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Overview
Just beneath the glossy surface of Rockford’s rich heritage lies a dark history of tragedy, a troubled and turbulent past leaving scars that still resonate today. Geraldine Bourbon’s final struggle echoes throughout the farmhouse where her estranged husband pursued her with a pistol from room to room before gently laying her corpse on the bed. The sobs of society darling Carrie Spafford still keep vigil over the family plot of the cemetery where she sowed the heartbreak of her twilight years. From the vengeance of Chief Big Thunder to the Witch of McGregor Road, author Kathi Kresol shares the legends and lore of Rockford’s haunted history.
Includes photos!
“There are reasons why Kathi Kresol believes Rockford is so haunted. The tour guide said there are good ‘conductors’ for the supernatural in the city’s downtown area. These factors include being near a body of water, having limestone in the area and the area having a Native American influence.” —Beloit Daily News
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781439662823 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Arcadia Publishing SC |
| Publication date: | 10/20/2018 |
| Series: | Haunted America |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 147 |
| File size: | 3 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
The Terrible Tragedy of Geraldine Bourbon
My family bought the old farmhouse on School Street in 1988 knowing nothing about the violent incident that had occurred there. This was our first house, and it seemed like our dream home. It was big enough for our four children, had a big yard and was three blocks away from my husband's elderly father.
The sale and the move went so smoothly, it seemed as though it was meant to be. Almost immediately strange things started happening. We would put items down, and they would show up in a totally different area. It was easy to convince ourselves it was the kids moving the items. We had four children under the age of five, and our lives were very busy.
There were certain times it was too much to ignore. The paper towel rack in the kitchen had a habit of emptying by itself. It was always when I placed a new roll on the rack. It would unroll until all the paper was on the floor. The lights would also flicker, and the television would turn on all by itself. This usually happened after everyone was upstairs in bed. We would suddenly be awakened by the noises from the television down on the first floor.
Every once in a while, we would get the feeling of being watched. We knew from the woman we purchased the house from that a family member had died in the house from natural causes. The house was built in 1913, and many families had lived there; we always reasoned that the identity of our ghost was one of the former family members.
We had several pets over the years, and at times, they would behave strangely. They would always seem to watch something over our heads. The cats would hunker down and emit a low growling sound. It was disconcerting to see them react to something we could not see. One of our small dogs seemed especially affected. We had one particular friend, Nathan, whom this dog did not like. Nathan was a teenager who helped us with yard work and whom I tutored while my children were in school. The dog would growl at Nathan and bite his shoes. Once we were sitting in the dining room, and Nathan was getting frustrated because the dog would not leave him alone. The dog kept going under the table and biting his shoes, and Nathan would shake him off and tell him to stop. The dog finally backed off and left the room.
A few minutes went by, and we heard this horrible howling noise. It was coming from the upstairs of the house. There were four bedrooms on the second floor, and the master bedroom had a hook and eye up toward the top of the door to keep the children away from the guns that my husband stored in the closet.
Nathan and I followed the howling and realized it was coming from that room. We unlocked the door, and the dog came rushing out and ran down the stairs. We never solved the mystery of how the dog got locked into that room. Nathan was so shaken by the incident that he left immediately.
I was constantly remodeling the old farmhouse and had problems with the electrical tools. I would be taking a break in another room, and the tools would turn on by themselves. It was frustrating because it would never happen when I was in the room, only when I stepped away for a minute. One time when I was working with a palm sander, I left for a moment, and the tool turned on. By this time, I was getting agitated, so I unplugged it from the wall. I went back into the kitchen, and as soon as I rounded the corner, I heard the sander turn on again. I threw the sander away.
The turning point was an incident with a baby bottle. I ran a daycare in the home, so my youngest child had her name on her bottles to keep them separate from the other children's. I spell her name Aryn (pronounced Erin). One night, I put Aryn in her crib in the room where the two youngest children slept. I gave her a bottle and went back downstairs to finish cleaning up from dinner. A little while later, she started to cry. I went to check on her and noticed the bottle was gone. I looked all over the room for the bottle. I didn't find it, so I went back down the stairs and made her a fresh one. I remember thinking it was odd the way it just disappeared seemingly into thin air.
Life went on, and the children got older. We were still remodeling the house and began the process on the second floor in the room that was the youngest girl's bedroom. It had old wiring, and the plaster had some holes. So we decided to tear the room out completely. I was breaking down the plaster and tearing out the lathe boards. The process was going smoothly but messily when I came across something odd. Behind the plaster and the lathe boards inside the wall was a pink baby bottle. The baby bottle had Aryn's name on it.
