A Ghostly Encounter on Rt 66

 


 

 
Kingman was still dark that morning, when I rolled over and glimpsed at the clock. Then came the knock on the hotel room door, followed by a voice that said, "Get up George, we have to go back and shoot the sunrise at the graveyard in Goldroad". It was my friend and co-producer Dave Johnson, and the tone of Dave’s voice told me that breakfast could wait - we had an adventure to go on.
You might remember Dave’s uncle Barry Goldwater, as the "Next President of the United States" in 1964, but what you might not know is that Barry was quite a gifted photographer, making many contributions to Arizona Highways. With Uncle Barry in mind, Dave and I had left Prescott the day before, to photo-document the Arizona Doors of Route 66.
We had begun collecting doors in Ash Fork and then shot the Snow Cap Drive-In and Delgadillo Barbershop in Seligman. From there we went west on old Route 66 and enjoyed the nostalgic Burma Shave signs along the way, as we drove by such wide spots as Truxton, Valentine, Peach Springs and Hackberry. We shot them all and passed through the remains of Goldroad on the way to Oatman, to photograph the door of the Oatman Hotel where Clark Gable and Carole Lombard spent their honeymoon. We had come back to Kingman to spend the night when Dave made the wake-up call.
 
We hadn’t found much of anything left of Goldroad the day before, so I figured that Dave must have found his topographical map that shows all the abandoned cemetery sites or "graveyards". Being from Jerome, my interest in Goldroad is because our most famous Madam, Jennie Bauters, was brutally murdered there in 1906. I was particularly curious about the graveyard, because I had heard strange stories from several different sources about, Jennie’s grave being in Kingman. Dave and I had speculated about why poor Jennie hadn’t been quickly laid to rest in Goldroad, rather than having her corpse taken by wagon all the way to Kingman. That must have been a trip of a couple of days back then, and who got stuck with that job? Jennie had lots of money, but even so, given her profession, would she have been allowed to be buried in a respectable cemetery, so far away in Kingman?
The strange stories I had heard claimed that not only Jennie, but also her murderer, who was executed, were both buried in Kingman, and this is where the plot thickens (pun intended). You see, the Kingman High School needed a new football field a few years ago, and seeing as how the cemetery was right next door, they decided to move the dearly beloved to a new cemetery to make way for progress. The officials contacted all the relatives, or so the story goes, but the not-so-dearly beloved ones, whose descendants would not come forward, were not moved, but rather left behind to become part of Arizona high school football history.
You guessed it, that would include Jennie and her murderer.
One version of the story says that the football team was practicing for the annual rivalry game one day, when low and behold, they found some bones that had worked their way to the surface of the field. Might have been cow bones planted by a conniving coach, to shake up the opposition, but somehow, supposedly the Daughters of the American Revolution got involved, and now the remains of Jennie and her murderer are interred in the same crypt in the end zone. What a macabre ending to a sad tale, but never let the truth get in the way of a good story, is what I always say. Still, if there was anything left of the graveyard in Goldroad, and if Jennie might have been buried there, I wanted to find out.
 
The sky was beginning to show some light as the Jeep crept along the original twisty Route 66, while we looked for the turnoff that Dave thought would take us back behind what few ruins of Goldroad can be seen from the paved road. After a couple of false starts, we found a trail that at least headed in the right direction. I was getting hungry and about ready to call off the hunt, when we came upon what looked like a Reenactor from Oatman, dressed up like a prospector, and covered with dust. Having been involved with living history shows for years, I knew exactly what to expect. These folks really get into their parts and take it as a challenge not to slip out of character. Using period language, they’ll talk about President Lincoln like he’s still alive, and that sort of stuff. So, we stopped to ask directions before we lost any chance of a sunrise shot.
"Howdy Old-timer," I ventured, "where’s your burro? In Oatman?"
I figured that would open the door to the reenactor spiel, and he would start talking about the gunfights in the street next, but he ignored the Oatman reference and asked us our names. We told him, and ask him who he was.
"Baldy Baldwin", he said, "but my friends call me Lloyd".
"Well, Lloyd", I replied, "do you know if there’s an old graveyard around here?" Instead of answering, he demanded, "Where are you boys from?"
I could have said Prescott or Jerome, but said, "Jerome", as a lead-in to asking about Jennie.
As soon as I mentioned Jerome, Lloyd frowned, "If you’re lookin’ for Jennie, she ain‘t here. Took her to Kingman myself, to be buried." There was a convincing note of sadness in his voice, and Dave and I looked at each other as friends do when a situation takes a strange turn.
"No one came to help her", he said, "and that son-of-a bitch went and reloaded and shot her again, then tried to kill himself. I guess she’d seen him comin’ from across the street and tried to lock the door, but didn’t get it done."
Dave and I didn’t know what to make of all that. We hadn’t expected to meet anyone who knew much about Jennie Bauters, unless they were scriptwriters for the Kingman football team.
Lloyd continued, "Ya know Jennie was a good hearted woman, look at all she done for your town when she was up there. Too bad she met up with that hop head Martin and took him in. Things shouldn’t end up that-a-way".
I wanted to ask about Lloyd’s trip to Kingman with Jennie’s corpse, but before I could, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the skeleton key to a door. "Shouldn’t have to lock your house out here either, but Jennie had a lock put on her front door soon as that Martin fellow started threatenin’ her. This fell out of her hand when I was takin’ her to Kingman and I’ve kept it ever since. You know, sometimes it seems to move on it’s own, like she’s still tryin’ to lock that door".
Just then a motorcycle going way too fast, roared by on the road behind us, and when Dave and I turned back from looking in that direction, Lloyd had begun to walk off. Not knowing what to say, but not wanting the encounter to end, I yelled at him, "Hey you, Old man, how should things end up?" He stopped, and slowly turned toward us, then in a ghostly whisper said, "You know, you don’t have to be dead to be buried". With that he threw Jennie’s key in our direction, and the rising sun flashed off it like the pop of a light bulb blowing out. Lloyd was gone.
 
