Ghosts

Unlike many other California Gold Rush towns, Columbia never died. Perhaps it was still infused with the energy and optimism of the 1850s, when rich deposits of gold had briefly made it into one of the largest cities in California. Perhaps people here clung to their family histories, their deceased ancestors in the graveyard, the memories they held. But for many decades after the placer ran out and the miners mostly moved on, a few hundred people called Columbia their home.

The tiny downtown itself was mouldering and on the verge of literal collapse by the 1920s, but the energy of its citizens convinced the state to make it a California State Park in 1945. Once it became a tourist destination, the character of the town changed. No longer a decrepit dying hamlet, it became an open-air museum, celebrating the Gold Rush with souvenirs and experiences for tourists. Of course, it took decades to raise the money to fully restore a lot of buildings, but almost immediately it became popular with tourists who were seeking an “authentic” experience.

Fallon House Hotel and Theatre still stands grandly at the entrance to Columbia State Park. The two-story brick edifice goes back to 1859, when it was a boarding house and a ballroom built by an Irish immigrant. Twenty-five years later his son and heir, James Fallon, turned the ballroom into a bar and added a theater, satisfying his two greatest interests. Fallon House slowly disintegrated along with the rest of the town, and the upstairs hotel became dangerously rotted and was condemned. But downstairs, the theater itself was well enough maintained that performances happened every summer from the mid twentieth century on, with college students presenting musicals, mysteries, and comedies for decades.

Today, Fallon House has been fully restored. Plays are performed there year-round by a local professional theater group, Sierra Rep. There is an ice cream parlor in Jim Fallon’s old bar and Gold Rush era themed hotel rooms on the second floor. It’s a charming historical building that’s been fine-tuned for tourists.

And naturally, it’s haunted.

1978

Amanda clutched the hand of her boyfriend Michael, and he squeezed back. At this point in the summer, the University of the Pacific’s 8-week summer theater program was more than half over. All five shows had been cast, rehearsed, produced, and were running in repertory. Amanda and Michael had been cast opposite each other in the first show of the season, a musical. They’d developed crushes on each other at the first read-through, and had reached full-on “shomance” status by the third day of rehearsal. They had been inseparable all summer.

Amanda was the very talented daughter of a moderately successful Hollywood actress and her sugar-daddy husband. She’d decided to spend her summer in Columbia because she could do a lot of different plays, and it was far from her mother in L.A. Michael was a “local,” born and raised in neighboring Sonora. He’d been seeing shows at Fallon House since childhood, and this was his second season as a company member.

Tonight, they sat in a half-circle on the stage along with a few other company members and a junior staff member who would be in big trouble if anyone found out he was taking company members into the theater after hours.

But this was the Ghost Tour, not to be missed. The theater and the condemned and locked-off hotel on the second floor were said to be haunted. It was part of the legend of the place, and along with the after-dark graveyard tour, was a requisite for company members who believed in ghosts, or wanted to.

Tonight’s group of ghost hunters sat wide-eyed, trying to see through the darkness, which was relieved only by the “ghost light,” a single bulb on a stand, left in the middle of the stage of all live theaters overnight.

“Try to focus on the shadows,” whispered Todd, the junior staff member with the keys. “If you focus long enough, you’ll see them move.” And indeed everyone’s eyeballs, dry from not blinking, began to play tricks on them and they saw the shadows move, and a murmur went up.

“It’s not just the shadow people,” continued Todd. “Now that you’ve seen them once, you’ll see them again. This place is haunted by many spirits. There’s a lady in white, but you only see her upstairs in the hotel part, which is off limits. The floors are almost gone except where the beams are. But sometimes, if you’re alone in the lobby, you can hear someone running up there. Who is it? No one knows.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the darkness.

Michael spoke up, “How about Jim Fallon? He’s the ghost I’ve heard about.”

“Yes,” intoned Todd. “Jim Fallon. James Fallon. His father built this place and James inherited it. He built the theater where you’re sitting now. He lived and died in Columbia, he’s buried in the graveyard, but they say his spirit never really left Fallon House. Sometimes, you hear footsteps when there’s no one there—“ Todd stopped abruptly. They could all hear loud footsteps. The theater was in shadows, but if someone were walking out there, they’d see movement. Nothing. Just the sound of footsteps, which suddenly stopped.

“We’re okay, we’re okay,” said Todd, voice shaking a little. See the ghost light? As long as it’s burning, we’re in light. And ghosts don’t hurt—“

“Todd,” interrupted Amanda, her voice shaking. She pointed to a spot in the balcony, where everyone could now see the figure of a man. He stood perfectly still. He wore a long coat and a tall top hat, which shaded his face so they couldn’t see it.

Todd swallowed. He’d brought other company members there, and he sort of believed in ghosts, but he had never seen an apparition before. Was it real? His voice shook as he called, “Jim Fallon, are you with us?”

