Queer Paranormal Road Trip: Keating House Bed & Breakfast

During my time living in California, ghost stories were always close to my mind. I even contemplated writing a book of haunted places in one specific area of town, but it would have taken many months just to amass and uncover any legends. Still I did keep my eyes and ears opened for any whispers of spooks. I did find one tantalizing place but left before I was able to pay it a visit. If you find yourself in San Diego it might be worth spending a few nights at Keating House to enjoy the Victorian atmosphere... and perhaps a ghost.

George James Keating was originally from Halifax, Nova Scotia where he was born in 1840 but he immigrated to the United States in his 20s and settled in Kansas where he operated a very successful agricultural machinery business. With his newfound wealth, Keating and his wife Fannie headed west to the boom town of San Diego and built their glorious new home in 1886 in a wealthy area known as Banker's Hill. George became an asset to the community, acting as the first president of the short-lived Hospital of the Good Samaritan in January of 1889. Keating passed away in the early hours of June 22 later that year. His wife carried on her husband's work, building the Keating Building at 5th Avenue and F Street as George had intended. The Reid Brothers--architects responsible for the famous and also haunted Hotel del Coronado--carried out the construction of the unreinforced masonry Romanesque Revival office building in 1890. It still stands today in the heart of the Gaslamp Quarter, retrofitted for seismic regulations in the city, and houses the luxurious Keating Hotel.

Fannie passed away in 1909. The house still stands as a beautiful example of Queen Anne Victorian design in what is now known as Park West. Keating House was lovingly restored in 1975 and the Keating House Bed & Breakfast opened nine years later. The current innkeepers, Ben Baltic and Doug Scott, offer guests their choice of eight rooms and a garden suite in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Of course, there may be an additional guest not listed in the books. The inn is said to still be the home to George Keating who occasionally makes his kind presence known.

A paranormal group conducted a brief investigation at the inn and recorded a few unusual EVPs in recent years. I was unable to get in contact with Ben or Doug while I was out west, but be sure to stop in for a stay and ask them about their resident spirit. For those of you who aren't quite able to spring for a vacation, here's a little nighttime video of the interior:

Paradise for the Dead...

It felt wonderful last night to take a bit of time and explore the history of my new city of residence, San Diego. From an outsider's perspective there is quite a big absence of historical buildings in most neighborhoods here. Like most cities in the United States, the old haunts of past citizens are often lost to what is new and thriving in the present day. But all history is not lost to San Diegans. Scattered around the town and suburbs are little hints of the past... and possibly a few ghosts.

The sad part about this little southwestern paradise is its haunted legends. Don't get me wrong; some nationally famous ghost stories can be found between the canyons and the coast. Yet as is often the case, it's the same stories told and retold. People travel to Whaley House or Hotel del Coronado to stir up a few spirits. We fall in the trap of believing that history is limited to what we know and that with which we are familiar. Yet every place has hundreds--no, thousands--of years or past events buried below the grass and sand. A neighborhood may have been settled within the past century, yet even 100 years of life can provide fascinating stories.

I am once more digging up the bizarre past and interesting ghost stories forgotten by the mass media. And perhaps a few might make it into a sequel of Queer Hauntings (if I find the time and energy to tackle it). A former cemetery turned into a park, an old suspension bridge with perhaps a specter roaming the planks, haunted businesses and inns are but a few of the stories just beginning to be told here on the West Coast. My efforts at finding these new, undiscovered spots have just begun. At this point, the future of my life on the opposite end of the country is uncertain, as is the amount of time I shall stay. But as long as I'm in this new place, there are ghosts to find, stories to tell, and a wealth of past history to share with the world.

At New Journey's End... Or Is It Just Beginning...

It's been one whole month. How is that possible? It seems like just a week ago I was preparing for another life adventure. Slowly, people approached me, wanting to know the details of my "to-be-announced" changes and destination. Next thing I knew, I was there and trying to adjust to a new life in a new environment. And now, I have a day off and enough energy to fill you readers in on my life as it all changed.

Most people have known for years I haven't been very happy in Ohio. I never hid that fact. And after my adventurous 2009 it was a challenge to return to the mundane world in which I lived. I needed something new in a place where I could broaden my horizons. And an offer was tossed in my direction... so (not wanting to be a hypocrite and tell people to live life to its fullest yet myself stay in a safe nowhere land) I decided to jump... and worry about the water in the pool afterward.

After an insane few weeks of packing, cleaning, deciding what to do and what to bring, etc. I boarded Amtrak in Cleveland in the wee hours of April 16th. At 7:15 AM on April 18th (after an interesting journey with amusing fellow passengers) I found myself alone at Union Station in downtown Los Angeles, California waiting for a ride from the man would soon become one of my roommates. It was surreal stepping out into the summer-like weather, seeing Bird of Paradise blooming beneath palms and the buildings stretching out before me. From there it was a long car ride to my first shower in days at my new residence in San Diego, California. While it's temporary, the city may or may not be... depending on so many factors.

For the past two weeks I've been learning my new whereabouts. The adjustment to southern California was far easier than I had expected. Aside from a few moments of missing so many people I left back home, it's been a pleasant experience. Of course, there are the occasional glitches and annoyances as is customary in any place in the world. But it's a learning experience. No huge leap is a cake walk. And no adventure comes without some rough moments.

I've talked to wonderful people, made a couple friends through work and exploration, and seen beautiful places worthy of a few photographs. And best of all, I stood outside Villa Montezuma (one of the places I wrote about in Queer Hauntings) and for the first time had a chance to see with my own eyes the very place I had researched so many months ago. There are more haunted spots to see, explore, and learn about yet my time isn't all free. But eventually, I will be posting more here as I find the spooks and gay haunts of my temporary (?) Pacific Coast home.

That being said, I am alive and (reasonably) well. Lonely at times, impoverished always, but well. And all the while doing my best to keep in high spirits... perhaps even literally.

In the Spirit of Giving...

This is the season of giving. While we all appreciate ribbon-adorned packages beneath a shimmering Christmas tree, there are many other ways of giving heartfelt presents. If you're looking for a positive way to give and make a difference, I ask those who are able to pass along the gift of charity to help save a piece of queer paranormal history.

The historic Villa Montezuma in San Diego is an incredible piece of Queen Anne architecture. For a brief time, it was home to pianist, author, and medium Jesse Shepherd who still haunts the dwelling to this very day. Built in 1887, the structure suffered damage in a fire in 1986 and its foundation needs repairs. A non-profit organization, Friends of Villa Montezuma, has worked tirelessly since the 1970s to renovate the structure and return it to its former glory.

Structural concerns have closed the home to tours, though the society hopes it isn't permanent. While I'm sure they do appreciate gracious, larger donations, they gladly accept whatever the public can offer. In these troubling economic times, our pockets are lighter, but the same applies to non-profit organizations. Without a helpful hand, so much of our history will disappear from the landscape. The past is more fragile than you may think.

If you feel this house is worth saving, you can make a donation or become a sponsor for a restoration project. It can be as simple as becoming a member or, if you live in the San Diego area, you can donate your time and aid the society at events.

And remember: not all presents can be bound by bows. Sometimes the best benefactions are those which warm the soul and come without benefit of reciprocation.