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When Girls Talk Books
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When Girls Talk Books
BOOK BITES Ghosts of Portland, Oregon
The haunting stories behind Portland, Oregon's most supernatural locations reveal tragic histories and ongoing paranormal activity that continues to affect visitors and staff today.
• The White Eagle bar harbors three ghosts from a tragic love story that ended in three lives lost
• Staff at the White Eagle confirm experiencing perfume scents, mysterious objects, and shadowy figures that match historical accounts
• The lake at Laurelhurst Park is haunted by the spirit of a woman who drowned in 1936 under mysterious circumstances ruled as suicide
• A jogger's encounter with a drowning woman who vanished when he tried to save her suggests a residual haunting at Laurelhurst
• Edgefield, once a poor farm and orphanage, contains energy-draining entities and a child-like apparition that has been known to chase visitors
• McMenamins maintains a "ghost log" at Edgefield where guests can document their paranormal encounters
Editing done by Connor Luther @clfilms.co
Music by @thundercatlouis
Merch Here
Just a quick note before we get started. If you're one of our audio listeners, we did go and visit the places that we talk about today in our episode, so if you want to see us check those out and some little tidbits, feel free to head over to our YouTube channel with Girls Talk Books. Hello everyone, and welcome to another episode of Book Bites. I'm Kylie, I'm Susie.
Speaker 2:I'm Justin.
Speaker 1:And today we're doing. Ghosts of Portland, oregon by Todd Cobb. The Ghosts of Portland Scary, spooky Skeletons.
Speaker 2:Send shivers down my spine and we're starting with the White Eagle, which is here in Portland, one of the McMinimins locations.
Speaker 1:I've heard it's pretty spooky and is notable it feels spooky are you?
Speaker 1:scared, yet I'm getting there everyone knows the white eagle is haunted.
Speaker 1:Ask anyone in portland to name a haunted hot spot and chances are they'll mention the famous bar on north russell street.
Speaker 1:Its stories are as much a part of portland ghost lore as any location and have worked their way into the local mythos as much as the Shanghai tunnels and the gangster-driven pinball wars of the 1950s. As famous as the White Eagle is for its nightly live music and historic oak-backed bar and original ceramic-tiled floors, the bar is perhaps best known for the exploits of three residents, Three residents from the past who still make their presence known nearly a century after their deaths. What the legend contradicts the historical record in places, but like any good story, the tale grains the weight of truth which, each telling so here as it has been passed on to me the author, not me, obviously is the story of the White Eagle haunting. The White Eagle is now owned by brothers, Mike and Brian McMinimum, but before they purchased the bar and folded it into the McMinimum Empire, the establishment was owned by another and it is from his tenure that we have the story of Rose, Sam and the unnamed other. The unnamed other.
Speaker 2:Ooh salacious.
Speaker 1:The north side of Portland back around the turn of the century was a rough and tumble two-fisted kind of place with bars and bordellos aplenty and the white eagle with its 11 room hotel upstairs, smack dab in the middle of the vice, rose was a beautiful young escort who who plied her trade at the white eagle entertaining the men who worked along the waterfront. Dime would buy you a dance, but for more you had to talk to the chinese bouncer who stocked the first floor, scowling and looking for troublemakers. The White Eagle was as famous for its live music then as it is now. And aside from the beautiful women, one of the major draws to the bar was Sam, the reputed best piano player in the Northwest. Nightly Rose danced as Sam played the piano for her. How many nights must he have watched her entertaining other men, breathlessly waiting for her to favor him with a smile or a kind word in between customers, dearest diary.
Speaker 1:You see, sam had fallen in love with Rose and silently he had made plans for their future together. He would take her away from the White Eagle and the rain in Portland and the rough hands of the wh white eagle and the rain in portland and the rough hands of the wharf workers and the mill men. He would take her to seattle or san francisco and they would live off the money he could surely make as a musician there. He would love her and she would love him back, and that would be all that they would really need to survive. One christmas, as a surprise snow fell outside the bar and Sam hammered out a popular tune on the piano, waiting for Rose to emerge from the rooms.