There was a rushing sound. As if it were a candle blown out by the wind, the ghost light flickered and went dark. The group, panicked, rose and ran for the door, shrieking. Outside, terror gave way to hysteria, and they laughed until they cried.

It was the best summer of Amanda’s life, and when it ended in August, she was devastated. She and Michael stood in the parking lot for a long time after everyone else had left, weeping and embracing. They made many promises to write to each other, to come back the next summer. Then a sobbing Amanda drove away, Los Angeles bound, and Michael went home to his family, feeling as empty as he ever had. They wrote letters for awhile, but Amanda’s abruptly stopped.

By mid-September, Amanda wasn’t feeling well, and skipped her period. By October, she’d taken a pregnancy test that was positive. It was November before she worked up the courage to tell her mother. After that, it was all pain and shame and being yelled at. Months with her angry mother in a rented cottage in San Diego, then the birth of a daughter and her immediate adoption. Her mother flatly refused to let her tell Michael, and she was so ashamed that she didn’t insist.

After it was all over, they went on as if nothing had happened. By the next fall, Amanda had an agent and had booked a national commercial, and quickly thereafter the role on Counting Carters, a series that ran for seven seasons and made her face familiar to most Americans. There were many more roles after that. From time to time, she wondered if Michael ever saw her on TV or in the movies. If he did, he never tried to contact her.

2024

The Lake Tahoe trip was a way for Amanda to get away from the crowds (she was recognized everywhere she went) and spend uninterrupted time with her daughter and granddaughter. Since Jennifer and Amanda had found each other on 23andme, Amanda’s life had felt more complete than it ever had. Her two marriages had not given her any other children, and she was beyond happy to have her own family at last.

Her daughter Jennifer was a kindred spirit and good friend. Amanda adored her 10-year-old granddaughter, Joy, and treasured every second of her company. Joy had studied the California Gold Rush the year before in school, and was fascinated by the stories of miners, so she begged her grandmother for a side trip to Columbia State Park on the way to Tahoe.

Joy had come up with the Gold Rush history trip idea on her own, and chosen the destination, including a night at the historic Fallon Hotel. When Amanda told her that she’d actually spent a summer there, Joy was even more excited. “It’s supposed to be haunted, Gram! Did you ever see a ghost there?” Amanda, no longer sure what she had actually seen almost 50 years earlier, was vague.

Inside the front door at Fallon House, the air smelled like dusty velvet and antiques, as it always had, but now there was also a sweet smell, and she could see a full-on ice cream parlor through an arched doorway. That was new, as was the welcoming staircase leading up to the hotel rooms.

When a young man appeared to check them in, Amanda was so surprised it took a minute to catch her breath. It was Michael. Exactly as he had looked 50 years ago. Dark curly hair, humorous mouth, green eyes. Or rather, it couldn’t be Michael, she corrected herself. Someone who looked like him. She couldn’t speak for a moment, and Jennifer gave their names and got their keys. Amanda noticed his name tag said Joshua, and found her voice. “A lot of history here?”

“Oh you’d better believe it,” he said cheerfully. It goes back to the 1850s. Of course it burned down a few times before they figured out they should use bricks.” He laughed. “The original hotel was built by this guy, Owen Fallon, and his son James added a theater. This is back in the nineteenth century.” Suddenly his voice changed to an exaggerated spooky tone. “They say he never left, and roams the halls to this day, wearing a top hat and smoking a cigar.” He winked at Joy, who was entranced.

Amanda looked at Jennifer to see if this was okay for Joy to hear, but she just rolled her eyes.

The young man continued. “Of course, he’s not the only spirit.”

“The lady in white,” said Amanda spontaneously. Everyone looked at her. “There’s always a lady in white,” she said, and laughed. The spell was broken.

Joy was impatient to explore the town. Bouncing out the hotel door, she said excitedly, “Which way?” Amanda gestured down the street and they headed that way on the dirt road. With every step, she felt that she was going back in time, not to the Gold Rush, but to her own youth. Then they turned the corner, and she was overwhelmed by the familiar smells of town. The dusty oak trees in the heat. Beer and sticky-sweet sarsaparilla from the Jack Douglass Saloon, still the old-timey tourist bar it had been nearly 50 years earlier. A faint whiff of horse poop as they passed the stagecoach stop.

Amanda suddenly said, “There used to be a candy store up here where they hand-dipped chocolates. Shall we see if it’s still there?” They spent the afternoon giving Joy every Gold Rush experience the town had to offer. She panned for gold. She bought a lucky horseshoe at the blacksmith shop. She took a stagecoach ride, drank sarsaparilla, and had her photo taken in an old-timey sunbonnet. And in between each experience, she peppered her grandmother with questions about what it had been like to live in this town for a summer so long ago, and in answering them, Amanda remembered things she hadn’t thought about in years.

