The Sad Tale of the Hollywood Sign

I’ve been asked more than once, if I believe in ghosts. Well, what is the definition of a ghost?

Per Merriam-Webster -  A disembodied soul especially: the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the unseen world or to appear to the living in bodily likeness.

Well, that wouldn’t be Casper would it? 

So, I’m not sure that I believe or disbelieve in ghosts. I’ve seen, or thought I’d seen, things that I can’t really explain. On a bet, when I was a teenager, I spent the night sleeping in a cemetery in the city of Corona. It was supposed to be haunted by a spectra by the name of Mona. I never saw an apparition, and only learned one thing from that experience. 

Teenage boys are stupid.

But, being a researcher, I do have some gadgets that are quite prevalent on those ghost hunting shows, like The New Reality, Ghost Adventures, The UnXplained, and I’m Frightened Just To Be Here (ok, I made that one up).

And those gadgets the professionals use would be: a digital voice recorder (so there is proof of you screaming hysterically when encountering a ghost), an EMF sensor (no idea, but it sounds cool), Ghost Box (in case you catch a ghost, I guess), camera with night vision (duh), an infrared thermometer, and a box of pampers (just in case you encounter a real ghost).

An activated Ghost Box with a ghost

Now that I was prepared to do some serious ghost hunting – actually ghost locating, since I’m not much into hunting – I had to find the first place.

Ah, with all the mention of television series, why not start in Hollywood? And what better place than the Hollywood Sign?

The Hollywood sign was not intended to be an advertisement for the film industry. Actually, it was an idea to advertise a housing development in the hills above the Hollywood district of Los Angeles. An area less expensive than the homes located closer to the studios.

As the brochure stated, “Hollywoodland, a superb environment without excessive cost on the Hollywood side of the hills.”

The sign went up in 1923, by home builder Harry Chandler, who contracted with the Crescent Sign Company. The original sign read, Hollywoodland, and each letter was 50 feet tall and 30 feet wide. They had to use mules to haul up the steel support beams – wow, mules. How quaint.

Chandler believed the sign would be only up for about a year and a half but after ninety-seven years, it’s still there – just missing the last four letters.

Hollywood had become a household name around the globe by the late twenties, and what better tool to use reminding all cinema fanatics of the flash and dash of movie town then a huge sign. In the early forties, the word ‘land’ was removed from the original sign.

It is by far, one of the most iconic visual advertisements of the film industry anywhere on earth, not just Los Angeles.

Millions of people view it in person, commercials, documentaries, television series, and films yearly. It is one of the most photographed places in the United States, and you can hike to it.

But is it haunted? Supposed to be, and it’s truly a sadly tragic story.

A beautiful young English actress by the name of, Millicent Lillian ‘Peg’ Entwistle, had immigrated to America to find work in New York City. At first, there were some minor roles in the theatre, but soon directors realized how talented this Peg Entwistle truly was.

The beautiful actress, Millicent Lillian 'Peg' Entwistle

In fact, a very young Bette Davis, saw Entwistle perform in the 1925 play, The Wild Duck, and told her mother, that someday she would be as good as the 17 year old Entwistle. For the rest of her life, Davis would often mention that it was watching Entwistle that made her yearn for the acting career which made her so famous.

Entwistle stayed in New York working Broadway until 1932. It was midst of the great depression and theatres were closing down due to lack of audiences. She moved to Hollywood the same year and picked up some roles in theatres here and there.

As with many actors, she was discovered by Radio Pictures (RKO) and soon had a studio contract in hand.

Her first, and sadly, only film credit was a supporting role as Hazel Cousins, in David O. Selznick’s film, Thirteen Women.

However, most of Entwistle’s parts were removed, ending up on the editing floor, and she was devastated. On top of that, the studio cancelled her contract.

At the tender age of twenty-four years – she believed her dreams were gone. And, on September 16th, 1932, Peg Entwistle decided there was nothing left to live for. She climbed the hills above Hollywoodland, climbed a ladder to the top of the ‘H’, and jumped to her death.

A sensational suicide in the tabloids

So, on this 93th anniversary of that tragic day, I decided to see if this young actress still haunted the hillside, as so many people have sworn she does. 