Speaker 1:Upstairs, the bouncer noticed that Sam was edgy and throwing back shots of rye one after another instead of his customary beer. Sam was building up his courage because tonight was the night he had almost a thousand dollars saved in a Christmas present for Rose. He would give it to her. She would love it, and he would tell her of the 10-15 train and the two tickets he had in his breast pocket, their passports to a new life together. When the opportunity came, sam asked Rose if he could see her privately in one of the rooms upstairs. Rose checked with the bouncer who figured what the hell it was Christmas, why not? And the two retired. It didn't go well. Sam presented Rose with her gift a silver pendant, two monkeys facing each other with their tails entwined to form a shape of a heart. It was expensive but tacky, and Rose thanked him and dumped it in her drawer with all the other gifts from her suitors.
Speaker 2:Ouch, oh, my God.
Speaker 1:Then she prepared to give Sam what she believed he had come for. But Sam blurted out his plans, cradled her face and told her of his undying love, of how long he'd waited for this moment and the life he mapped out for them. And she laughed at him. She laughed at him, laughed at like a smart girl. Sam pleaded with her to listen, but she just kept on laughing and drove him into a whiskey. And shame fueled rage. He began destroying her room, throwing over the furniture, smashing the mirror and wailing and screaming with anger and disappointment and heartbreak.
Speaker 1:The bouncer heard the commotion from downstairs and burst in the room to subdue Sam. But so fierce was the jilted lover's frenzy and the much larger bouncer was quickly overpowered and was forced to draw his revolver. The two men struggled for the weapon and, still mad from unrequited passion, sam tore the pistol from the bouncer's hand and shot him through the head. He then turned the gun on Rose and finally himself. That Christmas brought three deaths to the White Eagle and the tragedy of the night even now haunts the bar. That escalated very quickly.
Speaker 1:The former owner and his employees have reported a number of sightings everything from furniture skittering across the floor, ghostly voices to mysterious shades drifting up and down the stairs. One employee tells a story of a silver pendant she saw on the floor during a busy night. She was moving through the tightly packed crowd with her arms full of empty glasses when she spotted something shiny being kicked around the floor. She thought it must have been a piece of jewelry lost by one of the customers and as soon as she dropped off her load of dishes at the kitchen she returned to the bar to retrieve it. But when she got back to the spot where she'd seen it, she couldn't find the unusual piece of jewelry anyway anywhere. She asked around in the crowd if anyone had lost anything, and nobody had.
Speaker 1:Later, after the bar emptied out and she was cleaning up, she saw it again, this time glittering next to the stage in the back corner of the bar. She said it was a strange charm, large and gaudy, something silver with a heart shape where the chain must have would have attached. This time she turned to the bartender and asked if he saw it too. He didn't, and when she turned back to the stage the pendant was gone. The shadows of the traffic, tragic evening, still linger through. The white eagle rose is still there. You can see her sometimes or smell her perfume as she moves through the building, perhaps still looking for a gentleman gentleman to entertain. There have been several reports of her laughter ringing through the rooms upstairs.
Speaker 2:Mm-mm, Mm-mm. No, she did like a good laugh. That rose famously.
Speaker 1:It's a harsh laugh, derisive and mocking, but it often gives way to the sound of sorrow and fear, as if she's still pleading with Sam to spare her life. The bouncer is certainly there. He's the angry ghost, as much a bruiser and death as he was in life. One former employee reportedly being shoved down the stairs, a powerful, powerful push, sending her down to the basement where no one, when no one, was behind her. Others have also reported rough treatment at the hands of an invisible assailant. Antique coins have been known to treatment at the hands of an invisible assailant. Antique coins have been known to fall from the ceiling, perhaps in payment for past services rendered, and cold spots abound throughout the bar. And Sam apparently he's there too. Sorrowful piano music has been heard at times late at night, after the bands have loaded out and the last of the customers have gone home, his sad song echoing through the white eagle for the three lives lost there to violence, all in the name of love that is spooky overall.
