Halloween Haunts: Cinnamon Sugar and Grave Dust: Musings of a Writer in San Diego’s Old Town

Halloween Haunts: Cinnamon Sugar and Grave Dust: Musings of a Writer in San Diego’s Old Town

By Kathryn Blanche

“The oldest town in California,” touted the sign posted on the dust-coated message board of the El Campo Santo Cemetery.

I wandered through the grave markers, dust swirling around my boots. My friend Kaylee kept pace beside me. Always up for an adventure, Kaylee agreed to join me in Old Town this evening to find a specific gravesite.

“I think this is it.” Littered in seashells, bracelets, and other trinkets, it stood out from the others.

Kaylee wrinkled her nose at a sticker of a cartoon on the marker. “Isn’t this vandalization?”

It was odd the caretakers would allow this. Flowers were one thing, but stickers? This was the mystery that drew me back to the cemetery.

Anita Gillis: A little girl was painted on the white cross.

We double and triple-checked, but there was no record of Anita Gillis.

“Why would there be a marker without a record?” Kaylee asked me.

“I’m not sure.”

Another dead end.

We walked along the bustling streets and toward the heart of Old Town. We passed the notoriously haunted Whalley House, an old, stately building with prominent columns that overlooked the street. The sign proclaimed it to be the most haunted house in the U.S.

Sunset faded to twilight as we passed the old shops and mission. In the distance, the cheerful music and warm glow of lights from a courtyard beckoned in the gloom. My stomach grumbled impatiently as I thought of the restaurant inside.

I paused before a sign for a haunted tour. A man stood beside it.

I exchanged a glance with Kaylee, then strode up to the man. “Excuse me, you’re the tour guide, right? I have a question about a grave up the street.”

“Which one?”

“Anita Gillis.”

He made a face. “Other tours say her ghost haunts the grave and that offerings bring luck. Nothing’s there, though. Not ghosts. Trust me, I’ve been investigating here for twelve years. If you’re looking for ghosts, you should check out the hotel.”

“The Cosmopolitan Hotel?”

He nodded.

“And I take it your tour stops there?”

He nodded and passed me a flyer.

Kaylee watched me eagerly. “We should do it.”

“After dinner?”

She agreed.

I thanked him before tucking the flyer in my bag. Why was he so convinced the old hotel was haunted? The graveyard might not be as mysterious as I thought, but now I had another mystery.

We left the guide to his tour group and entered the gates of the courtyard.

Fiesta de Reyes was a fixture of Old Town. It was an old courtyard and surrounded by tiny shops. Dia de los Muertos was just around the corner, and above us towered massive skeletons dressed in vibrant gowns, their skulls painted with colorful details. A beautiful sculpture of La Catrina in her wide-brimmed hat was perched atop a dais covered in marigolds. Beside it, a Flamenco Guitarist and a lively band played while people danced.

We headed to the restaurant in the back. As we sipped margaritas and waited for our food, I thought about the paranormal investigator and what we had discovered about the ghosts of Old Town thus far.

“Should we try to catch the next tour?” Kaylee asked.

“Think so. I’m curious about the hotel now.”

Our conversation turned to the upcoming festivities of October and the events we hoped to attend. I have been fascinated with the paranormal and supernatural for most of my life. Naturally, Halloween has always been my favorite time of year, but as a writer of dystopian fantasy, I did not limit my love of all things spooky to October alone.

After dinner, we wandered through the shops. We passed a churro stand, and the warm scent of cinnamon sugar wafted out to greet us. I wistfully watched a man dunk his churro in a cup of chocolate sauce and regretted eating such a large dinner. But there was a chill in the air, so we compromised and grabbed cups of hot cocoa from a chocolate shop. I took a sip. It was divine—dark, rich, and herbal. It helped to chase away the cold.

We returned to the sign for the tour, but the paranormal investigator was nowhere to be found. After a few minutes, I pulled his flyer out of my pocket. There was a phone number.

Hello! I spoke to you earlier about the graveyard. Do you have a 9 PM tour tonight?

The message showed it was read within a few seconds.

I don’t have a tour scheduled at 9 PM tonight.

My heart sank. Perhaps we would have to return another night.

Another message popped up: But I’m at The Cosmopolitan.

Would you mind if we stop by and ask you some questions? I’m a writer.

Sure.

I glanced up at Kaylee. “He’s at the hotel. We can meet him there.”

Kaylee’s eyes lit up.

We followed the dirt path to where the old two-story hotel rose up on the corner. The old wooden treads creaked under our feet as we climbed the stairs, and I noticed Kaylee fidgeting with her engagement ring.

The door opened, and the paranormal investigator beckoned us inside. We followed him into the hotel’s bar. It was dark, and the only source of light was the exit sign. It cast an eerie green glow over us. My eyes strained to see the man’s face.

Our mysterious paranormal investigator was Michael Brown from San Diego Ghost Tours. He told us about his first experience at the hotel when he heard footsteps on the empty balcony. Since then, he spent many years conducting investigations and leading tours through the state park.

From time to time, he paused. I chalked it up to the tourist peering through the windows. But then he mentioned something about multiple spirits being present.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“It’s sort of acquired. It took some time before the spirits got used to me, and now I’m able to tell when they’re nearby. Do you want to try an experiment?”

“Sure.” I felt skeptical but open-minded.

He directed me to stand in a particular spot. “Now raise your left hand straight up and sweep forward and back.”

Nothing. I tried sweeping a little further. I jumped. It felt like I touched an old strand of a spiderweb. But when I continued to feel around, I could not feel anything cold like he described.

Michael asked Kaylee if she would like to try.

She tensed up and shook her head vigorously. “N-no thank you!”

“Are you sure? There’s a little girl next to you who would really like to interact. Could she touch the top of your head?”

Kaylee vigorously twisted her engagement ring in circles, thinking. But finally, she nodded.

“Do you feel that on top of your ears?” he asked.

“You mean a burning feeling? I’ve felt that since I entered the hotel!” she stared at him in shock.

He tried another experiment with me, and I felt nothing. But again, Kaylee experienced a sensation—this time a pressure on her shoulders.

“Do you believe they like visitors?” I asked.

“The ghosts? I suppose so. Everything here is friendly. Nothing scary. If you want to be scared, then go to one of these haunted houses the actors do.” He looked wistfully out the window. “You know, people get all excited for Halloween. But it’s just a made-up day. It doesn’t mean anything to the ghosts.”

I shrugged. “I’m not so sure. Even if the date is meaningless to the ghosts, it’s important to people. It gives them a day to think about and remember the dead. The supernatural and unknown, too.”

“Like Dia de los Muertos?”

I nodded.

Kaylee and I left the hotel and stepped back into the night. We sipped our hot cocoa as we walked down the dirt road away from the hotel, the distant sound of music and the sweet scent of churros was carried by the wind.

Death and the unknown are not a part of our everyday lives thanks to modern medicine, yet the primal fear and curiosity remain. There were those, like Kaylee, who liked to glimpse it from time to time. But then there are others who need more than a day, week, or even a month. Others like me—a writer who crafts stories about ghosts, fae, and other supernatural beings. Others who like long walks in cemeteries. And those who delve deeper into the abyss of horror stories to explore what is, what is not, and what might be. As in the wise words of Kevin Wetmore, “We at the HWA are the Halloween People—for us, Halloween is not just a day, but a way of life.”

A special thanks to Michael Brown from San Diego Ghost Tours.