Ghoulish, perhaps, but if I didn’t see her ghost, the least I could do was say a prayer for a young girl who gave up too early.

Getting to the Hollywood sign isn’t that difficult. There are numerous hikes, some moderate and some not so moderate. I chose an easier route and drove through the neighborhood of Hollywoodland – yes, there actually is such a neighborhood, with modestly priced homes for the likes of Saudi princes.

I drove along a winding narrow road up into the hills behind Hollywoodland – there was sign that stated the road was only for locals. Being a native California, now a Nevadan, I believed that still made me a local.

The path leading to the Hollywood sign

After parking, I located an access route to one of the main trails, which was surprisingly crowded with people hiking up that trail. They were huffing and puffing, as well as sweating. I felt great - an air conditioned drive can do that for a person. 

The view was spectacular.

And, when I looked at the large white sign on the hillside, I felt saddened to think a young woman, was so distraught that she felt the only option left was to leap off the letter ‘H’.

I didn’t bother telling the others around me about the history of the sign. They were laughing and taking dozens of selfies and group photos with their phones. 

No reason to spoil their day with the sorrowful story of Peg Entwistle

There is still another twist to Entwistle’s death. The day after she committed suicide, a letter was delivered at her residence, with an offer for an upcoming film. She was to play a young woman driven to suicide.

Spooky! 

For further information: https://www.hollywoodsign.org/history/a-sign-is-born

                                        https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peg_Entwistle

Have a meal with George - the Ghost

 On a recent Saturday, I asked Laureen is she had any specific plans for the day.

She knew what that meant.

“A road trip?” she responded.

And, within forty minutes we were on our way to Big Bear, in the San Bernardino Mountains. It is one of our favorite haunts.

Haunts – I like that, since it is October. That spooky time of year.

 Big Bear – there is Big Bear City and Big Bear Lake, for those who haven’t travelled Highway 18 to either of those locales. Traveling this road is to witness tall glorious pine trees, a blue lake, hiking trails, off-road trails, eating and shopping in the Village, and so much more.

We love the Big Bear area.

“I love the Big Bear area,” I stated.

“I know,” Laureen responded. “Where are we going to lunch?”

I knew the right spot. A place that is internationally known as a very haunted and goose bumpily place. The Captains Anchorage.

“We haven’t been there in a dozen years,” Laureen stated.

“And the spirits are angry about that,” I said. “The tip you left last time was rather vacuous.”

Laureen ignored that.

Driving by the Mitsubishi cement plant, south of the town of Lucerne Valley on Highway 18, always reminds me of a space colony. Huge round storage buildings with conveyer belts going this way and that way has an out of this world appearance.

“Doesn’t it look like space aliens have captured humans and sent them to work in their factory?” I asked Laureen as we drove by the place.

She shook her head. “Looks like a cement factory.”

“Human, we do not enjoy your remarks – to the mines with you.” I stated.

Laureen ignored me again. 

As we swung around Baldwin Lake, we had some time to kill before the restaurant would be open, and decided to take the scenic route through Holcomb Valley. Actually, I had intended on the drive to snap a photograph of the ‘hanging tree’ in the area where the old mining town of Belleville once stood.

I wrote a column on Holcomb Valley for the Daily Press Newspaper, back in June of 2020, but I won’t go into any detail about that trip now. I don’t like repeating myself – unless it is to our children, and I can go on and on and on about the same subject for weeks.

Since Belleville, like many mining camps, could be a violent place – there had to be some place to punish those who thought killing one another was a perfectly fine way in dealing with personal disputes. 

It was the Wild West, after-all.

So, the townsfolk found a nice big and tall Juniper tree to string up the really bad hombres. Is the tree haunted? Don’t know and never asked – but with its outstretched tree limbs and prominent location in the valley, it could be.

“Almost lunch time,” I said to Laureen.

As we headed out of the valley, we came across a tree that made the hanging tree look downright tame.

There in the middle of a clearing, we were staring at an apparition that film director, Tim Burton would find alluring.

Gnarled leafless branches tweaked in such a way, it appeared as if it was alive and trying to reach and grab any unsuspecting person sauntering by. Not a stich of green on it – only the tall barren trunk hunkered down in the soil. 

The Hanging tree in Holcomb Valley

“That looks as if it’s haunted?” Laureen asked.

