An old friend of the Hotel.
Not seeking to ghost hunt, my father, Nick, resided there for years when I was a kid.
Many realizations being an adult, such as wondering “why did that door close?”
Walking up the stairs to a very familiar feeling of not walking towards the window at the end of the hall. Things are seen, and heard in the halls.
The basement.. well at the time the band was playing all the time, when the music stopped and the sun was up my heart felt pain and I wanted to rejoice with what ever was there.. not hurt or threatened by my acknowledgment. Something is still hiding in the shadows, of the dungeon floor.
My dad and I use to sleep in the room that you’d walk in through the front door- the living area- the kitchen- then there were stairs to the right or another room which is where we stayed.
My dad loved this place.. loved big river.. never knew such a past could live in the walls.