Lore - Episode 123: Unnoticed

Episode Date: September 16, 2019

Home might very well be what you make it, but it’s not always about beautiful decorations and comfortable furnishings. Sometimes the places we live take on elements of our own personality. Even after we’ve moved on, those pieces remain behind, like echoes of another time—echoes that can still be felt today. ——————— Lore Resources: Episode Music: lorepodcast.com/music Episode Sources: lorepodcast.com/sources Lore News: www.theworldoflore.com/now Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.com Access premium content!: https://www.lorepodcast.com/support See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

She was a legend of the silver screen. Even today, almost 60 years after her death, she still holds a special place in the minds of millions of people across the world. Ask anyone you know and they'll recognize her name. And how could they not? Marilyn Monroe is practically unforgettable. But what most people have forgotten is just how important one particular building was to her career. The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel was already an institution when she first arrived, having played host to the elite stars of the 30s and 40s. So when a young model named Norma Jean needed a place to stay and work, the Roosevelt made a lot of sense. Marilyn Monroe lived at the Roosevelt for over two years, even meeting the playwright

Arthur Miller, her future husband, during her stay there. So it's no wonder that even today, guests of the hotel occasionally claim to have seen the famous actress in the building. In a lot of ways, the place was like a second home to her. So why would she ever want to leave? Hotels are funny that way. Not the franchise cookie cutter conference centers that we tend to see along the highways of our cities. I'm talking about the Old Guard, a mass of resorts built in another era by people of power to serve as both a business and a home. The Bellevue Builtmore Hotel in Florida, the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, even the original Waldorf Astoria in New York City. Each of these destination resorts burned bright for a while,

drawing the wealthy elite to their attractive flames. But most of them eventually faded away, taking their secrets and stories with them. And while a handful have survived the changes of the last century, few seem to have held on to the magic of the Gilded Age, like one particular jewel of New England. And I'd like to take you there. But be warned, because while this hotel has played host to the best and brightest over the years, tragedy has also passed through its doors. And if the stories are true, it hasn't checked out. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is Lore. Joseph wasn't born into money, or as part of some lofty social circle. He wasn't

even born near that crowd. No, when he came into the world in 1840, it was in the small capital of New Hampshire, the city of Concord. But don't let his humble beginnings fool you. Before his work was done, Joseph would leave his mark on the pages of history. Around the age of 20, he took an interest in a mineral known as anthracite. It's the most pure and energy-rich type of coal there is, making it the most valuable of them all. And in an era that would see incredible fortunes built by industries that use steel, everyone needed a good fuel to smelt it. A decade later, Joseph was one of the wealthiest men in the country. He was the sort of gilded

age cast member who might be referred to as a robber baron, managing his empire of coal mines and railroads from his home in New York City. But he was the sort of man who couldn't forget his birthplace. And honestly, if you've ever driven through the mountains of New Hampshire, you can understand why. In 1881, he returned to his home state to buy a massive 10,000-acre tract of land near New Hampshire's tallest mountain, Mount Washington. Later that same year, he and a partner also purchased a resort nearby, the Mount Pleasant House, giving him and his circle of friends a place to stay in the north, while earning an income from others who wished to stay there as well. But the resort wasn't quite perfect enough for him when he bought it,

so changes were made. Simple things were added, like tennis courts and a pump house for the water system, but more complex projects followed. An entire new story was added to the resort, and then a bowling alley was constructed inside. The property gained a blacksmith shop, a golf course, and a private lake. Clearly, Joseph had a vision, and he wasn't afraid to spend his money making that a reality. In the early 1890s, Joseph was submarine at his resort when he encountered a woman he had never met before. Carolyn was the daughter of a butcher from Waltham, Massachusetts, and their family had been staying near Mount Pleasant, providing cuts of meat for another of the resorts there. And Joseph fell in love.