Speaker 2:Just a very sad, unexpected story.
Speaker 1:Uh, some strange turn of events I think like okay, this guy doesn't really talk to her and it's like no, I'm gonna plan this whole life for us, not even knowing if she's interested or not. He saved up the money, he bought the tickets and he's like she's just gonna go with me what year did it happen?
Speaker 2:yeah, it doesn't say oh, it's gonna say it seems like for movies and stuff. That's kind of how it went back. Then it'd be like here, woman, I have this monetary value equal to this amount I own you now.
Speaker 1:What do you?
Speaker 2:mean you don't want my half-ass example of a life.
Speaker 1:I have a thousand dollars. Next is why, if a woman, says no, don't murder her Honestly, like good for her, seriously, she knew what she was worth and also don't accept shitty jewelry from men Like if it's ugly, throw it in a drawer.
Speaker 2:And Except shitty jewelry from men Like if it's ugly, throw it in a drawer. And last but not least, yeah, no monkey necklaces and no monkey business.
Speaker 1:That's good.
Speaker 2:Sorry, I was right there, that was good, it's a little rude to like laugh directly at someone's face. It doesn't really warrant murder.
Speaker 1:Think of her line of work, though, Like how many men has she?
Speaker 2:seen and things like that.
Speaker 1:I'm sure she'd seen this exact thing a million times.
Speaker 2:She's like oh, let me guess you're going to change my whole life and we're going to live happily ever after.
Speaker 1:Exactly, I'm not like the other guys.
Speaker 2:Yeah, I'm sure she'd seen that scene a million times.
Speaker 1:You know, another one.
Speaker 2:I'm so glad he didn't overreact.
Speaker 1:Yes, I'm glad he stayed calm that.
Speaker 2:And if this is the first spooky one and it's that spooky how spooky is the rest of what we're going to do tonight? That sounds spooky Piano music at night, when you're the only one there would spook me out.
Speaker 1:for sure Not even the piano music. There was an employee who got shoved down the stairs into the basement.
Speaker 2:People in the service industry haven't they been through enough For real? I've been on my feet for like eight hours straight running around to grab your three things at a ranch.
Speaker 2:So why don't you give me a little bit of a break? Yeah, why don't you help me out? Okay, so we talked to a few of the bartenders inside and it was a very nice mother and daughter who both work upstairs in the hotel also, and we asked them if they think the place is haunted and they both said absolutely. They both said said that they smell perfume like I said in the book, just like randomly get a huge burst of perfume in their face in one specific room in room four. They said that several people in the last couple months even have seen like a really dark, shadowy figure that they think is Sam. They knew all about Sam.
Speaker 2:There's a picture on the wall that he was in, so that was pretty weird to see. But yeah, they said they hear all kinds of things Cherries moving around and like knocks on doors and nobody's around. They're really nice and it was pretty cool that they said the same thing, that or said a lot of the same things that the book said, but without us telling them about it. So it was very weird and creepy and spooky in a fun kind of way.
Speaker 1:Okay, onto the next. And if you thought that was spooky, just wait for part two. Bum, bum, bum Woo. Two of three. Yeah, this one is called the Lady in the Lake.
Speaker 2:Na, na, na, na na na na. Oh, my god, there she is.
Speaker 1:Ladies, ladies, okay, laurelhurst Park is an oasis of bucolic serenity. Located along busy Southeast 39th Street and Stark Avenue in Portland, insulated from the noisy crush of the city by a thick canopy of trees, laurelhurst Park is 26 acres of dramatic landscape, based in part on New York City's Central Park. The terrain is rich, with long serpentine paths ideal for leisurely strolls, broad meadows, perfect for picnicking and afternoon naps in the soft grass.
Speaker 2:That is what we saw everyone doing here, yeah.
Speaker 1:Okay, everyone's got the right idea and a three-acre lake that began life as a watering hole for the Jersey cattle owned by two-time Portland mayor William S Ladd. So you're telling me?
Speaker 2:I used to be able to see cute cows here, yeah, and now the best I get- is a squirrel.
