater Range after midnight you might just see the couple and their wrecked car on the side of the road.

Hassyampa Inn (Prescott, Arizona)

Located at 122 East Gurley Street in Prescott, Arizona. The Hassyampa Inn opened in 1927 as the Prescott’s grand hotel. Almost from the start, trajedy befell on the hotel. A newlywed honeymoon couple checked into the hotel as one of its first guests. The couple was checked into the balcony suite, and the groom soon stepped out to buy a pack of cigarettes. He never returned. After three days of waiting, the devastated bride killed herself by hanging herself off of the bell tower above her room.

Today her ghost, called Faith, apparently continues to wait for her long lost love. Numerous sightings of her spirit have been seen throughout the years here in the inn. She has been seen crying at the end of a bed, standing on a balcony holding flowers, and floating through the hallways in a pink gown. She is also thought to be behind such pranks as shutting off the gas burners in the kitchen, spilling coffee, and flapping bed sheets too. In addition to the forlorn bride a child spirit is also thought to lurk within the hotel. Although never seen, the child ghost has been heard by a number of guest. A bouncing ball is often heard coming from different areas of the hotel as well as the sound of a childs laughter.

Hermosa Inn (Scottsdale, Arizona)

In 1930, A cowboy/artist named Lon Megargee built the Hermosa Inn building on some land that he purchased in Paradise Valley. He helped build it with his own hands and money but afterwards couldn’t afford the house’s maintenance cost. To deal with the money shortage, he rented out rooms to travelers. This solution helped for awhile but unfortunately in 1941, Megargee was forced into selling it. Along with the house he built, Mr. Megargee also sold his furniture, his paintings, and everything else he had in the house. Today, some of his paintings still hang on the walls inside the Hermosa Inn.

Since Lon Megargee’s death in 1961, his spirit has been seen on the property many times. Witnesses reported seeing him in ghost form, dressed up like a cowboy. Other people have reported hearing toilets flush even when the bathroom was empty. And drinking glasses have also been knocked off tables and broken by an unseen force.

Hotel Lee (Yuma, Arizona)

Built in 1917 in the Spanish Colonial Revival architectural style, the Hotel Lee is Yuma’s oldest hotel. Located on a corner of what was once the busy Main Street of Yuma at the southern terminus of the commercial district, the hotel has been full restored today and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

It is also allegedly haunted by at least three different female spirits. The first spirit is that of the original owner who has been seen walking down the halls at night and has been known to knock and rattle the doors of the rooms. An Indian woman, thought to predate the hotel has also been seen here at the hotel most often hovering above the guest beds. Employees also blame her for moving tools and other small items only to replace them in odd places. The third ghost is that of a young teenage girl who has been spied walking down the back hall in the evening sometimes carrying towels.

Hotel Vendome (Prescott, Arizona)

Built in 1917, this two-story landmark hotel has hosted not only travelers but a number of Hollywood celebrities over the years. At some point in the early 1900’s, a woman named Abby came to Prescott in an attempt to heal herself of tuberculosis, then called “consumption.” She soon met and married a man and the pair bought the hotel. After a time, they lost the hotel due to unpaid taxes. However, the generous new owners allowed the couple to stay on at the hotel at no charge. Somewhere along the line, when her husband went out to get medicine, he never returned. The devastated Abby refused to eat or drink and ended up dying of starvation in Room 16 in 1921. After World War II, guests began to report seeing the ghost of Abby, along with her cat in the room that she died. Apparently still waiting for her husband’s return, she is described as a benevolent ghost, friendly to those that she encounters.

The Pointe Hilton Tapitio Cliffs Resort (Pheonix, Arizona)

Featuring dramatic views of the Valley of the Sun, the Pointe Hilton Tapatio Cliffs Resort offers over 500 rooms within a three-acre oasis of waterfalls, streams, and beautiful gardens. It also provides guests with the potential to see a ghost.

Some 20 years ago a drunken man attending a wedding reception walked up to the cliffs behind the ballroom of the hotel and accidently fell to his death. Today he is said to haunt the main ballroom, where the wedding reception he was attending years ago was held, as well as the boiler room.

The Red Garter Bed & Bakery (Williams, Arizona)

Located in an 1897 restored saloon and bordello, this two-story Victorian Romanesque brick building with twelve foot ceilings, skylights, and antique furnishings captures the 1890’s old western atmosphere without giving up the comfort and security expected by today’s traveler. Once considered the rowdiest business on William’s Saloon Row, the saloon and brothel continued to be operated until the mid 1940s, when a murder committed on the stairs of the Red Garter led to a city-wide crackdown on saloons and houses of ill repute. The building then served several different businesses including a general store and a rooming house. In 1994 it opened as the Red Garter Bed and Bakery.