There were complications, though. He was 52, and she was only 25. He was one of the richest men in the nation, and she was the poor daughter of a middle-class butcher. But after spending time with him on his yacht in Boston Harbor, Carolyn set all those differences aside. Love is love, after all. Culture and rules be damned. And by 1894, the pair were married. They settled into a blissful life together, traveling the world and spending their time at the various homes that Joseph owned. But their hearts always brought them back to New Hampshire. So in the late 1890s, the pair began plans for a new project, a resort that would make the Mount Pleasant house look like a starter home, a practice run for something bigger and

more grand than they could ever have imagined. They started by hiring architect Charles Ailing Gifford, who set to work taking their vision and creating a roadmap to reality. It would be built in the Spanish Renaissance style that had become popular at the time, with a bright red rooftop that hovered over a white structure, complete with large turrets spread across its length. It wasn't cheap to build though, that's for sure. In modern American dollars, the hotel cost roughly 50 million from start to finish. But you can see where that money went when you look at the list of details about the hotel. There is over 200,000 square feet of wood flooring throughout the building and over 10 miles of pipes. And all of that was topped by over 50,000

square feet of roofing tin. When completed, it became the largest wooden structure in all of New England. A famous friend even helped put it all together too. Thomas Edison traveled to the site to oversee the installation of nearly 21 miles of electrical wiring, a modern technology that few other resorts at the time could boast. And with three separate train stations in nearby Brentonwood, there was a steady flow of visitors to come and enjoy it. The project wasn't without its critics, of course. Many thought that the White Mountains of New Hampshire were too out of the way for most tourists to travel, and that it would be a waste of money to build something so large and extravagant in such a remote place. But Joseph Stickney disagreed, and when the doors opened in 1902,

the hotel's success proved him right. But Joseph wouldn't have a chance to enjoy much of that victory. Just a year after the hotel opened, he passed away from a massive stroke while at his Fifth Avenue home in New York City. A year before, so many of his famous wealthy friends had gathered for the hotel's grand opening. Now they were forced to reunite under darker circumstances. When the funeral was over and the grave had been filled, Carol and Stickney found herself alone. The couple had no children, and without her true love and best friend, she was left to wander the halls of their Mount Washington hotel without him. Eventually, she built a chapel on the hotel property in honor of Joseph,

and then set about taking the reins and keeping the business running. She was wounded, yes, but she would survive. After all, sometimes the best way to honor the past is to move forward into the future. And that's exactly what Carol and Stickney did. And because of that, the world would never be the same. Carol and Stickney found herself on the throne of a magic kingdom. The hotel had its own electric plant, which helped power amenities such as refrigeration equipment, an elevator, and lights throughout the hotel. The property around the building was crisscrossed with bridal paths, wagon trails, an artificial lake, along with a private golf course designed by Donald Ross,

whose other projects include the legendary Pinehurst No. 2 in North Carolina. And Caroline presided over it all. The guests loved her, and she was a constant, elegant presence in the hotel. When she arrived for dinner each night, she always made sure she was the best dressed and the last to enter the dining room, so as to be the center of attention. As the owner and manager of the entire facility, she earned that right. But she didn't spend all of her time in New Hampshire. She served for a time as a Red Cross nurse in Europe, volunteering not just her charitable donations, but also her hands and care. She even received the honor of a gold medal of reconnaissance by the French government.

And it also provided her the opportunity to meet her second husband, Prince Amon du Fossigny Lusange, the great-grandson of King Charles X. It was a marriage that pulled her away from America for most of the time. But every summer, she would return to her Mount Washington hotel and preside over it as The Princess. She wasn't the only royalty to show up there, though. Over the years, other illustrious guests included Princess Margaret, John D. Rockefeller, Joan Crawford, Bob Hope, Alfred Hitchcock, and baseball legend Babe Ruth. A number of U.S. presidents also stayed there, including Woodrow Wilson, Warren Harding, and William Howard Taft. But it seemed the tragedy was never far from Caroline. In 1922, just nine years after marrying the prince, he suddenly

passed away, leaving her alone with her fortune and the expansive hotel. And with her connection to France severed by the death, she permanently moved back to America, becoming a more regular fixture at the hotel than ever before. It's said that although she had a private dining table in her personal suite, she reserved a place at the table among the guests every single night. To this day, her suite contains all her original furniture and is available to guests as Room 314. The dining table, though, has been moved elsewhere. Over the years to come, Caroline did her best to guide the hotel through a period of decline. It wasn't necessarily her fault, but more a product of her day. The general public was less and less interested in the grand resorts of the Gilded Age and more

interested in modern advancements like the automobile and a growing network of highways across the country. And then of course, the Great Depression arrived like a wildfire, ravaging everything in its path. Between the economic nightmare that had arrived and the Second World War that followed it, the hotel became too costly to keep open. The doors were closed to guests in 1942. But it wasn't necessarily the end, because what happened next changed the world forever. Two years after the hotel was shut down, a group of representatives from the Allied countries of Europe went looking for a safe place to hold a gathering. Their goal was to plan what came next once the war was won. And they decided upon the Mount Washington Hotel as that place.