“I’ll come back, and pick you up in the morning – let me know about your research.”

We headed out for lunch at that time.

The Captain’s Anchorage, is located in Big Bear Lake, and has been a landmark for the city since 1947, when the owner, Andy Devine opened it. The famous actor turned restaurateur, wanted something special to entertain his Hollywood friends, and thus the restaurant and bar became the center point not only for the locals, but many other famous actors. Roy Rogers, John Wayne, Lee Marvin, Jimmy Stewart, and many more made the long drive from Los Angeles to the mountain community of Big Bear Lake to partake in the extensive menu offerings.

The original name of the place was the Sportsman’s Tavern, and remained that way until 1972, when it was renamed The Captains Anchorage by Woodrow and Charlotte Meier, who had purchased the restaurant from Devine in 1966.

It is a beautiful building full of character and grace – and it is haunted.

Besides being haunted, a great place to eat

As we entered the business, I walked over to the dark wood bar, located in the Andy Devine Room, and snapped some photographs. That’s what I do – don’t look at the menu first – just snap some shots. Perhaps there will be an orb floating somewhere in the photograph when I download it later.

“Have you come to see George?” Natalie asked from behind the bar. Natalie has worked at the Captains Anchorage a long time, and knows a bit about the history.

“George is our local ghost,” she stated. “He likes to hang around the bar, causing some mischief now and then, but doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“You’re a believer then?” I asked.

“I don’t belong to a cult, if that’s what you are asking?”

“No, not that kind of a believer,” I replied. “Have you had any interaction with George?”

Natalie nodded. “Once in a while a light will turn on when no one is here but me, or the glass washer will suddenly light up. Those kinds of things.”

Laureen was standing to the right of the bar, near the kitchen entrance, and I saw a peculiar look on her face.

The main bar at the Captains Anchorage

“You feeling something?”

“Yes, there’s something here between the bar and the fireplace,” she responded. “It’s like someone being anxious. As they are troubled by something – I really can feel the emotions.”

Laureen is so much more sensitive than me, when it comes to practically anything – except those sad mistreated dog commercials – they tear me up. A box of tissues, please.

“Did you feel anything?” she asked me.

I nodded. “Yes, I feel the bar is calling me over for a cold one.”

According to Patti Scriven, the current owner and daughter of the Meier’s, George was Andy Devine’s ‘bookkeeper’. During the time period that Devine was the owner, there was lots and lots of rumors of illegal gambling going on at the Sportsman’s Tavern. In fact, upstairs are small booths which are original to the design of the restaurant, that look like the perfect size for a slot machine placement. Poker games, roulette, and possibly betting on horse races, may have taken place in the establishment.

John R Beyer and Patti Scriven in the Captains Anchorage

Was George just a bookkeeper or perhaps a bookie also?

“Rumor has it that George may have been embezzling profits from the illegal gambling,” stated Patti. “He may had been afraid of getting caught and committed suicide at his house, not far from here."

“Then why would he haunt this place?” Laureen asked.

“We have had numerous of those paranormal investigators out here, and they all say the same thing, he was the most happy here at the restaurant,” Patti replied.

“It is a very nice place to haunt,” I stated. 

Some research I conducted, showed George may have also been killed by some angry gamblers or those who caught him skimming money off the top of the receipts.

Either suicide or murder makes for a possible haunting.

Once an illegal gambling booth now a nice place to sit and eat

It seems as though George does truly like haunting the restaurant, its patrons and staff. He, according to Patti, has never caused any harm to anyone personally.

“There’s been some liquor bottles shattering behind the bar when no one was present, some tromping of heavy footsteps up and down the stairs, blowing out some candles, and the like. Pretty harmless – more like pranks.”

Shattering an expensive bottle of spirits is not a prank. That would be a felony in any ghostly realm.

“Listen, Mr. Ghost man – I don’t care if it was a prank – that was an expensive bottle of Dalmore sixty-two, there you decided to shatter. Who is going to pay for it?”

Patti entertained us with more tales of the mischievous George, but stated she had never had a true other-worldly experience with the ghost from the Captains Anchorage.

“I wish Rita were here,” Patti stated. “She really has had some recent experiences with George.”

