I arrived at WUZZ studios in Meadville, Pennsylvania at 6:30 a.m. for a pre-arranged radio interview, and was greeted rather rudely by Rockin’ Rich, who said no one told HIM about our little chat. He couldn’t fit me in his morning show. I said I was there to promote the comedy shows at Hotel Conneaut, the booker, Benny Baker, called you about this, and a weird smile crept over his face. “Wait, Hotel Conneaut?” he said. “Are you sure?” After a brief, hushed conversation between ‘Rockin’ Rich’ and his sidekick, ‘Taint’, the interview was back on. We exchanged pleasantries on the air and he told me they were unaware of a Comedy Night at the Hotel Conneaut, seeing as it was being renovated, aaaaaaaaaaaand it was HAUNTED. I said, “Haunted, you say?” and he replied, “Yes, famously haunted.” The radio guys told me, legend has it, that a woman named Elizabeth died in a fire in the hotel’s bridal suite on her wedding night and took up permanent residency in the hotel’s peeling, antiquated halls. Apparently, many people have reported seeing her and make pilgrimages to this place.
Rich and Taint went on to tell me about a High School kid who drowned in the lake, a butcher knife wielding chef, and other spooky activity. The Conneaut Hotel was featured on A&E’s “Paranormal State” and even the lobby bar is named, Elizabeth’s Spirits”, after it’s most famous ghostly resident.
Creepy old hotel, abandoned amusement park, paranormal activity, charred newlyweds, zombie chef, moldy teen, superstitious me, and Stand-up Comedy. Yeah, Perfect! Now, I’m going to be scared sleepless the whole night, trying to get some shuteye with one foot in the bed and one on the floor.
The comedy show was surprisingly well attended, fun, and I brazenly included Elizabeth, the ghost, in a couple of improvised songs Well, I shouldn’t have done that. According to the hotel manager, Elizabeth doesn’t like being talked about. His exact words were, “It pisses her off.” Well, dip me in Psychomagnatheric Ectoplasm and call me a pussy. now, I’m officially scared. How the hell am I ever going to get to sleep?
I made it through the night, dozed off for like a half an hour, kept looking for dead Elizabeth and the deceased chef under my bed, and then when I finally fell asleep, someone knocked on my hotel room door. I was too terrified to talk or move and thought, “What time is it?” It was 6 a.m.! In a cracking teenage voice, a boy announced that he was with housekeeping, and did I need anything? I opened the door to find a young man, about 16 years old, shivering, with blue lips, wet hair, a whistle around his neck, and he was wearing an old fashioned swimsuit. An Old—Fashioned—Swimsuit. Zoinks, Scoob! He asked me if I wanted any towels, and I said, “No, but you look like you could use one.” He didn’t even crack a smile and just floated away. I thought for a moment, “That’s the kid that drowned in Lake Conneaut, way back in the 1920s, and he’s come back from his watery grave!”
I ran like a drunk coed down to the front desk and asked the disinterested Millennial if they employed a wet young kid dressed in an old fashioned swimsuit, with a whistle around his neck, to clean their rooms, because, if they don’t… I JUST SAW A GHOST! The clerk said nothing… and just then, the lake drenched boy appeared, and the clerk said, “Yeah, that’s John, he’s on the High School Swim Team and before work he does laps around the lake. The whole team wears those vintage suits and he has the whistle in case he gets in trouble out on the lake.” I said to my housekeeper, John, “I’ll take that towel now, I’m going to need it to clean my pants.”
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