Ghosts of Grand Rapids

Nicole Bray, Robert Du Shane, Julie Rathsack

• Publisher: The History Press
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781626192058
• eBook ISBN: 9781625846747
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: North American History
• Index: History

"Grand Rapids' sinister and spooky past is illuminated . . . examines local hauntings and reveals the truth behind some long told urban legends" ( The Collegiate).
 
Come nose around in the creepier corners of the Grand Rapids of yesteryear. Discover why Hell's Bridge persists as such an oft-told urban legend and what horrific history earned Heritage Hill the title of Michigan's most haunted neighborhood. Mingle with the spooky inhabitants of the Phillips Mansion, Holmdene Manor, San Chez Restaurant and St. Cecilia Music Center. Meet the guests who never quite checked out of the Amway Grand. Read the true stories behind the Michigan Bell Building and the Ada Witch Legend. Nicole Bray, Robert Du Shane and Julie Rathsack illuminate the shadows of local sites you thought you knew.
 
Includes photos!

CHAPTER 1

BRIEF HISTORY OF GRAND RAPIDS

In order to appreciate the haunted side of Grand Rapids, it helps to know just what the land has been through. Grand Rapids has been home to many different people throughout its history. Settlers have long been drawn to the moderate climate, rich soil and vast supply of fresh water.

The first people to settle in this area laid their roots over ten thousand years ago. These settlers were a migratory people who followed the roaming mastodons and mammoths at the end of the last ice age. As the glaciers melted away, the climate started to become more inhabitable. The ice gave way to vast forests containing edible plants, small game and an abundance of fish.

Over 2,500 years ago, the Grand River Valley was occupied by Native Americans known to historians simply as the Mound Builder Indians because of the large mounds they left wherever they settled. The tribe had migrated to the area from the Mississippi River Valley. They traveled through Illinois and settled in Michigan as far north as the Muskegon River. The Mound Builders were a peaceful tribe and survived almost entirely by cultivating the land. Their presence is still evident today by the preserved mounds on the southwest side of Grand Rapids. Local historians theorize that the first major act of violence occurred in this area when another Native American tribe traveled down from the north and exterminated the Mound Builder Indians. Although no one is completely sure which tribe wiped them out, those who have examined Michigan’s earliest written records believe it was the Sioux Indians.

Approximately three hundred years ago, the Ottawa Indians were forced west by the Iroquois and settled along the Grand River’s edge. The Chippewa were just to the north, and the Pottawatomie were just south. These three tribes made up a group called the People of the Three Fires.

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as the Europeans and Americans struggled to control the area, the People of the Three Fires were often forced to choose sides during the battles, all the while trading furs for textiles, metals and other useful goods. In just two generations’ time, control shifted from the French to the British and eventually to the Americans.

During this power struggle, the natives found their once lucrative fur trade becoming more restricted. What started as the open trade system used by the French transitioned to the British licensing system. Finally, the Americans took not only the furs but also the land occupied by the Ottawa Indians. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, the transition from Indian country to United States territory was complete. Between 1821 and 1836, a series of treaties were signed that extinguished the majority of all Indian claims to the land in Michigan. This was unfortunate for the natives as it left much of the state open to be snatched up by the often greedy and land-hungry settlers.

In 1825, Grand Rapids’ first permanent resident, Isaac McCoy, set up a Baptist mission within the area known as the “Rapids of the Grand.” He was soon followed by a Roman Catholic priest named Father Frederic Baraga, who established a Catholic mission nearby.

Other settlers came to the area in search of riches. Two of the best examples of these pioneers were Rix Robinson, an agent of the American Fur Company, and independent fur trader Louis Campau. Both of these men moved to the area in hopes of collecting pelts and opened trading posts to compete for the furs. Louis Campau was the victor and became known to the Ottawa tribe as “the Fox” due to his shrewd trading skills.