Back at the hotel, she said to Joshua, “I actually performed here many years ago. Could we possibly take a peek in the theater? Lots of fond memories.”

“Well, sure,” he said. “Down that hall. The door should be open, they’re repairing seats.”

The theater itself looked exactly the same, proscenium stage, rows of seats, and a curved balcony. The unchanged appearance was not surprising in a state park where maintaining authenticity was paramount. But it seemed much smaller, somehow, than it had when it was full of people and they were laughing and applauding at Amanda's performances in 1978. She looked at the stage and remembered that Ghost Tour when she and Michael had clung to each other, and suddenly her throat was tight and her eyes filled with tears.

When Jennifer and Joy headed up the stairs, she hung back with Joshua. “You look exactly like someone I knew when I was here a long time ago. I mean, the way he looked then. Michael,” she said. “My friend was named Michael.”

He broke into a broad smile, then a shadow of sadness passed over his face, though he still smiled. “My grandfather,” he said. “Sorry to have to tell you, he passed two years ago. He was great. He worked here in this building for a long time.”

As she asked more questions, he seemed happy to share details about his family with her. She remembered that the family went back almost to the Gold Rush here, and he confirmed that. He also told her that he was the fifth generation of the family to have worked in Fallon House in one way or another. “Did you know my grandpa when he was an actor here during college, or when he managed the place later on?”

“In college,” she said. “He was a good actor.”

“That’s what he said,” his grandson replied, and they both laughed. “Hey,” he said, “I hope you get a chance to meet my mother. She’d get a kick out of it. She’ll be here in the morning.”

Amanda didn’t sleep much in the antique bed she was sharing with Joy. She had invited her granddaughter to sleep with her because Jennifer looked so tired, and Joy, who still sometimes sleepwalked, needed someone who would wake up if she wandered. She couldn’t stop thinking about Michael’s family. This grandson who looked just like him. The mother, Michael’s daughter, who she might meet in the morning. Michael’s daughter. His other daughter. Jennifer’s sister.

For a long time, she thought about the implications of that. Jennifer had no idea who her father was. Amanda wished now that she’d had the courage years ago to look him up, to know Michael again and tell him the truth. But she hadn’t done it and it was too late.

But Jennifer had a sister, had a whole family, in fact, that she knew nothing about. Was it fair to keep that from her? On the other hand, was it fair to disturb Michael’s family, including presumably his widow, with a past entanglement they knew nothing about? She wished she hadn’t returned, but now that she had, what should she do?

Eventually, she dozed, but awoke instantly when she heard the door open and found Joy gone. Not wanting to take time to pull on her sweats, she grabbed the white quilted bedspread and wrapped it around her as she went into the the hallway. Joy, in her pajamas, stood silently by the window at the end of the hall. Before Amanda could move that way, she heard soft voices on the stairway.

“I thought it was going to be empty tonight,” said one, a young female voice.

A male voice softly replied. “Just two rooms booked, at the end of the front hallway.”

Another male voice. “Down the side hallway, then. Do you have the key to the room?”

“Got the key, got the ouija board,” said the first voice. It sounded like a group of teenagers sneaking up the stairs, too excited to be as quiet as they were trying to be. The stairs creaked, and somebody stifled a laugh. Then she could see that they had reached the top of the stairs, where they stopped short. She could see the pale ovals of their faces and suddenly realized they were staring at her in terror.

“Dudes. The lady in white,” breathed one of them, and she had difficulty not bursting out laughing. Slowly she raised her arms, and could see them clutching at each other, frozen in fear. Then, slowly, she took a few steps toward them, and as she expected, they turned and ran down the stairs, trying to muffle their shrieks.

Now she did laugh. But as she turned to see if Joy had heard them, she was suddenly aware that Joy wasn’t alone. A tall man stood beside her, silhouetted by the window. Not the ghost of Jim Fallon, no top hat and no overcoat. This man was dressed in modern clothing and wasn’t carrying anything. He didn’t seem threatening, he just gazed down at sleepwalking Joy. Then he turned and Amanda could see his face.

It was Michael. Not the Michael she had known, but a recent Michael, the way he would have looked near the end of his life. She could see that he was smiling, almost laughing, and she was overwhelmed by a sense of love. Then he was gone.

She went down the hallway to where he had been, and gently gathered Joy in her arms, and with both of them wrapped in the bedspread, quietly walked her back to bed, where she instantly closed her eyes and was asleep.

The next night, in their Tahoe cabin, Joy asleep, Amanda poured wine and she and Jennifer sat in a darkened room, watching the moon’s reflection in the lake. They sat in silence for a few minutes while Amanda thought about what she was going to say. Then, turning to her daughter, she began.