After that I couldn't ignore what was happening any longer. I started to research the house. I knew some of the neighbors on the block had lived in their houses for many years. I interviewed them and they told me that someone had been killed in our house. They thought it happened in the summer of 1958. I went to the Rockford Public Library and started to go through the microfilm files for the summer of 1958. I found nothing. I wasn't sure quite what to do, so I decided to start in the beginning of the year, just in case.
I'll never forget the feeling that swept over me when I came to the article telling of Geraldine Bourbon's murder on January 18, 1958. There, on the front page of the newspaper, was my house. The story told of the horrible deaths of Geraldine and Laurence. I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
Geraldine was just an average woman who lived in Rockford during the 1950s. I first came across her name in that newspaper article when I was researching our house on School Street. I immediately noticed a few similarities. We had both lived in the same house, and we were both mothers of small children. We both had family members who were in the armed services; Geraldine was married to an army officer, and my father was in the navy. Both of us had moved around because of this. We both had struggled with issues in our marriages.
There were some differences between us, though. I would leave the house on the West Side of Rockford, and I would live to see twenty-nine years old. Geraldine would do neither.
Geraldine's childhood was easy to trace. She was one of four daughters born to Maxine and Percy Tonnancour. Geraldine was born in Wisconsin in 1929. Their family was close knit, and the other children stayed in proximity to their parents but not Geraldine; she was not content to live in the same small town all her life.
Geraldine married twice. She was very young when she married the first time. They had two children and were not married very long when they divorced. Geraldine's two children stayed with their father in Wisconsin.
Laurence Ray Bourbon's life was not as easy to trace as Geraldine's. He was the only boy in the family; he and his sister, Florence Fay, were twins. For some reason, the family went to St. Louis in 1929, but Florence and Laurence were boarded with another family across the state back in their hometown. There was no reason given for this or information on how long the family was separated.
Laurence and Geraldine met and were married in 1951, when Geraldine was twenty-one. He was in the army, and though he was not traditionally what you would call handsome, his uniform made him attractive. Geraldine must have thought that traveling with her husband would bring the adventure she sought.
By September 1957, the couple had two children and were living in Germany. Laurence was suffering from mental health issues and had a drinking problem. These issues eventually led to his undesirable discharge from the army. The family left Germany and moved to Rockford, where some of Geraldine's family lived. The couple moved into a little apartment on Grant Street and then moved again to Court Street. Laurence started a job in construction, and Geraldine stayed at home with the children. The couple struggled, and these challenges led to issues in the marriage.
Geraldine was close to her sister Arline, and she shared her concerns about her marriage. Geraldine stated that Laurence was violent, and she had become very frightened of him. On January 9, 1958, there was an altercation, and Geraldine was terrified enough to finally leave Laurence. She took the children, filed for divorce and moved in with Arline and her husband, William. Geraldine told the court that Laurence had become increasingly violent, and in his latest attack, he struck not only her but also their four-year-old daughter, Kathleen.
Laurence was apologetic and tried several times to reconcile, but Geraldine remained at her sister and brother-in-law's house on School Street. On January 17, 1958, Laurence tried once again to reconcile by calling Geraldine and begging her to take him back. She again refused.
The two sisters were sitting in the kitchen of the School Street house around eleven o'clock that Friday morning. One of Arline's young sons wanted to go outside to play for a while. Arline bundled him up, and he left the house through the back door. Neither of the women noticed that the boy didn't lock the door as he left.
A few moments later, the peace of the morning was shattered. The door flew open, and Laurence stood there in the doorway, shouting that he was going to "kill her" and waving a gun. Geraldine ran around the corner into the living room. Arline saw her chance to get help and ran next door to the auto body shop.
Thomas Guzzo was the owner of the shop and he stepped out of his office as Arline came inside screaming for help. Guzzo listened to her story and then headed for the phone to call the police.
Arline realized the children were all still in the house and bravely headed back next door to get them to safety. As she left the garage, she looked up to the second-story window to see her sister waving frantically and pounding on the bedroom window. One of Arline's sons was upstairs during the altercation, and she was frantic for his safety. As she hurried to get the other children out of the house, she screamed to him to get to the bathroom and lock the door.
The evidence would show that Laurence initially attacked Geraldine in the living room. Arline's children had scattered and the only witness left was Kathleen, Geraldine's four-year-old daughter. Little Kathleen told police that Laurence was shouting and hitting her mother. Laurence then shot Geraldine in the back of her head. Geraldine ran up the stairs to the bedroom, trying to get away from him.
Unfortunately, there was no escape. Laurence caught up with Geraldine in the bedroom and shot her a second time. Her wounds proved too much for her, and she fell dead. Laurence caught her and placed her gently on the bed.