Campau had moved from his birthplace in Detroit in 1826 to establish his trading post along the east bank of the Grand River, where he also built a cabin and blacksmith shop. Louis Campau would later become known as the founder of Grand Rapids. His success as a trader allowed him to acquire a small fortune. In 1831, he purchased seventy-two acres from the federal government for ninety dollars. Campau named this village Grand Rapids. It is on this land that the entire downtown business district, bordered by the Grand River, Division Avenue, Fulton Street and Michigan Street, sits today. Not to be outdone, a local land surveyor named Lucius Lyon bought the land to the immediate north of Campau’s land and named it the village of Kent.

The fallout from the feud between Campau and Lyon is still felt by local commuters to this day. Campau, who had an established relationship with the Ottawa tribe, laid out his main street Monroe Avenue along the principal Indian trail that led diagonally from the river to his trading post. Lyon, a surveyor, laid out his streets in the more generally accepted grid style with the streets running in the directions of a typical compass.

Louis Campau was against the two competing villages being connected. To prevent this from happening, he purchased a strip of land that was between the villages and refused to build on it. Eventually, Lyon was able to secure a small “canal” of land from Campau. This street would be appropriately named Canal Street, connecting the village of Kent to Monroe Avenue in Grand Rapids.

When it became evident to Lyon he would be unable to procure more of this coveted strip of land, he decided to get revenge on Campau. He bought a string of plots directly to the north of Campau’s lots that prevented Campau from making any more expansions. Furthermore, it resulted in the modern downtown layout, where roads often meet at odd angles or, in some cases, not at all.

In 1836, the Michigan legislature officially created the Village of Grand Rapids. This new village used both men’s plats. The town was roughly bordered by Hastings Street to the north, Prospect Avenue on the east, Fulton Street on the south and the Grand River to the west. Campau was on the first board of trustees and one of seven men who named Henry C. Smith the village’s first president.

By the time Grand Rapids was incorporated on April 2, 1850, it was well on its way to becoming the furniture city. It already had one furniture factory and several small private shops that created various furniture pieces. The city’s location on the Grand River made it the ideal place to manufacture furniture. Locals were able to use the Grand River to generate power for the factory. Furthermore, the proximity to the river made it easy to float logs from the lush forests located upstream. These forests were an excellent source for both the hard and soft woods needed to support the furniture industry.

By 1857, the city had already grown from approximately four square miles to over ten square miles. Over the next century, the city would continue to thrive. Gypsum mining and furniture factories provided many jobs that brought new people to the area. Hotels and boardinghouses popped up all over the city. Department stores like Steketee’s, founded in 1862, became the city’s retail hub. After an international exhibition in Philadelphia in 1876, the city of Grand Rapids became recognized worldwide as a leader in the production of fine furniture.

Today, Grand Rapids is known as “Furniture City” and is considered the world’s leader in the production of office furniture. It is also recognized as the hometown and final resting place of Gerald R. Ford, the thirty-eighth president of the United States. It is no wonder that a city with such a long history has also given birth to so many ghost stories.

CHAPTER 2

GRAND RAPIDS’ BEST-KNOWN GHOST STORY

Location: Corner of Fountain Street and Division Avenue in Downtown Grand Rapids

The most prevalent ghost legend in our great city would have to be the story of the Michigan Bell Building and of Warren and Virginia Randall. The late Don W. Farrant, the original author of Haunted Houses of Grand Rapids, first introduced the ghostly tale to the public in 1979. Since then, paranormal enthusiasts have continuously looked at the old Michigan Bell Building, which is now the AT&T Building, with an almost unequivocal level of awe and curiosity.

A majority of the citizens who live in Grand Rapids that have heard this story believe it is nothing more than an urban legend. I felt the same way until finding a news article that would forever change my view on the topic.

Let’s begin by recounting the story of this grisly murder/suicide as most of the paranormal world knows it.