“Please, go on,” I asked.

“Well, recently Rita was near the kitchen when she suddenly saw a dark shadow sweep right beside Hugo, our chef, who was busy cooking. She was scared to death and screamed. When I asked Hugo if he saw or felt anything, he replied just before Rita screamed, he had felt a presence swoosh by him, almost touching him. But, there was nothing there when he glanced around.”

One of the kitchens at the Captains Anchorage

“Yes, Rita won’t even go upstairs to get a bottle of wine,” Patti said. “I tease her that a customer wants a certain vintage and will she go up and get it, she just tells me no.”

“I don’t blame her,” Laureen stated.

“Neither do I,” Pattie stated. “I just like to tease her that way.”

Is the Captains Anchorage haunted? I don’t know, but I do know they have great food and a greater tale for their customers.

For further information: https://captainsanchorage.com/

A Haunting we will go in Two Guns, Arizona

It is that time of year that brings communities together. To laugh, to share, and to just find the joy in being alive.

It is October – and that can only mean one thing – Halloween.

Ghosts, goblins, witches, and cryptids do their best to scare us to an unpleasant place.

It is the month to mutilate the pumpkin and paint the cat black.

One of my favorite seasons.

As Laureen and I were driving west along Route 66, after visiting Winslow, Arizona – we decided to stop by a place that is so haunted, so scary, so unnaturally spooky that most humans would not dare to tread there.

Laureen Beyer standing on a street corner in Winslow, Arizona

Not being like most humans, we knew it was an experience we just had to visit on our very own.

Laureen is not that fancy on these spectral sorts of sites but since I was driving . . .

After pulling south off Route 66 by the ruins of the town of Two Guns, I was busy scanning my hand-held GPS looking for the scariest area near Two Guns.

“I don’t think this thing is working,” I told Laureen. “If I’m holding it correctly, we’re somewhere between Vienna and Salzburg.”

No reply from Laureen.

Suddenly I heard her from about 50 feet away. “It’s right here, I can feel it.”

The reason Laureen does not like to travel to many supposedly haunted places is due to the fact she actually ‘feels’ something. A sense or foreboding of what may have occurred in the past at such a place.

Me, I usually feel hungry or thirsty. 

As in earlier articles concerning ‘haunted places’ I tend to be a bit of a skeptic. Don’t really think folks from the afterlife are lingering around waiting for me to invade their space.

“Hey, you are now in my personal ghost space. So rude of you that I will throw this antique rocking chair at your head.”

Of course, I do have to admit I have heard or seen things that I can not explain while traveling here and there.

I once saw a boy scout escort an elderly woman across the street in Houston, and I thought that only happened in Hallmark films.

“What is right here that you can feel it?” I asked Laureen, finally giving up on the hand-held GPS which had me now somewhere east of Moscow.

“The cave, it’s right here,” she replied.

The Apache Death Cave in Two Guns, Arizona

The cave, Laureen was mentioning, was the famed Apache Death Cave located about 12 miles west of Meteor Crater in Arizona along Route 66.

The legend is terrifically sad.

In the late 19th century, the two dominate native tribes residing in the area were the Apache and the Navajo. These two groups did not get a long well together and often raided and killed each other over territory or perhaps because they did not like each other.

But in 1878 it is rumored that some Apaches entered two Navajo camps and killed everyone except three young girls whom they kidnapped.

Other Navajo warriors hearing of this diabolical action started to chase the Apache to seek their revenge and get the girls back.

The Navajo were closing the gap of the fleeing Apache but suddenly lost sight of them near the edge of the Canyon Diablo, a long arroyo that meanders through the territory.

Getting off their horses, the Navajo looked high and low and low and high but could not locate the Apache.

Just then, as the story goes, one of the Navajo thought he heard voices coming from somewhere below him and then found a deep cave carved into the Kaibab Limestone.

Sure enough, the Apache had ridden into the large cave with their horses and captives hoping to trick the tracking Navajo.

The ruse did not work.

Grabbing a lot of sagebrush, the Navajo decided to smoke the Apache out of the cave by lighting the bushes on fire.

Moments later, a few Apache ran from the cave but were immediately killed by the waiting Navajo.