In the summer of 1944, delegates from 44 countries arrived for what would become a deeply significant economic summit. The outcome of those meetings established the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund, and revived the global economy. Today it is referred to as the Bretton Woods Agreement, and all of the paperwork was signed on Princess Caroline's dining room table. Sadly though, she wasn't there to witness it, having passed away eight years earlier in 1936. Her nephew inherited the hotel and tried running the business for a number of years, but eventually had to admit defeat, selling it to a firm in Boston. The Mount Washington Hotel was the last of the Grand Resorts, changing hands from owner

to owner as the years passed by. But no matter whose name was on the deed or where the paychecks came from, it was hard to deny the legacy of Princess Caroline. Even today, her influence and presence can still be felt. But despite how romantic that sounds, it hasn't always been a good thing. Some people think that the hauntings are intentional. Not that they believe it's all a hoax, but that there's something about the hotel that keeps the spirits trapped there. If that's the sort of thing you believe in, Mount Washington Hotel might be the place for you. One legend says that the Italian craftsmen who were hired to construct the hotel brought a bit of their old world superstitions with them. In an effort to ward off ghosts,

it's said that these builders added complexity and variety to the hotel's design, such as staircases with unusual non-matching numbers of steps. It was all done with the goal of confusing the spirits and keeping them out. Instead, some say it backfired, trapping them inside the hotel. And if the sightings around the hotel are any indication, that might very well be true. More than a few guests have seen the figure of a woman who seems to step right into nearby walls before vanishing. Others have caught a glimpse of a ghostly father and daughter in the lobby, but when they've turned back to look again, the pair are gone. One former employee at the hotel even reported an entire room full of ghosts.

Early in the season, when guests were less frequent, this member of the staff claims that while making his morning rounds through the hotel, he passed by the grand ballroom. But rather than find it empty as he expected, the room was filled with scores of people, all milling about and dancing, while dressed in old-fashioned clothing. Some guests have even heard unexplainable noises. A common report is the sound of a baby crying inside the empty ballroom, while a few have even heard the telltale sounds of laughing children running through the halls. When the guests have called the front desk to report the noises,

they've been told that no children were in the hotel at the time. And then, of course, there are the tragic stories that feed the sightings. In 1907, a wealthy businessman named Daniel Willis James passed away in the hotel after suffering a heart attack. And then, almost 10 years to the day after his death, another guest died of internal bleeding. But if all the guests to check in and never leave, the most famous is also the most obvious, Princess Carolyn herself. If you remember from earlier, Carolyn always had a knack for showing up to dinner in the best, most elegant dress of the night, standing out above all her other guests.

But it wasn't by chance. You see, a small balcony overlooks the main dining room, with a curtain hung across it. And that's where Carolyn would stand before dinner, taking in the competition, before heading back to her room to put on the winning dress. And that's one of the places where modern guests have caught a glimpse of her, peeking out from behind that curtain, an elegant woman dressed in a Victorian gown. Many other sightings have happened in random hallways throughout the hotel. But the vast majority of reports come from one place, room 314, which served as Carolyn's private residence when she was at the hotel. And if the stories are true, she might not have moved out.

Guests have entered room 314 to find a woman sitting on the end of the bed, brushing her hair, while others have heard a gentle tapping on the door, only to find the hallway empty when they opened it. In fact, enough unusual activity has happened in that room that in 2008, the hotel brought the Atlantic Paranormal Society, otherwise known as TAPS, from the television show Ghost Hunters, to do their own investigating. TAPS member Steve Gonzalez confirmed that the hotel is a hauntingly beautiful place, and one of his favorite investigation sites. For full disclosure, Steve is a friend, and when I reached out to him for his impression of the hotel, he didn't need any coaxing to express just how real and unusual

his experiences there have been. He and the others witnessed quite a lot during their stay in the hotel, but one event stands out above all the others. During their overnight investigation, the team set up a recording device inside room 314, hoping for a sign that they were not alone in the space, and it wasn't long before they got their answer. Literally. Calling out to the room, one of the TAPS members asked the simple question, Princess Carolyn, are you here? And I'll be honest, that's not the sort of thing I personally would do because I'm just not sure how effective it would be, but others swear by it, and I'm not one to dismiss the personal experiences of others so lightly. What they captured was astonishing.