Speaker 1:Now we get sticks. No, it's just ducks. The land was acquired in 1911 by the city of Portland and by 1919 it had been developed into the most beautiful park in the West Coast. In 2001, laurelhurst Park became the first city park named to the National Register of Historic Places. There is a great deal of history associated with Laurelhurst. The park has been home to parties, weddings, dances and celebrations, proposals and breakups.
Speaker 1:Brutal yeah, popularter sunrise service popular easter sunrise services were once held there, and for years the park's lake was home to the regal pageantry of the annual rose festival, queen coronation, as the queen in her court would drift majestically across a lake on a float, on a flotilla of a flower covered boats and rafts a flotilla how beautiful but the lake in laurel hearst has more stories associated with it than just high school princess.
Speaker 1:We princesses weeping as a trail of soggy crepe paper and rose petals swirled in the wakes Stories you won't read in any travel guide. On the morning of October 9th 1936, 10-year-old Donald West was playing in the park near the bank of the lake. At about noon he found something there that seemed out of place a woman's suit, coat and one shoe. Thinking the clothing had been accidentally left behind, he immediately notified park watchman EJ Dahl. When watchman D left behind, he immediately notified Park Watchman EJ Dahl.
Speaker 1:When Watchman Dahl investigated, he found the clothing belonged to Miss Paula Wereneth, 45 of Spokane, washington. In her pockets were $8 in cash and $300 in American Traveler's Check no small sum for 1936, and not something a person would purposely leave unattended. But where was Miss Werneth? Watchman Dahl found out when he casually looked toward the lake. She was there face down in the water, drowned. After a member of the Harbor Patrol and a fireman had retrieved the body and an autopsy was completed. The authorities found no sign of foul play. Her death was ruled a suicide, and the questions of what had brought the Washington resident to the lake in Laurelhurst Park and what had driven her to end her life was left unanswered.
Speaker 1:A suicide, that's what they were trying to call this.
Speaker 2:That's a classic case of women being crazy what kind of person calmly drowns themselves.
Speaker 1:This incident would have remained a little more than a sad note rounds. This incident would have remained a little more than a sad note, a sad footnote to the history of laurel hearst park, if it wasn't for the experience of a lone jogger some 50 years later, according to reports, early one morning a jogger, a recently widowed man of about middle age, was working his way along his usual route through the park. It was dark and a thin fog clung to the ground where the path sloped down toward the lake. As he passed, he saw a woman standing there, her head down, close to the water, and her posture that of someone in careful concentration or silent prayer. The jogger thought it was strange that she would be out so early on a cold, damp morning without a jacket, but she didn't seem chilled by the mist, just silent and just still.
Speaker 1:He was soon past her and thinking about finishing his run and getting home when he heard a splash, he doubled back. It could have only taken a few seconds for him to cover the ground, but when he reached the lake he didn't find the woman where he expected. She wasn't in the shallow water near the bank, but further out, face down as if she had been drifting there for some time. Maybe she'd passed out. Maybe she'd passed out and fallen in. Maybe she was sick or hurt. Whatever it was, she needed help and, without thinking, the jogger dashed into the frigid water, forcing his way forward until he was submerged up to his neck. The woman was floating right in front of him, but every time he reached her she seemed to move just beyond his fingertips. Oh, God.
Speaker 2:No, this is oh.
Speaker 1:The cold closed of a tight fist around his chest. He felt his footing betraying him on the slick bottom of the lake and he started to swim, but still the woman stayed just out of his reach. He made a last-ditch effort to grab her, bobbing up and down in the water before hurling forward. A last-ditch effort to grab her bobbing up and down in the water before hurling forward. But when he came down expecting to wrap his arms around the woman, he slammed into nothing but an icy surface of the lake. He thrashed around in the water desperately trying to find the woman, but got only a mouthful of cold water for the effort. She had vanished. The exhausted jogger dragged himself back to the shore. Torn over whether he should report to the police, something he wasn't sure he could explain to himself he eventually went home.
Speaker 2:I thought they'd be like yeah, sure, buddy, Okay.