It only took a few minutes to realize the captives had been murdered by the Apache, so the rest of the Navajo posse decided to finish the job and continued to throw large amounts of burning sagebrush into the mouth of the cave.

There was no chance for escape for any of the Apache trapped within the walls of the cave. 42 Apache succumbed to the smoke and fire.

Perhaps a memorial for the Apache who tragically died here

I wandered over to where Laureen was standing by a small rock border, and she pointed downward. Sure enough, there was a cave which seemed as though the walls may have been smoke damaged sometime in the past.

“The hairs are standing up on head,” she stated.

Looking at her perfectly quaffed hair, I did not know what to say. So, I said nothing.

An old wooden ladder type of bridge ran across the width of the cave allowing the visitor a chance to get closer into the cave.

The ladder was not truly stable looking

“You first,” I said.

“Me never,” Laureen replied.

After a few tense moments of rock scrambling and teetering on the wooden bridge, I found myself at the bottom of the cave. 

Laureen Beyer going very slowly toward the cave

It was dark inside the cave. 

“Do you feel anything?” 

“Yes,” I replied.

“Wow, what?”

“I think I dislocated my right shoulder.”

The cave was longer than I had thought it would be. I wandered a bit bumping into this wall or that wall, once nearly knocking off the top of my head on a low ceiling and thought that if the ghosts of the murdered Apache were not going to talk to me, it was time to call this adventure off.

Besides, it did seem rather spooky in that dark hole in the ground alone.

One needs to very careful exploring such places

“You want to come down, and see?”

“Nope.”

After dusting myself off and making sure my forehead was not bleeding, I noticed that Laureen was not looking quite herself.

She told me that there was something in the immediate surroundings she could sense. A sense of doom, of tragedy, of unmistakable horror.

“They were afraid to die in such a way.”

I do not question her feelings. I may do it inwardly but not outwardly.

But there was something different in that cave – I am not saying I felt what Laureen did, but it was rather oppressive in the cave. Almost suffocating, but that could be the close quarters and wandering around in a dark place by yourself.

New Reality paranormal investigators, Shawn and Cody, had visited the Apache Death Cave in the past and recorded their investigation for their hit series.

They felt and heard things while pulling their stint within that cave.

We spent time with them when they investigated a haunted ranch house in Lucerne. We all heard and experienced things that long haunting night.

These guys are experts in this paranormal field.

But I am still a skeptic. I am waiting for Casper to come sit next to me on the sofa and explain clearly why he is a ghost and why I need to believe.

In 1881, a bridge was built across Canyon Diablo by the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad and a small tent city, named Canyon Diablo was constructed for the workers.

But that little tent city grew up to be a rootin’-tootin’ full-time town which made Tombstone look like a children’s nursery school.

The population boomed to 2,000 folks overnight and there was at least one killing in the streets near the dozen saloons, gambling halls, and brothels each day.

Some of the ruins at Two Guns, Arizona

In fact, the first Marshall hired to protect the town was shot dead three hours later. It was a lawless town.

Boot Hill became so full that the undertaker ran out of room for any new customers.

One problem with this tale, according to the Republic Newspaper out of Arizona, is that this town probably never existed.

In an article written by Scott Craven, the town had been created by a fictional writer by the name of Gladwell Richardson who passed away in 1980 who had written nearly 300 western novels under various pseudonyms.

When the bridge was completed, the tent city moved on.

It was also Richardson who first wrote about the Apache Death Cave in his only non-fiction book about the town of Two Guns, Arizona. Prior to him writing about it in his book the tragic event had never seen print.

Seems, that both a town so wild Doc Holiday would have circumvented it and a horrific story such as the Apache Death Cave had occurred there should be more mention of it in the history books.

But, as with many historical records, things may get a bit exaggerated by those writing those histories.

Those silly writers. Who do they think they are embellishing here and there?

We walked around studying the layout, checking this out and checking that out and Laureen said she could still feel that something tragic had occurred here in the past.

Perhaps something had happened to the Apache and Navajo in the 19th century and perhaps not.

A town may have been here that was totally lawless but perhaps not.

That is the way with myths and legends, they grow stronger as the decades slip by.

Are they true or does it really matter?

For further information: https://azdot.gov/adot-blog/two-guns-sordid-history-i-40