Guests not only enjoy the bakery delicacies, but also that of a resident spirit called Eve. Described as a shy Hispanic girl, she has appeared in photographs, left her impression on mattresses, and has been heard coming up and down the stairs when no one else is present.

Royal Elizabeth Bed & Breakfast (Tucson, Arizona)

Located on 204 South Scott Avenue in Tucson. It is the oldest Victorian era inn operating in Arizona today. This adobe crafted mansion was built in 1878. Utilizing a combination of architectural styles, the classic 19th century home, hides an abundance of period antiques and beautiful woodwork inside. Originally serving as the personal home and offices for a prominent Judge Blenman, his descendents continued to occupy the home into their old age. Afterwards, the building began to fall into disrepair and was converted into small apartments. In 1998, it was fully restored to become the beautiful bed and breakfast inn of today.

Judge Blenman seemingly doesn’t wish to leave his old home as he has often been spied inside the inn, most often in the Sydney Marie Suite that once served as his law office. He has also been seen at the private entrance to the patio that adjoins the room and in the grand main hall as well.

San Carlos Inn Hotel (Pheonix, Arizona)

Hotel San Carlos is located at 202 North Central Ave in Phoenix, Arizona. Competed in 1927, the Italian Renaissance-inspired hotel was touted as one of the most modern hotels in the Southwest at the time. Being the first high-rise, fully air-conditioned hotel of the day, it soon became a gathering place for Phoenix’s elite as well as numerous Hollywood stars.

Built on top of the original site of Phoenix’s first elementary school, several spirits of young boys have often been seen inside the hotel. However, it’s most famous ghost is that of a woman named Leone Jensen who killed herself in 1928 by jumping off the roof of the seven-story hotel. Most often spied as a white, misty figure, eerie moaning sounds often accompany her spirit. Other reports include the sounds of children running through the halls and playing in empty rooms.

Santa Rita Hotel (Tucson, Arizona)

Tucson’s most elegant hotel when it opened in 1904, it has been fully refurbished today continuing to cater to Tucson visitors. A number of spirits are said to continue to call the old hotel home, including a Texas rancher who killed his cheating wife before hanging himself. Said to sometimes appear in room 822 where he killed himself, the unearthly rancher also likes to play with the lights. Another spirit who is sometimes seen, is that of a young boy who slipped while running around the pool and drowned here in the Santa Rita Hotel. Allegedly, this boy spirit is searching for his mother. People have heard him call out the word MOM around the swimming pool area.

The Earps and the Clantons and the McLaurys were powerful factions in Tombstone and their famous gunfight was not the first conflict they had with each other. The cowboys had many run-ins with the law which brought them into conflict with the Earps on a regular basis. They also interfered with the Earps’ political ambitions, including Wyatt Earps attempt to set up a successful campaign for sheriff. Even without their political conflicts, however, conflict between the two groups seemed almost inevitable. The Clantons and the McLaurys represented lawlessness while the Earps represented the law.

Tombstone had a city ordinance at the time preventing anyone from carrying firearms. The Cowboys’ unwillingness to abide by this ordinance proved a source of much conflict between the two groups. It was why the Earps pistol whipped a drunken Ike Clanton on the 26th of October. This event was largely responsible for the famous gunfight. It made the Cowboy faction resent the Earps even further and made the Earps more determined than ever to disarm any Cowboys in the city. Thus, they marched over to where the Clantons and the McLaurys had congregated behind the OK Corral and demanded that they disarm. They did not, and a gunfight ensued.

On the one side, Virgil Earp acted as city marshall and deputy US marshall for the area. He was assisted by his deputy Morgan Earp, Wyatt Earp who was acting as special deputy marshall, and Doc Holiday who had come back into town because of the looming threat of an open conflict between the two factions. Holiday was armed with a shotgun and pistol while the other men carried only pistols. They met Billy Clanton, Frank McLaury, Tom McLaury, Ike Clanton, and Billy Claiborne. Billy Clanton responded to Virgil’s demands that he disarm by shooting at Virgil. In the ensuing gunfight, Billy Clanton, Frank McLaury, and Tom McLaury were mortally wounded. Billy Claiborne and Ike Clanton survived after running away (since they were unarmed). Virgil Earp, Morgan, Earp and Doc Holiday also received minor wounds. In all, about 30 shots were fired in about 30 seconds.

After the gunfight, Wyatt Earp and Holiday were arrested and charged with murder since they had acted without being official deputies. They were eventually acquitted, however. The fight weakened the Cowboy position in Tombstone, but it was not the end of their resistance to the Earps. They orchestrated an attempted assassination on Virgil and succeeded in killing Morgan. In response Holiday and Wyatt tracked down and murdered those they believed were responsible before fleeing Arizona for good.