Speaker 1:Could what the jogger encountered have been a residual haunting, a supernatural playback of a traumatic life-ending event centered on a moment of intense emotion? If it was, could it have been the death of Alla Werenerth he witnessed? There's no way to be certain. As Miss Werenerth had done with her motivation for coming to Portland and committing suicide. Now, 70 years ago, the lake in Laurelhurst Park keeps its secrets.
Speaker 2:Never figured out what really happened to her. They just ruled it as a suicide. Yeah, because that makes sense, just because that's how all the women are killing themselves like her having cash and traveler's checks.
Speaker 1:Yeah, and just like it's crazy. Yeah, I know I'm like what about her past, though?
Speaker 2:like now I need to google.
Speaker 1:I'm upset that no, yeah, uh details details literally that's crazy, that like feeling of like chasing something or trying to get like I can't even imagine, just like seeing somebody in there like I would do the same thing I would panic and get in really and be like having having to get to her okay and to think he was already going through kind of a horrible time. Okay, like lost his wife and now trying to save this other woman.
Speaker 2:It's not real. How do you?
Speaker 1:People would probably think you're crazy.
Speaker 2:Oh, you miss your wife so much. Uh-huh yeah.
Speaker 1:Would you have called the police if?
Speaker 2:it was you? Yeah, I would have too, I would have probably.
Speaker 1:I would have thought she went under and I couldn't find her.
Speaker 2:I would have thought she went under and I couldn't find her. I would have stayed on the shore and called, like upset, probably, shobby.
Speaker 1:There was this lady. I'm not leaving until somebody gets here. Yeah, why aren't you?
Speaker 1:taking me seriously yeah, and then I would have been on the news. Yeah, okay, and we are on to the next place. Exciting, so now we are at edgefield. A man and a woman resumed a room at edgefield, the 38 acre mcminimum's hotel and Estate at the mouth of the Columbia River Gorge, to celebrate their anniversary. They made the short drive to the hotel together late in the afternoon and as soon as they checked in and dropped off their bags in their room, went down to the restaurant for an early dinner. As they ate, the man became extraordinarily fatigued, as if he'd been up for days. He could barely keep his eyes open during the meal. He excused himself and went back to the room to lie down while his wife finished eating.
Speaker 1:The building that houses the main hotel on the Edgefield Estate dates back to 1911. The whole European-style village is made up of richly restored buildings, some of which were once home to a facility known as the Multnomah County Poor Farm. The room the couple was staying in had been part of the infirmary at the one-time orphanage. As the man headed down towards the room, he became even more tired, as if something was draining his energy with each step. Without undressing, he dropped down onto the bed and fell instantly to sleep, but his rest was not a peaceful one. He was assaulted with disturbing dreams, dreams of unbearable hunger and deprivation, fear and pain, and a desperate loneliness that made him sob in his sleep. He remained in this unbearable state until his wife returned to the room and, after much effort, managed to wake him. He tried to explain to his wife what he'd just experienced, but found it almost impossible to describe. The feeling had been so visceral, so real and overwhelming that he could scarcely find the words to express them. His wife tried to rouse and reassure him. They had many plans for the evening A walk around the garden and a movie at the theater was their anniversary, after all, and they had been looking forward to the trip for weeks.
Speaker 1:Her husband complained of extreme thirst, and she brought him a glass of water before stepping into the bathroom to freshen up. There she was seized by the same oppressive tiredness. Her energy instantly drained from her body and she almost fainted. As she fought to hold on to her balance, something unseen slammed into her, a rough shove that nearly knocked her off her feet. It yanked on her hair and pawed at her face.
Speaker 1:She screamed for her husband and ran back into the room, only to find him once again unconscious on the bed. This time he wouldn't wake up and only moaned in his sleep before rolling away from her. She shook him and yelled him his name, but as she did, she felt herself, began to slip into oblivion and sink down onto the bed next to him. She was nearly out herself when, in a last-ditch effort to save them both, she grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and threw it in his face. That did the trick. With her help, her husband struggled, but to pull himself from the bed and drag his wife up after him without a word, they both grabbed their still packed bags and ran from the car.
