Policemen Fear Ghosts in the Delray Station

Detroit Free Press, March 1, 1909

POLICEMEN FEAR GHOSTS IN THE DELRAY STATION

No Explanation Can Be Given For Strange Marks On the Walls.

No well regulated policeman believes in ghosts, but some at the Delray police station on West Jefferson avenue believe their quarters are haunted. This does not seem possible, but there is no other explanation.

That station is located in a cottage marshal of old Delray. The station is papered like a private residence, and the police furnishings look incongruous. But it's the paper that brings the mind to think of ghosts.

Strange hieroglyphics have appeared from day to day until the red-figured paper has been entirely covered. To be exact, it looks as if muskrats had amused themselves rubbing their greasy fur against it. No one about the station can explain the marks.

Ghost Story #15: A P.O.'ed Ghost at the Post Office

Detroit Free Press, February 5, 1924 (enlarge)

GHOST HAUNTS P.O. BASEMENT; FORCE SHIVERS 

Shade of Janitor Appears Before Colored Chore Lady in Dead of Night

Restless Spirit Even 'Phones Employee Telling Him His Time Is Near.

A federal ghost in white, the color to which apparitions are so partial, and with the leering timbre to his voice without which any revenant lays himself open to suspicion as being a sort of proletarian phantom, has taken up his home in the basement of the postoffice.

There among the empty sacks and other heterogenous stuff stored in the cellar he moans his mail-bag blues. The postoffice is half sick about it. Johnny Smith himself had a green G. O. P. pallor yesterday, and everybody walked warily.

Some weeks ago there was a similar scare, when a terrible crunching sound was heard that fairly rocked the foundations of the federal building. This was satisfactorily explained, however, after some hunt, searchers came upon one of the night forces eating celery in an obscure corner.

Meets Dead Janitor.

The newest shock involves most of the colored federal help, which has had two frightened defections to date.

Mrs. Margaret Lee, Negress, was about her chores in the basement last Wednesday and had turned a corner when whom did come upon? You never could guess.

Directly in her path and gussied up in the latest supernatural gim-cracks was a janitor who died several months ago.

"Ha, ha!" Margaret said the ghost remarked to her in the dismal way ghosts have.

You could have knocked Mrs. Lee over with anything. If her legs had responded, she would now be in the vicinity of Beluchistan. They didn't, though. There was no feeling in them.

Reports Sick.

She reported sick abed the next day.

The nerve-racking story was told to Ben Horn, of the internal revenue department. He ridiculed it in his callous manner, but he took conference with John Day, Negro, in the same department.

"You'd better stay down there tonight and see what this is all about," he suggested.

"Me?' said John. "I wouldn't be any help to any one. The minute I saw the ghost I wouldn't be there any more."

So Horn recommended to another colored employee that "we had better stay down there tonight."

"Where do you get that 'we', Mister Horn. I got no interest in that cellar."

Spreads Below Decks.

Fear spread below decks and each morning fresh stories of eerie visitations floated up.

The former janitor had been a thrifty official, ever going about the building turning off some light a wasteful employe had left burning or a water tap left running.

"Ah saw him reach up and turn off the light." said a male assistant of the specter.

Then came the strangest happening. A colored worker answered the telephone Saturday. A great facial change occurred. When he turned away from the phone he was black no longer, it is said, but a greenish white.

"What on earth is the matter?" some one asked.

"It was Mister Ed," he quaked, "and he said, 'Ah know where you are going to be soon.' " Monday he reported sick abed.

Smith Worried.

Tuesday Postmaster Smith sat at his desk with drawn face. He pretended to be undisturbed, but his sang froid was transparent. He was wondering--if the Clyde Kelly congressional bill providing higher salaries for postoffice employes would pass.

"Ghosts is apple sauce," said his secretary. He'd better stay out of the basement.