Their simple question was met with a moment of silence, and that a faint voice could be heard from somewhere in the room. What did it say? Of course I'm here, the voice replied. Where are you? Home is where the heart is, but it's so much more than that, isn't it? Home is where we let down our guard and take on new experiences, where we become vulnerable and relaxed, where we build hopes and dreams and suffer through

unexpected pain and sorrow. We put down roots, and those roots inject a little bit of us into the places we call home. Perhaps it's not a coincidence that the most common word to pair with haunted is house, because it's in those places of trust and vulnerability that we can often experience the most pain. And pain, as we all know, tends to linger, as do the stories about it. So when countless people begin to consider a building their second home, returning year after year despite the ups and downs of life, it's no wonder that they leave a bit of themselves behind. Today, the Mount Washington Hotel stands as one of the last great gilded age resorts.

Much like the Stanley Hotel in Colorado, Mount Washington is a relic from another time, a reminder of the ambition and wealth of the people who built it. But some of the modern tales of unexplainable sightings and mysterious events have left the impression that not all of the former residents are entirely happy. And some people think they know why. To explain it, I need to tell you another story, one set elsewhere in New Hampshire. You see, in April of 1897, a man named Joseph Kelly walked into the Great Falls National Bank in the town of Somersworth, and he set events in motion that had dark consequences. Kelly was just 24 at the time, but was already deeply in debt and desperate for a way out of

his financial mess, which is why he was wearing a fake mustache and beard when he approached one of the teller windows. In his pocket was a loaded revolver, and he was ready to use it. Pretending to be a normal customer, Kelly asked the teller for some stamps, and the man behind the counter nodded politely and told him he would be glad to help. The stamps though were kept in the cashier's office, so the teller told Kelly to wait there while he went to retrieve them. Kelly didn't listen though. The moment the teller turned and walked toward the other room, Kelly quietly followed him. It was only once both men were standing in the cashier office that Kelly revealed himself and then slammed the door shut behind him. The teller shouted for help,

but Kelly struck the man over the head with a small club. When the other man fell to the floor, Kelly leaned over and cut his throat. He took the money he came for and managed to make his escape, boarding a train that was bound for Montreal. But crimes like that have a way of catching up with you. When they found Kelly, he was hiding out in a brothel, dressed in women's clothing like Val Kilmer's character Mad Martigan in Willow. Soon enough, he was back in New Hampshire, where he stood trial for his crimes in the town of Dover. He spent the next 30 years of his life in prison. The reason why I'm telling you this story is because of the bank teller's name, Joseph Stickney. Not, of course, the same Joseph Stickney who made a fortune in the coal industry

and then used some of it to build the Mount Washington Hotel. Just a random stranger with exactly the same name. A stranger whose tragic ending put him firmly on the public record. Many years later, an artist was commissioned to create two paintings for the hotel, one of Princess Carolyn and the other of her first husband, Joseph Stickney. But when the artist went looking for photographs or sketches to base his paintings on, he grabbed an image of the wrong Joseph Stickney, the murder victim, not the coal magnate. And no one noticed. Today, if you visit the Mount Washington Hotel, make sure you look around the lobby for the paintings. They're still there, prominently displayed to show every guest who stays there, the faces of

the people who built the place. Which is, of course, a lie. Rather than spend the decade since her death hanging beside her beloved husband, Princess Carolyn has been forced to share the wall with a murder victim she never met. And if that's not a reason to make a little noise from time to time, I can't think of one that is. With all the guests who pass through the doors of the Mount Washington Hotel over the years, it's easy to assume all of the stories worth telling come from inside those gilded walls. But there's one more tale to tell, one that took place outside on the mountain that gave the hotel its name. Stick around after this short sponsor break to hear all about it.