Speaker 1:Can you imagine, oh my god, that's crazy the energy draining, exhaustion and oppressive presence clung to them like a fog as they sped away from the hotel. They thought they would feel better as they got as the further they got away. But they didn't, and the man had to fight to keep control on the winding road After a hairpin turn forced them to slow down. The couple caught sight of something in their rearview mirror. They realized they were being pursued. They could see it in the red glow of the taillights, close enough to cut through the pluming clouds of exhaust. It looked like a naked child, or what had once been a child, oh my god. But now its features were distorted and hide, oh my god. Ew, david, ew, creaking through the cold night. Its arms were ghastly in elongated past reason, dragging along the ground and flapping behind as it pursued the car with its lopping even gait.
Speaker 2:They were. I don't like, I haven't even been inside, I have to be alone. I can't believe this.
Speaker 1:I'm scared. They were going better than 60 miles an hour, but the apparition had no trouble keeping up. It's misshapen feet barely making contact with the pavement and it raced after them, yabba-dabba-doo style.
Speaker 2:You picture Bash running at 60 miles an hour.
Speaker 1:You picture Bash running at 60 miles an hour. In the rearview mirror, the man saw a wraith lift those awful, impossible arms and strain to reach them. Its expression plaintive, pained and imploring. Finally, the road straightened out and the man was able to stomp down on the accelerator. Unfortunately, their car was badly in need of a tune-up as a matter of fact, I beg your finest pardon. As a matter of fact, he promised to get that done as part of his anniversary present.
Speaker 2:Such is life.
Speaker 1:Just as soon as they got home from their trip, the moment he gunned it, the engine choked and threatened to stall. The creature gained ground on them and its terrible arms reached within an inch of their bumper.
Speaker 2:Chat.
Speaker 1:we're good the couple broke out in shouts of frustration and fear, but finally that's it.
Speaker 2:They said golly darn.
Speaker 1:But finally.
Speaker 2:Well shucks.
Speaker 1:But finally the engine revved and the car lurched forward. The speedometer edged past 75 and headed north of 80. As they flew down the road, the spectator chasing them waved its insane arms in frustration, and the sound that escaped it was both horrible and heart-wrenching, like a chorus of frightened children. Eventually, the couple outpaced the Phantom and they sped towards home with a combination of relief. I would not go straight home.
Speaker 2:That's good True.
Speaker 1:Straight to a church With a combination of relief, horror and terrible sadness. This is the first story I heard about Edgefield before I learned of the impressive hotel, about the brew pubs and the movie theater, before I went out there and saw the fantastic old buildings and the spectacular scenery of the columbia river gorge on the drive. Mcminnum's has made something really special in troutdale, and whereas I didn't personally experience anything supernatural during my stay, I heard plenty of stories, not all as disturbing as this one right many recorded in the ghost log kept for visitors who might want to document any spectral encounters, and I had a great time doing it. There were tales of ghost lights and phantom flutes that plays late at night. There have even been reports of playful spirits that tickle their feet and ruffle their heads.
Speaker 2:Don't touch me.
Speaker 1:This is a no touching zone.
Speaker 2:You're in a crazy ass place if they have a ghost log.
Speaker 1:And as long as Edgefield's doors are open to ghost hunters and fun loving guests, I'm sure there will be more.
Speaker 2:That's spooky. Overall, that's definitely one of the worst we've done. I didn't even talk about how this place used to be a mental asylum right, and that was supposed to be what.
Speaker 1:Well, it kind of did Like. It just mentioned what it was, yeah.
Speaker 2:Yeah, but yeah, there's a lot more to this. We could do a few episodes, we could do a whole thing. It's just like part of your stay, yeah.
Speaker 1:Place is crazy. I wonder if we could find it Like I wonder where it is. Probably Okay, that'll be it from us. I hope you enjoyed this episode. If you want to see more stuff like that, let us know, and if you have any recommendations, but for now we're old ladies and we want to go to bed, so bye.