Ghost Story #14: The Bone-Cracking Haints of Elmwood Cemetery

Detroit Free Press, December 21, 1924

BREAKS A LEG BUT DOESN'T BLAME GHOSTS

Oliver Victor Can't Explain Injury Received While Passing Graveyard.

Victor Oliver swore he did not have a drink Saturday. And he was just as emphatic that he was not suffering from a previous day's "hangover." He's not a bit afraid of ghosts either, but he's sure he saw eerie apparitions as he sauntered past Elmwood cemetery shortly after midnight Friday, and they were so realistic that they must have broken his leg. He admits he got rather panicky, and he's not quite clear as to what did happen after he first came upon the ghostly shapes, but anyhow, he's in receiving hospital with a badly broken left limb.

Victor, who gave his age as 50, and says he lives on Michigan avenue near Fourth street, told hospital authorities he was on his way home from a visit to friends. As he was passing the cemetery two shapes, one a man and the other a woman, approached him rapidly. From then on, Victor is not quite clear as to what happened. He thinks he may have started to run, and he admits he became a bit hysterical. The next thing he remembered is when he came to in a drug store and someone was giving him a glass of water.

When the ambulance brought him to the hospital, Victor was still trembling from fright. But he still insists he is not afraid of ghosts.

"It took something more than mere ghosts to break my leg," he told attendants.

This haunting is reminiscent of the Peter Erb attack which an 8-foot-tall spectre knocked him cold. The incidents occurred only a few miles apart though 50 years in between.

Fear of Spooks Leads Little Girl To Death

Detroit Free Press, February 10, 1923

This story is far more tragic than weird but the circumstances that lead to little Jennie Wieczarza death were as common as they were strange. Little children are afraid of the dark and the spirits which inhabit it. I would do a proper write-up but with only this article it would be a mere re-hashing of a story that I found while once again digging for Detroit's yesteryear spooks and wouldn't do it the justice of the original piece.

Fear of Spooks Leads Little Girl To Death

6-Year-Old Jennie Dies After Candle Sets Her Nightgown on Fire.

Jennie Wieczarza, 6 years old, is dead. No more will her little heart flutter in fear of "spooks." Jennie died last night at Highland Park General hospital of burns suffered at midnight Wednesday, when she sought her parents, with a lighted candle, to spread the alarm that a hobgoblin or something was abroad in the house at 13440 Riopelle street.

Jennie slept alone and often she heard queer sounds. She had imagination too--heaps of it--and in daytime it was fairies that danced through her busy mind. When the shadows fell those creepy shadows and sounds rose to terrify her. Perhaps it was only the wintery winds moaning in the crannies of the house, or a flapping window shade. Sometimes Jennies would awaken in the middle of the night with a piercing scream and her mother rushed to her bedside to comfort her.

She was sure that an evil spirit roamed the house Wednesday night. Jennie didn't scream this time, but crept quietly out of her bed, got a candle, lighted it and started for the room where her parents slumbered. Before she got to the door she was trembling and the hand that held the candle ignited her nightgown. Flames enveloped her body. She screamed and her parents ran in, discovering her rolling on the floor. They put out the fire, but not until Jennie had suffered painful second degree burns.

She lay on a cot of pain throughout Thursday and Friday. Finally at a late hour last night the pain ceased, a peaceful calm settled over the child's features and a nurse drew the sheet over her curly head. Jennie had gone, and left the spooks behind.

First Fiesta Planned by Detroit Magicians

Detroit Free Press, September 24, 1937

Spooks will walk in Lola Park on Fenkell Ave., west of Telegraph Road, Sunday afternoon--rabbits will pop out of hats and who knows?--maybe even the ancient Indian rope trick will be performed.

And there will be hot-dogs (the foot-long kind), roastin' ears and coffee.

It will be the occasion of the First Fiesta and Corn Roast of the Society of Detroit Magicians. An outdoor magic contest for members and guests, with prizes for the best, has been arranged by Dr. John Buell, Al Munroe and George A. Pillsbury.