Columbus, Mississippi. This is a strange sort of place, where eras blend into each other and dates are only numbers on a calendar.
In this country, no kings or queens have ever governed. Yet, Chris and I come from an American city where royalty is taken very seriously. Carnival's regal titles make New Orleans seem archaic, in a charming way. Columbus, too, has its own royalty. Grand Dames rule from mansions and some not-so-majestic manors. Perhaps their crowns are unofficial, but we all know who wear them.
One of our actual royals is The Princess Theater. She may be a bit tattered, now. Who wouldn't, at age 83? Still, her nobility is unquestionable.
This matron has witnessed history, both on the inside and outside of her tile lobby. The Princess has stories to tell, and has earned the right to be called a drama queen. Many of her memoirs are reported to be tragic, creating tales of spirits reluctant to leave.
Last weekend, a few brave souls from our area walked her stage and aisles on a very real ghost hunt. Led by Jeff Harris, an experienced paranormal investigator, we quietly traveled her interiors, wishing to meet some inhabitants. Respect is important, here. She deserves it.
The original owner of the theatre, Mr. Ed Kuykendall, is still there, they say. He is often seen in the balcony, wearing a natty suit and fedora. The theatre is his personal progeny. He may never leave.
Not everyone who entered her doors is as endeared to The Princess as Mr. Kuykendall. Eighteen restless spirits are believed to roam her depths; many of them are alleged to be violent.
Perhaps she is jealous of lovely young girls. They seem to suffer more in her darkened interior than others. Stories of stabbing and strangling are only that, just stories. The guide on our tour was truly dramatic, but perhaps not completely accurate.
One particularly bloody tale is of a suicide on her stage, by a distraught actor. A phone call to Ed, the charming son of the original Mr. Kuykendall debunked that story. However, the stage resonates with an atmosphere, creepy and unnerving. That is undeniable. I was last in a small line of ghost hunters. As the others stepped off the stage, the boards behind me echoed with the dull sound of footfalls. I turned to see no one.
All electricity, lights and air conditioning, was turned off. Yet, Monica Adams, and I walked through a cold spot that prickled our spines and coursed through our bodies. The young man with us felt nothing. It must have been a ?girl'' thing.
The first tactic in ghost hunting is to determine a rational explanation. Very few incidents are a real haunting. Many seemingly ghostly experiences are based in fear, leaky air ducts and vents, or merely the creak of an old structure. Lights reflecting from nearby houses, the whistle of a distant train, knowledge of a ghastly past, all these could contribute to perception of earth-bound entities.
Whether you believe, or not, is unimportant. Spooky stories are entertaining, to be sure. However, it's difficult to dismiss the chilling energy inhabiting our Princess. She, and her past, is one of so many things that make Columbus remarkable and uncommon.
From the era of vaudeville to a gathering place for the contemporary ?Goth? kids, The Princess has reigned. The crown she wears may have lost some of its neon sparkle, but it is hers alone. Not even the ghosts can dispose her.
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus two years ago after Hurricane Katrina. E-mail reaches her at adeleelliott@bellsouth.net.
http://www.cdispatch.com/articles/2007/ ... lumn02.txt
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