LEGEND OF THE WOODEN LEG MURDER

In 1907, Warren Randall and his wife, Virginia, moved from Detroit to Grand Rapids. Warren worked as a brakeman for the Grand Rapids and Indiana Railroad. The couple took up residence in the historical Judd-White House. The dwelling was named for its original owners, Mayor George White and his daughter, Mrs. Charles B. Judd. Both lived in the home shortly after the Civil War. By the turn of the century, the Judd-White House had been made into a rental property; it was during this time that the Warrens moved in.

The three years that the couple spent in this house were filled with turbulence and stress. Believing that his wife was having several affairs with local men, Warren would sometimes turn violent. Neighbors informed the police of such an incident when they saw Warren chase his wife down an alley with a straight razor in his hand. By mid-August of 1910, the couple separated and the former rooming house sat vacant.

On the evening of August 26, perhaps with the idea that the two could talk of reconciliation, Warren asked Virginia to join him for a carriage ride. The couple rented a rig from the Morton House Livery. Unfortunately for Virginia, instead of heading out for a trip filled with romance, he took her back to the house on the corner of Fountain Street and Division Avenue. Warren persuaded her to enter the house, where they wound up in their former bedroom.

Warren’s true intentions on that fateful night will never be known. Perhaps the tragedy began as an intimate escapade that ended disastrously when something sent Warren into a jealous rage. Perhaps Virginia was not interested in Warren’s advances and demanded they leave the house. What transpired in the final moments of this star-crossed couple will never be known. What we do know is, while withering away in madness, Warren decided the best course of action that night was to end his life and the life of his beloved Virginia.

The legend goes that while in the bedroom, he removed his wooden leg and used it to deliver a massive blow to the back of Virginia’s head. With Virginia sprawled out on the bed, blood flowing out of her head and spilling onto the floor, Warren darted through the house, locking all the doors and windows. He then returned to the bedroom, where he locked himself inside and began sealing all the crevices. Once he completed that task, he hastily removed a gas fixture from the wall, allowing the toxic fumes to flow freely into the room, creating his own homemade gas chamber.

Further illustrating his deranged state, Warren attempted suicide by slashing his throat with a straight razor. Ironically, it is believed this was the very razor he used to chase Virginia with several days prior to her murder. The slash to his neck was only superficial. Either Warren was inept with this deadly weapon, or he simply lost his courage while administering what was intended to be a much deeper cut to his throat.

Because the Judd-White House was believed to be vacant, the incident went undiscovered for close to two weeks. Tenants from a neighboring building began to complain about a horrible odor that was making some of them ill. The Department of Health was eventually notified, and two agents were sent to check out the tenants’ claims. The smell only got worse as they approached the building. When the front door was torn down, the men were immediately assaulted by gas fumes mixed with the sickly stench of decomposition.

Inspecting the rest of the house, officials broke into the sealed bedroom and found the horrifying sight of two blackened bodies lying on the bed. Both had been exposed to gas fumes for days, making them unrecognizable. The couple would have gone unidentified if it hadn’t been for Warren’s wooden leg.

The bodies of Warren and Virginia Randall were removed, and the Judd-White House remained vacant for decades, but not before becoming the catalyst for the most peculiar haunting in Grand Rapids’ history.

Dozens of people, with occupations ranging from investigators to journalists, have scoured through decades of records in hopes of finding the truth behind this horrific tale. Looking through census records from 1910, I couldn’t find a Warren or Virginia Randall living in the city of Grand Rapids, there was no employee named Warren Randall with the Grand Rapids and Indiana Railroad Company and the date of the supposed Grand Rapids Press article featured no mention of this macabre incident. It looked as though this fabulous ghost story was nothing more than that—a story.

AT&T Building. Photograph by Robert Du Shane, 2011.

I contacted Gary Eberle, the author who revised the Haunted Houses of Grand Rapids book in 1994. He informed me that when Don W. Farrant sold him all the records and copyright to the book for future publication, there were research records and testimonies backing up every story from the original book—every story except for one: the Michigan Bell Building.