It was supposed to be a simple hiking trip. 23-year-old Lizzie had traveled with her cousin and uncle from the town of Kennebunk on the coast of Maine. When they reached Mount Washington in mid-September of 1855, they put their plans together. It would be a trip that they would never forget. The trio found lodging in the Glen House, a newly renovated farmhouse that now served as a hotel for visitors to the mountain. Their plan was to wake up and begin the long hike up to the summit, and then spend the night in the small lodge there called the Tiptop House. But if there's one place in New England where you can't depend on the weather, it's Mount Washington. The morning of the hike arrived with rain and fog, and Lizzie's uncle George called off their

plans. I don't know if they had the luxury of waiting a day or if the weather brought utter disappointment to them, but it seemed as if the hike would not happen as planned. And then, by mid-morning, the weather broke and the trio changed their minds. Mount Washington is known for harsh, unpredictable weather. It's a small mountain, but due to its location and shape, it boasts some of the most brutal winds in the world. I don't know who holds the record today, but in 1934, the weather station there recorded winds in excess of 230 miles per hour. And because you can never predict when that sort of thing might happen, you need to be prepared for anything. But Lizzie and the others were far from prepared.

They began their hike by following the rough carriage road that led to the summit, but it was under construction and difficult to navigate quickly. So by the time the sun was setting, they were still a good distance from the top. Not that they would know, though. They had never hiked the mountain before, and the clouds were low enough that visibility had become an issue. So they would reach a level spot, think that it was the summit, and then discover that the climb picked back up somewhere farther into the clouds. Over and over, they were teased into believing their climb was nearly finished. Which is why they ended up standing on a frigid mountainside in the dark as biting winds tore at their simple Victorian clothing.

Lizzie's uncle George decided that they needed shelter from the wind, so he told the two young women to lie down while he constructed a low wall to allow them some warmth. But even that took a good long while. George would later write that he finally completed the windbreak around 10 p.m. Tired and cold, he settled in behind it, placing himself between his daughter Lucy and his niece Lizzie. Lucy acknowledged his arrival, but Lizzie didn't move a muscle. Just to make sure she was all right, he reached out and touched her hand. It was ice cold. Panic washed over George and he moved to his knees and shook his niece, trying to wake her up, but it was no use. At some point between beginning construction on the wall and its completion, poor Lizzie Bourne had passed away.

Many suspect exposure, which would make a lot of sense, but some have even suggested a heart attack. Trapped in the dark on the side of a mountain, George and Lucy did the only thing they could. They huddled together and waited for the light of morning to come and rescue them. And when it did, they discovered the bittersweet truth of their journey, that they had been within view of the tip-top house all along. Lizzie was carried down the mountain in a small wooden box, but her story has never fully left the summit. Even today, there's a small pile of stones with a marker set on top, just to the side of the railway track that brings visitors up and down the mountain. But if you don't think reading her name and epitaph on that white sign is enough,

there are other stories that keep her memory alive. There are reports from visitors to the summit who have claimed to see the ghostly figure of a young woman hovering near the pile of rocks. They say the vision becomes more and more clear as the anniversary of her death approaches. And according to other stories, at least one group of brave hikers attempted to get a little closer. It said that they arrived at her monument after dark, just as she would have done over a century and a half ago. After sitting down around the stones, the clouds moved in and cut off most of the moonlight. After spending some time chatting, the group climbed back up to their feet, ready to reach the summit and find warmth. And that was when one of the men screamed in terror,

his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. Everyone turned to him and found him staring at the pile of stones. There, a figure was rising from inside the monument, her image glowing softly in the fog. They say she looks sad and that the wind still ripped at her clothing, even though it had done its cruel work on her so long before. Then, the ghostly woman pointed in the direction of the summit and then slowly collapsed to her knees as if giving up on her journey. A moment later, she disappeared. Lizzie Bourne was not the first to die a tragic death on the way to the top of Mount Washington, and she would sadly not be the last. But over the years that people have been visiting the summit,

few other stories have held on with such power and tenacity. It seems that no matter how windy it gets up there on the mountain, Lizzie Bourne's memory can never be blown away. This episode of Lore was written and produced by me, Aaron Mankey, with research by Robin Mineter and music by Chad Lawson. And of course, Lore is much more than just a podcast. There's the book series available in bookstores and online, and two seasons of the television show on Amazon Prime Video. Check them both out if you want more lore in your life. And I also make two other podcasts as well, Aaron Mankey's Cabinet of Curiosities and Unobscured, and I think you'd enjoy both of them. Each one explores other areas of our dark history, ranging from bite-sized episodes

to season-long dives into a single topic. And you can learn more about both of those shows and everything else going on all over in one central place, theworldoflore.com. And lastly, you can follow the show on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. Just search for Lore Podcast, all one word, and then click that follow button. And when you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.