We looked for the key of course, but to no avail, and headed back to Kingman for breakfast. It was a quiet ride to Ash Fork to pick up our photo-essay going east. Williams, Flagstaff, "The Corner" in Winslow and the teepee’s at the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook. No, we didn’t forget Winona, as in the Route 66 song, or Baldy "my friends call me Lloyd" Baldwin. What was that all about anyway?
When we got back to Prescott two days later, we tidied up the Jeep, and guess what we found? Tucked in a corner partly hidden under the floor mat, was the skeleton key to a house door. Could it be? Prankster that he is, did Dave plant it like the Kingman football coaches?
Now if you’re in Jerome this Halloween, you just might see me dressed like the ghost of Claude Harvey, the victim of the killer elevator at the Grand Hotel, which is the role I play in our "Spirits of Jerome – Ghost City Hauntings" DVD. If you do, and I am holding a skeleton key, and asking people if they see it move on it’s own, you’ll want to remember, "Never let the truth get in the way of a good Ghost Story."

 

"Professor" Hall lives in Jerome and produces DVD’s with Louise Giusto, They have founded Rutherford House Publishing, and are working on more Doors of Arizona and New Mexico posters. The Professor is also the World’s leading expert on the Zoetrope – the optical toy that was the beginning of movies in the 19th Century. There is more info on his web site
 

www.silentmovies.com

A Ghostly Encounter on Rt 66 - pt 2

 
The sky was beginning to show some light as the Jeep crept along the original twisty Route 66, while we looked for the turnoff that Dave thought would take us back behind what few ruins of Goldroad can be seen from the paved road. After a couple of false starts, we found a trail that at least headed in the right direction. I was getting hungry and about ready to call off the hunt, when we came upon what looked like a Reenactor from Oatman, dressed up like a prospector, and covered with dust. Having been involved with living history shows for years, I knew exactly what to expect. These folks really get into their parts and take it as a challenge not to slip out of character. Using period language, they’ll talk about President Lincoln like he’s still alive, and that sort of stuff. So, we stopped to ask directions before we lost any chance of a sunrise shot.
"Howdy Old-timer," I ventured, "where’s your burro? In Oatman?"
I figured that would open the door to the reenactor spiel, and he would start talking about the gunfights in the street next, but he ignored the Oatman reference and asked us our names. We told him, and ask him who he was.
"Baldy Baldwin", he said, "but my friends call me Lloyd".
"Well, Lloyd", I replied, "do you know if there’s an old graveyard around here?" Instead of answering, he demanded, "Where are you boys from?"
I could have said Prescott or Jerome, but said, "Jerome", as a lead-in to asking about Jennie.
As soon as I mentioned Jerome, Lloyd frowned, "If you’re lookin’ for Jennie, she ain‘t here. Took her to Kingman myself, to be buried." There was a convincing note of sadness in his voice, and Dave and I looked at each other as friends do when a situation takes a strange turn.
"No one came to help her", he said, "and that son-of-a bitch went and reloaded and shot her again, then tried to kill himself. I guess she’d seen him comin’ from across the street and tried to lock the door, but didn’t get it done."
Dave and I didn’t know what to make of all that. We hadn’t expected to meet anyone who knew much about Jennie Bauters, unless they were scriptwriters for the Kingman football team.
Lloyd continued, "Ya know Jennie was a good hearted woman, look at all she done for your town when she was up there. Too bad she met up with that hop head Martin and took him in. Things shouldn’t end up that-a-way".
I wanted to ask about Lloyd’s trip to Kingman with Jennie’s corpse, but before I could, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the skeleton key to a door. "Shouldn’t have to lock your house out here either, but Jennie had a lock put on her front door soon as that Martin fellow started threatenin’ her. This fell out of her hand when I was takin’ her to Kingman and I’ve kept it ever since. You know, sometimes it seems to move on it’s own, like she’s still tryin’ to lock that door".
Just then a motorcycle going way too fast, roared by on the road behind us, and when Dave and I turned back from looking in that direction, Lloyd had begun to walk off. Not knowing what to say, but not wanting the encounter to end, I yelled at him, "Hey you, Old man, how should things end up?" He stopped, and slowly turned toward us, then in a ghostly whisper said, "You know, you don’t have to be dead to be buried". With that he threw Jennie’s key in our direction, and the rising sun flashed off it like the pop of a light bulb blowing out. Lloyd was gone.
 
To be continued ...
 

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