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE LEGEND

The story of the Randalls continued to be a local myth in my mind until the fall of 2010. It was at this time that I came across the missing piece of the puzzle; the evidence to unlock a story that has mystified Michiganders for over one hundred years. It was nothing more than a small newspaper clipping, but it brought chills to think that I had finally found the origin of the now infamous tale. Blatantly obvious was the fact that the names and dates had been changed. This would explain why it had been so difficult for anyone to substantiate the details of this account.

The real story behind the legend began when Warren Rowland traveled from his hometown of Oakland, California, to Grand Rapids, Michigan, with plans to begin a new life. He had a job working as a switchman for the Grand Rapids and Indiana Railroad Company until tragedy struck on December 2, 1907. It was during this night that Warren fell under the wheels of a train, crushing his foot above the ankle. He was brought to Saint Mary’s Hospital, where his lower leg was amputated. The accident left him with a wooden leg and a new, unfulfilling job. Although still employed by the railroad, he was forced to work in the office as a billing clerk.

While living in Michigan, he met a young woman from Detroit named Vashti Perry. The two of them soon married against her parents’ wishes. After they wed, they found it difficult to keep a home for any length of time and resided in many houses throughout the city. Among the many addresses they shared were 146 East Bridge Street and 208 Third Avenue. Eventually, they rented the house at 74 North Division Avenue from C.B. Judd. The house had been vacant since the death of Judd’s mother-in-law in 1907.

Their marriage, according to family members and neighbors, was nothing short of stormy. Mrs. DeWitt, a former neighbor who resided at 86 North Division, told the local police and the Grand Rapids Herald that she frequently heard Mrs. Rowland screaming in the house. Mrs. DeWitt had numerous conversations with Vashti, who confided in her that Warren had threatened to kill her many times. Vashti also revealed that she had plans to leave Warren and open a boardinghouse back in Detroit.

Warren was also unhappy in the marriage, as evidenced by the bill of divorce that his attorney, William B. Brown, filed against Vashti early in 1909. He charged that she was “often in the company of improper associates, drank heavily, and refused to stay home or prepare his meals.”

The following day, Mrs. Rowland filed a cross-motion of divorce through the law offices of Knight & MacAllister. In addition, she requested an injunction to restrain her husband from injuring her, an equivalent to today’s personal protection order (PPO). It was soon clear that her fear of physical retribution was well founded; the day after the injunction was filed, their paths crossed on the street. With a blatant disregard for the court order, Warren knocked her down and kicked her.

Only one week prior to the murder, Warren entered his attorney’s office in a “cheerful frame of mind.” He informed his attorney that he and his wife had worked things out and decided to give the marriage another try. The attorney simply congratulated Warren and sent him on his way, without a single thought to the actual motive behind his sudden intentions of reconciliation. As he reflected on that day, after learning of the Rowlands’ demise, he was quoted in the Grand Rapids Herald as saying, “I suppose they got together to make up that Saturday and had another quarrel in the evening, which resulted fatally.”

On the evening of Saturday, June 26, Warren Rowland and his wife, Vashti Perry-Rowland, rented a buggy from the Morton House Livery. Witnesses that knew of the couple’s troubled marriage reported later to the media that they were stunned to see Vashti agree to a carriage ride with Warren. It was a well-known fact that she was afraid of her husband. Irving Woodworth, who was working at the livery during the time of Rowl...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1. Brief History of Grand Rapids
• 2. Grand Rapids’ Best-Known Ghost Story
• 3. Kent County’s Forgotten Citizens
• 4. Urban Legends
• 5. Phillips Mansion
• 6. Spookiest Neighborhood in Grand Rapids
• 7. Haunted Downtown District
• 8. Saint Cecilia Music Center
• 9. Spirited Residents
• 10. Holmdene Manor
• 11. Strange Algoma Township
• 12. Spirits of a Different Kind
• 13. Lethal Lovers
• Bibliography
• About the Authors