The spooky fun doesn’t have to end when the throngs of trick-or-treaters tromp home with their sugar-loaded treasure.
When the winds howl and leaves rustle in the dark, it’s the perfect time to warm up some hot cocoa, sort through candy and share a tale or two of Vancouver’s haunted past.
Don’t know any local lore? Fear not. A list of some of our favorites lay below — with many more lurking online on the Columbian’s Ghost Stories blog at http://blogs.columbian.com/ghost-stories.
Vancouver’s missing mayor: The I-5 Bridge ghost?
There was a bite in the air on the drizzly October morning in 1920 when former Vancouver Mayor Grover R. Percival told his wife he was heading out for a long walk through his beloved city.
That Sunday, Oct. 17, was his last day in office, and Percival seemed relaxed with his decision to not run for a second term.
Early that morning, he strolled across the Interstate Bridge, built just three years earlier — a project he proudly supported as a city councilor.
And a few hours later, he walked back over the bridge to Vancouver, eventually meandering down Seventh Street.
After that, no one saw him until he briefly appeared on 26th Street at 3 p.m., still ambling along at a leisurely pace.
And that was the last time anyone saw him alive.
“That was the great mystery of the day,” said Pat Jollota, a Vancouver author, history buff and former city council member. “He was seen downtown tipping his hat, and then he just disappeared.”
The next day, Oct. 18, all of the downtown stores closed at 1 p.m., and a group of 285 Vancouver businessmen, divided into 18 search parties, began a frantic search for Percival.
They found nothing but false leads. And they continued to find nothing for more than a month.
It wasn’t until Nov. 22, long after the trail had gone cold, that Portlander O.F. Williams decided to take a shortcut through the wilderness on his way home from the Kenton neighborhood. There, “in a clump of trees about 100 yards from the Oregon approach to the Northbank railroad bridge,” Williams found Percival’s body hanging from a tree, according to a report in The Evening Columbian.
“According to those who saw the body, there is every reason to believe that Mr. Percival took his own life. His personal papers and some jewelry and some money were still on his body,” the story said.
But not everyone believes he committed suicide.
“What if he didn’t kill himself?” Jollota said. “I’ve wondered for some time if he was, indeed, murdered.”
Not everyone was a big fan of his work on the controversial Interstate Bridge, after all.
And the night before he vanished, Percival attended a port commission meeting “and seemed somewhat nervous,” an Oct. 17 story in The Evening Columbian said.
But his finances were in order, he wasn’t depressed about the election, and he seemed to be looking forward to returning to his successful insurance business, Jollota said.
“He was seen in a good mood on the day he vanished,” Jollota said.
So what really happened to him? We may never know.
That is, unless his spirit finds a way to tell the tale.
In the many years following his disappearance, and even today, residents sometimes report seeing a tall, slender man wearing 1920s-era clothing strolling across older parts of the bridge — especially on fall nights.
Those who have seen him say he appears solid, wearing a long black coat, but if approached, the figure quickly vanishes in the mist.
Could it be the ghost of Percival, still continuing his stroll, unaware of his untimely demise? If you see him on a dark fall night, perhaps you can ask him in the lingering seconds before he vanishes once again.
Vancouver Barracks
There’s no shortage of creepy tales surrounding the historic Vancouver Barracks, especially the East Barracks buildings that, among others, were transferred to the National Park Service in May 2012.
In 1982, workers digging for a water pipe in a basement of one of those buildings uncovered some bones and coffins that were part of an old cemetery dating to 1846. The remains sat in the open in that basement from 1982 to 1993, which may have ramped up the ghostly activity, according to a 1999 story by Brett Oppegaard in The Columbian.
“If you work late at night, you can hear footsteps upstairs, people talking, and doors opening and closing,” Lt. Col. Ward Jones, the former barracks commander, said in that story.
Tales of mysterious voices, rustling papers, doors slamming on their own, and an overall eerie feeling come from across the entire site. But the most activity seems to be associated with the cryptically named buildings 987, 989, 991 and 993, which were built between 1904 and 1907, and served as double infantry barracks and administrative offices.
Over the years, workers have reported a host of strange noises and cold drafts in the creaky hallways and basements.
One worker said his usually very friendly dog became aggressive and frightened whenever the dog accompanied him to work at the site.
And Aaron M., a soldier stationed at Building 993 from 2000-01, told local historian and ghost hunter Jeff Davis, on his http://www.ghostsandcritters.com site, that: “Almost every time I would go there, the hair on the back of my neck would stand straight up. I would always feel as if someone was watching me.”
The soldier also said workers would often quit after spending some time in the building basement, claiming that they felt they were being watched or saw doors slam and objects move on their own.
In one case while he was on duty, Aaron M. noted that after checking on a security alarm that went off one night, he and another soldier found an 80-pound safe had moved several feet across a room that had been locked and armed with a keypad.
Gina Sabina Deschner shared a tale from her husband of the same safe in the Columbian’s comments section online.
“The (safe) that (mysteriously) moved out from the wall was so heavy (that) it took three or four men to move it back,” she said. “It was more than 80 pounds, but it moved back away from the wall again on its own.”
Her husband, who worked in the building, often reported hearing boot steps, the sounds of soldiers playing pool when nobody was there and even a child crying in the basement.
What happened there? Tales of hangings, accidental shootings and other mishaps abound in the 110-year-old buildings, but don’t try to dig further if you’re a would-be ghost hunter. The buildings are closed to the public, and those who venture there have more than ghosts to fear; they can also be arrested for trespassing.
Hidden House
Over the years, some people have reported mysterious singing at the Hidden House, 100 W. 13th St.
L.M. Hidden, who built the house, came to Vancouver from Vermont during the Civil War and was one of the city’s pioneers.
Beginning in 1864, he began farming and buying land in the area. He started Clark County’s first trolley, dug the region’s first water system, helped organize the first county fair and assisted with the area’s first railroad. The family is probably best known for its brickyard, which opened in 1871.
The home is now a Greek restaurant.
The source behind the singing could be the ghost of Hidden’s daughter, Julie Hidden, who once liked to go door-to-door singing around town, said Brad Richardson of the Clark County Historical Museum.
Some employees from other businesses that operated out of the home have reported hearing a ghostly greeting when they entered the house, Richardson said.
“They also said they’d come in and find doors locked or open, and sometimes they’d hear footsteps,” Richardson said.
