The Literal Ghost Town

One night, I was washing dishes in the back. The music was off, but then I heard it playing from out here...

I had a great weekend, Traveler. Though it didn't start that way by any means. My flight out of Philadelphia was delayed for an hour. I was okay with this, as it seems the airline had switched planes. I would rather fly on a plane with working engines and flaps than one that can't even take off from the runway, let alone fly to another runway.

After calling my hotel and notifying them of my late arrival (I have a friend who works in the hospitality business, and fyi, always inform the hotel if you'll be arriving late, Traveler), I set about trekking to the airport, checking in, and awaiting boarding. Boarding went well until another passenger threatened a flight attendant while we taxied to the runway for takeoff. Of course, we had to taxi back to the gate, and the passenger was escorted off the plane by the police. However, this now meant that a new flight plan had to be filed, and we had to go through the safety instructions again.

That is a bad way to start what is essentially a working vacation, Traveler. But it all changed the next morning when I unlocked the 2019 Toyota Prius that served as my rental car as well as my mobile motel for the weekend. I got back on the road after my complimentary waffle bar breakfast. I was off to Alabama for the Deep South Para-Comi-Con, where I was a vendor and speaker. On the way from Atlanta to Ozark, Alabama, I found the one reportedly haunted restaurant in Alabama that was open for business, and it just so happened it was on the way to my destination. I had an appointment in Union Springs, Alabama.

The Town

Union Spring was resettled in the 1830s after the Muscogee Removal, according to Wikipedia. Of note, Union Springs hosts annual field trials for hunting dogs and takes pride in this, with statues and murals all over the town. I'm a fan of murals, which you might know if you've met me during my days as a tour guide. My two favorites from this town were of Hank Williams, who played the opening of a hardware store in town, according to the plaque that accompanied the mural. I also learned on the spot that Eddie Kendricks of the Temptations was from Union Springs. While taking photos, someone emerged from my destination, funny enough.

Are you taking it all in?

"Trying to," I said with a smile on my face.

Welcome to Union Springs, he told me with sincerity as I looked on at the Josephine Art Center.

The Old Hotel

I was greeted by three lovely ladies once I wandered into the building. The hotel remains essentially unchanged from its last days as a hotel, but now it serves a different purpose. The first floor is a museum dedicated to the hotel, an art studio/gallery for local artists, and a small deli, coffeehouse, and ice cream parlor where you can sit and enjoy a bite to eat, but only on Fridays between 11am and 3pm. The strange hours added to the charm and gave the old place a feeling of exclusivity.

I know all of this because I was given the grand tour of the first floor upon entry. Sadly, the second and third floors are now off limits due to the actions of ungrateful ghost hunters who messed with things on the upper levels, but I won't get into that. It isn't my story to tell, Traveler; however, I must use this moment to preach about gratitude and general manners when visiting an old property.

I ordered a BLT combo for lunch and learned quite a bit about the people who used to stop through the town to ghost hunt and the ongoing ghost tours that continue in Union Springs, including the old Pauly Jail down the street and a nearby Civil War cemetery.

Often, when I'm on the road, I find myself saying, "Turn off my Philadelphia," as I like to put it, to remind myself to leave my usual habits behind. This means I need to let my guard down and turn off my personality shields to be a better and more hospitable person to those who are kind and gracious to me. I keep to myself as much as possible because it's easier. Still, I miss out on opportunities when I can't open myself up to those around me.

Well, as the friendly stranger outside had suggested to me, today I took it all in.

I was treated like family by these folks. I was given not only a lead to two other haunted properties, but they also phoned ahead to the nearby police precinct, so I could get an interview regarding Pauly Jail without even asking for one!

The Grub

My BLT (I'll always be a southern boy at heart) was delicious, made on a press with, I believe, sourdough bread. My lettuce and tomatoes were both fresh. I was given a choice of a chip and a drink. Of course, I went with a Diet Coke and Doritos.

Ice cream was an option, but I had to be on my way soon enough. I really wanted to try one of the delicious coffees they had on the menu, but I was driving three hours on four hours of sleep after a bad flight. I didn't really have the time to stop and deal with any physical consequences outside of Ozark.

But, Is It Haunted?

I learned a few things during my brief luncheon at the luncheonette inside the old hotel.

They used to have ghost hunts, but an unnamed team messed up the original furniture upstairs, and now that section is closed off to guests for the time being.

There's an active ghost tour in town that stops by the Josephine hotel, a Civil War cemetery that's supposed to be quite active, and the Pauly Jail.

I also learned these ladies have stories about the hotel.

I was washing dishes back there one night, by myself, I was told. At least, this is my attempt at paraphrasing. You hear that music?

She pointed to a speaker in the ceiling that was playing soft adult contemporary music above me.

Yes, I do, ma'am.

Well, she began. One night, I was washing dishes in the back. The music was off, but then I heard it playing from out here...

While the dowsing rods can't confirm this story, they did cross when I brought them out. Take that for what it's worth, Traveler. But now there's a photo of me hanging in the Josephine Hotel on my little adventure. Truly, I am grateful for that.

On my way out of town, I did have a look at the old Pauly Jail and stepped inside. There was a door to a side room open, and I was greeted uneasily by a single chair, facing outward at me, as if I were interrogating no one.

Ultimately, I can't recommend this strange and beautiful town enough to you. But as is the case now, I had to be on my way.

---

THE EXIT 13

This Spooky Traveler’s column focuses on haunted locations around the New England area. Victor S. Johnson is an adventurer, tour guide, and published author. His dedicated hobby is traveling through the United States (and soon after, the world), checking out old, reported hauntings and sharing his findings with his audience over on his YouTube channel, Destination Spooky.