The first time I was in a local historic hotel and bar I had an unusual experience. I went in with an acquaintance who used to work there as a hotel maid. We sat at the bar drinking coffee and talking with the bartender. At a certain point I excused myself and went to the restroom. When I came back, I remarked to 'Suzy' that that was a remarkable painting. She said, Yes, sometimes the owner dressed the waitresses in red and black for that reason. Well, that didn't make sense to me but I let it pass.

Three weeks later I took another acquaintance into the bar with me and we sat at a table and had a glass of wine. When she excused herself to the restroom, I told her to take a look at the painting. When she came back she said there was no painting. I said, Well, there is but when I come back from the restroom I'll tell you where it is.

There was no painting- not even any room for it. And the entrance to the restroom was different. Earlier the restroom was at the end of a long wall- now there were two arches cut in the long wall. Earlier the painting had been opposite the wall on an easel or a low table.

To make a long story short, I checked with both the earlier acquaintance and with the bartender and they knew of no such painting.

In frustration I went home and with color pencils I sketched the picture and took it back to the earlier acquaintance. There, I said, This is what I saw.

I drew two women behind a square table that had a 'pot' of roses on it. The one woman had short, dark and precisely 'finger-waved' hair and she was dressed in a cloak or coat that had a standup scalloped neckline closed with a clasp. She had on a cocked dark hat with either a red feather or a red ribbon drooping over her face. Speaking of her face, she had a small scar in the corner of one lip.

The other woman was dressed for indoors and was wearing a yellow gown with lots of skin showing. She was bright blond, with her hair upswept and piled on her head. She had a long, rather dour face. The blonde woman was much taller than the dark one but the dark one was much cuter.

My acquaintance looked at my picture briefly then said uncomfortably, I think you should put it away now. I said, Why? She said, I can't tell you how often I have heard that blonde described.

On the third floor it has been repeatedly reported that a blonde woman appears down the hall and when she is followed she disappears into a wall or at least doesn't make the corner. When the viewer gets to the corner there is nothing to be seen.

There is a tale that accompanies this that may 'explain' this occurrence but that's another story, involving a bride left alone too long and a jealous husband.

Ebbie