Lost Souls of Treasure Island

Four years ago, on a visit to Galveston, I encountered an unfriendly entity - a spirit or energy, dark and malevolent. In my futile search to discover who or what I met in that antique store hallway, I met this week's guest blogger, Jan Johnson.

Jan is new to the Tiki Hut. She's not a blogger, but she is a writer, with two books about Galveston and some of its ghosts. Please give her a warm Tiki welcome ♥

The title of Jan's post is the same as my blog post title (I shamelessly stole it) - "Lost Souls of Treasure Island." She used Treasure Island because back in the early 1900s, Galveston officials used the term in advertising promotions, and it stuck around long enough to make an impression.

"Lost Souls of Treasure Island"

Galveston, that grand old city that wouldn't die, is home to many restless little spirits, trapped in a world between life and death.   Those who died violent sudden deaths, especially during 1900 Storm, still roam certain structures on the Island, not realizing they are dead.   These active souls interact with the living, making their presence known to a chosen few. 

One such haunting happens at the corner of 22nd and The Strand in the Mensing Building.   Build for brothers Gustave and William in 1882, this full half block, two-story building housed a grocer and a cotton factoring firm.   But immediately after the Great Storm, it served as a morgue. 

In an oral history for the Rosenberg Library, Hyman Block remembered that his brother “was made a deputy Marshal and given a bottle of whiskey” to guard the bodies stacked on the floor.  The vicious wind and water of the storm had ripped off most of the corpses' clothing, so they were modestly covered in cloth.  Legend had it that some of these shrouded bodies fell between the walls of the building.   When it was restored in the 1980's, retail shops filled the street level and loft apartments above.

During Mardi Gras 2000, Holly and Dan lived in a second story loft on the alley.  A loud crash beneath their sleeping quarters rudely awakened them in the middle of the night.  A quick glance around revealed nothing so, after securing their apartment, they went back to bed.  The next morning, they discovered a solid brass toy cannon, weighing at least 3 pounds, lying upside-down across the living room floor by the tall windows, with its wheel bent.  The night before, it had been sitting serenely on the bedroom railing 20 feet above a glass-topped coffee table.

  

A vacant spot in the dust confirmed its previous location but since nothing else had been disturbed, the couple concluded that the toy cannon had been thrown across the room with substantial force.  Since neither of them had, it must had been done by someone or someTHING else that could move through walls. 

Later that year, Dan snapped a photo from the upper loft of his wife watching TV below.   When the film was developed, a large transparent, whitish cocoon materialized, hovering over her shoulder. 

“The three-dimensional image appeared to be as large as a human body wrapped in something textured like cloth,” he observed.  “Even the folds were visible.  The flash I used was reflected in the glass of a framed picture, but nothing in the room was a triangular shape, so it could not have been a reflection."   Yet, there it was . . .

Carriage drivers living in a former bordello at 26th and Postoffice swear that one of its previous clients was still in residence, showing a photo as proof.  A transparent outline of a man smartly dressed in 19^th Century business attire stands on the staircase landing, tipping his bowler at the photographer.  

It seems as though a prominent, married insurance man in town had a habit of having "coffee with the ladies" every morning, discretely parking his car in the alley behind.  During one such visit, he dropped dead of a heart attack at the madam's "kitchen table."  Not knowing what to do, she quickly called her good friend, the chief of police, who sped over to observe the scene.  He quickly concluded that Mr. Insurance man must be moved to protect his good reputation!

Loading his body into the trunk of his car, the chief drove the deceased several blocks down the street to Kempner Park, then propped him upon a park bench to make it appear that the gentleman had expired while feeding the pigeons. However the man, not realizing that he was dead, remained at the bordello, searching for his car and keys!

Many restless spirits choose to stay on earth eternally to protect someone, something or someplace.  These mostly benevolent spirits remain until they are satisfied that their protection is no longer needed, freeing them to “cross over” to their next level of existence.   

The current owner of a home in the Silk Stocking District reported such a presence.  When he bought the house in 1984, he used it as his weekend get-away, throwing parties there.  He and many of his guests saw not one but two distinct friendly spirits – a short older man with dark blue baggy pants and oversized short-sleeved white shirt in the dining room who was deaf and a tall, deaf and dumb woman in an upstairs bedroom.  

Curious about these lost souls, he canvassed the neighbors.  An older lady across the street remembered her parents telling her that the lady who had lived in his house did indeed take in 2 such characters whose families had perished during the 1900 Storm.   Eventually, he reported, that the two spirits departed one Sunday morning, each leaving a gift of gratitude – he, a checkerboard and she, a small Singer sewing machine.  Apparently, they felt that the house was in good hands, freeing them to "cross over."

His is but one of the ghost stories from the active Silk Stocking District which has many lost souls coming literally out of the walls (pun intended) . . . . but that is another story! 

Fifth generation BOI (aka Born on the Island), Jan Johnson has been seriously studying the rich history of Galveston as a part-time step-on Tour Guide since 1982 and direct descendants of two 1900 Storm survivors. She earned A BS in Elementary Ed at the University of Houston, Clear Lake in 1986; then a MA in Literature in 1995 with the specific goal to write.  Her first book, Walking Historic Galveston:  A Guide to its Neighborhoods, is the city's first practical, comprehensive guide to its 9 historic districts.  Completed a full year before Hurricane Ike, it appeared on bookshelves in April, 2009.  Her second book, Beyond the Beaten Paths:  Driving Historic Galveston, was published late 2012 and begins where the first left off.  From one end of the Island to the other (almost), reading wanderers will encounter infamous characters wo pepper the Island's past, set among many vintage images.

JAN JOHNSON, MA
"Galveston Island Gal"
Writer/Tour Guide/Teacher
www.GalvestonIslandGal.com

Walking Historic Galveston: A Guide to its Neighborhoods is the city's first practical, comprehensive walking guide of the Islands most concentrated historic areas with interesting anecdotes about the people of their past. Written in a very readable voice, the book is designed for the Everyman who wanders the city streets and wonders about the inside human stories of those who lived, loved, and worked in the unusual buildings that survived them.

Jan Johnson's second guide book begins where the first left off, with an ambitious goal of including all that was left out of the first in touring Galveston, Texas. Readers will travel the Island's streets from the port to the gulf, meandering in and out of the East End before walking two areas: one of the downtown "Arts and Entertainment" Post Office District and the Broadway Cemetery. Driving west to the airport through middle-class neighborhoods, the driving guide will lead you "Down the Island" to Jamaica Beach, then return you via a circuitous route to the very eastern tip of the Seawall. Along the way, happy wanderers will encounter the usual colorful and somewhat infamous characters who pepper the Island's past set among many vintage images.