HAUNTED ST. AUGUSTINE
Visiting Florida’s oldest city, spirits around every corner
As the nation’s oldest European settlement with more than four centuries of bloody battles, pirate attacks, sieges and untold sufferings under its belt, it’s no shocker that St. Augustine on Florida’s northeast coast is dubbed as one of America’s most haunted cities. Countless claims of mysterious paranormal encounters have occurred here in this most authentic old-world setting.
The city’s Flagler College, transformed into a school from the original 1888 Ponce De Leon Hotel, for example, provides more these days than just diplomas. The lavish building also furnishes supernatural manifestations. Its 19th-century namesake, Henry Flagler, is said to have loved many women, some at the same time. His second wife, Ida, enjoyed her spirits and dabbled with the Ouija board. During this time, 1890s St. Augustine pulsed in spiritual exploration, with astrology, tarot cards and such. And it appeared Ida crossed into the dark side, claiming to be the wife of the czar of Russia. Flagler decided enough; one night after an inebriated Ida had embarrassed her aristocratic hubby, he reportedly locked her away in a room, eventually institutionalizing her. Legend says Ida returned after her death. A Flagler College student in a dorm next to Ida’s old room later reported banging noises when her room lay empty. The student’s radio randomly turned itself on and hung items mysteriously fell to the ground.
One of Henry Flagler’s mistresses is also said to have died in a room hiding from Mrs. Flagler. Rumors say college students have peeked through the keyhole of the forbidden room and have seen an apparition hanging from a noose.
Intrigued by the city’s spirited reputation, my daughter, Melita, and I signed up with Ghost Tours of St. Augustine. Starting at dusk, our guide in Victorian dress, Gail, led the way with her lantern. She stopped at various pre-WWI buildings, while serving us a cocktail of cryptic tales—stories like the one of Fay. Our group stood in front of Fay’s old house on Cuna Street [it has since been converted into a small restaurant] as Gail broke into story: “When the home’s stairs to the second floor worsened, Fay finally hired a handyman to repair them,” she tells us. “While Fay was at work, the man came to the house with a bucket of shiny new nails and fixed the stairs. And he did a right good job.” When he returned that evening to collect his fee, Fay refused to pay, Gail tells us, complaining the bill was too high. That proved a grave mistake. The man returned to claw out every nail he had installed the day before. “Fay got home unaware and stomped up the stairs,” Gail continues. “When she hit the top step, the whole stairs wobbled and she goes crashing to the bottom. Being an old grouch, Fay had no friends and nobody missed her dead body for days. Eventually the mailman smelled something and called the police.”
Fay, however, wasn’t staying in any cemetery. When the new owners rented her place to college students, “Fay got rid of them in one night,” Gail tells us. “Doing all her ghost tricks, you know, playing with the shutters, slamming doors, ringing bells, turning off lights.” She chased honeymooners out next. So the owners decided to turn the place into a restaurant. “Fay tolerates that,” Gail says. “But she watches as groups like this pass by. She wants to make sure you don’t intend to stay!”
Our tour ended in an old graveyard. Melita snapped shots of past century headstones, only to look at the instant digital pics
and notice tiny round translucent “orbs” floating everywhere on her camera screen. We were told that orbs are the spiritual energy of the departed. Others in our group had them on their screens too. OK, I admit, combined with Gail’s tales of the lingering dead, I got the jeebees.
Even with a tour, we’d only grazed the surface. It’d take days to explore all the haunts―the Old Jail, Fort Castillo de San Marcos, the Lighthouse, the Old City Gat es, the A1A Ale Works, the Old Drugstore, the Warden Castle (Ripley's Believe It or Not! building), to name a few, all reeking with poltergeist potential.
So beware when you arrive in this unique town for some innocent sightseeing, and be sure to treat your mind to this deeply rooted aspect of St. Augustine’s layered culture.