The police arrived in record time and saw Laurence hanging halfway out of the front upstairs window. They headed to the back of the house after first trying the front door. A shot rang out just as they burst through the door. Laurence had stretched out on the bed next to his wife and put the pistol under his chin. When he pulled the trigger he sealed their fates forever.
Laurence "loved" Geraldine too much to let her leave him, and the energy created by his last selfish act continues to resonate through the whole house. I visited the house recently with a psychic. The psychic agreed that Laurence and Geraldine are still there. You can feel the tension all around the house. It breaks my heart to think of Geraldine still trapped there, reliving her last terrifying moments. The thought of Laurence there waiting to feed on someone's anger and fear is terrifying.
We had been in that house for ten years by then, and I knew that as long as we stayed there, we would always be a part of that struggle between Geraldine and Laurence. I also wondered how that struggle between them affected my family. This all took place before the paranormal got so popular. There were no investigation teams in Rockford then. There was no one to offer advice to homeowners on what to do when you suspected that your house might have a ghost. I decided to move. It was the best decision I ever made.
Geraldine's story touched me and changed my life. I started to research other local stories about the paranormal. I feel almost compelled to share these of other places and families that had similar experiences.
CHAPTER 2Barnes Mansion
ECHOES FROM THE PAST
There is a beautiful home that has stood on the west side of the Rock River since 1893. It was built by William Fletcher Barnes for his family. The Barnes family sold the house to the Rockford Park District in 1937, and it was used for the park's offices for several years before the second and third floors became the Burpee Museum of Natural History in 1942. Today, the beautiful building is once again used as administration offices for the museum.
The museum was thrilled when it acquired the building, but it had no idea what else it got in the bargain. According to the staff, some of the former inhabitants of the building are still occupying the home they loved.
The house is located right on the banks of the Rock River. It is also down the street from Beattie Park, which has several Native American effigy mounds. According to the website Genealogy Trails, there were hundreds of mounds located up and down the Rock. Both of these conditions, along with the limestone that sits under most of downtown Rockford, make the Barnes Mansion a prime spot for paranormal activity.
Another theory that the Barnes home fits is the idea that people can leave imprints on certain locations, especially in times of heightened emotions, good or bad. This is evident when you visit historical places that seem able to almost transport you back into the past. These places, like the Barnes Mansion, have layers of history, some ancient, as in the case of the Native Americans, but some more recent.
The Barnes family suffered many tragedies while they lived in the house, and these, according to some paranormal theories, also help make a place more apt to become haunted.
The staff at Burpee has had several unexplainable incidents inside the building. The sounds of long-forgotten music have been heard in the halls of the home. A former employee whose office was on the first floor of the three-story building shared an incident she experienced in the house during an interview. She stated that she was in her office on the first floor late one evening when she heard music that seemed to be coming from a different floor. The second floor of the building also contains offices, and the employee assumed one of her co-workers must still be in the building, listening to a radio. She finished her work and decided to check to see if her co-worker was ready to depart so they might leave together.
The music was definitely coming from a room on the second floor, and though there was no light on in the office, the employee decided to check the room anyway. She lifted her foot to step into the room, and the music suddenly stopped. As she stood there in the darkened doorway she felt a cold draft blow by her, chilling her. She turned to look back down the hallway and felt as though someone had stepped behind her. She decided that it was time to leave and rushed back down to her office to collect her things. Later, she described the music as not from this time period.
William Barnes's family moved to Rockford in the 1850s. William, along with several brothers, created a business to manufacture woodworking machines. They were very successful and sold their products not only in Rockford but worldwide. The business proved to be so lucrative that even during the Panic of 1893, it continued to expand when many others were forced to close down.
When time came to build his growing family a home, William decided to build a showplace that he and his wife, Julia, could be proud to call their own. Since their business was building woodworking machines, he decided to fill it with beautiful woodwork. William was a good businessman, and he hired many of the recently unemployed carpenters to complete the unique woodwork pieces he planned for his home. The large house has fifteen rooms, a turret and hand-carved cherry paneling in the foyer, reception area and first-floor hallway. The house was considered one of the finest houses in Rockford, and many thought that the Barnes family seemed to lead golden lives; unfortunately, that all would change.
William and his wife, Julia, had four children during their marriage: two daughters, Katherine and Aimee, who were said to be as beautiful as their mother, and two sons, Joseph and William Fletcher Jr. (called W.F. by his family). Joseph took after his father and would follow in his footsteps. W.F. took a different route in life and became passionate about automobiles when they arrived on the scene. He ordered one of the first cars ever delivered to Rockford. W.F. went against William's wishes and faced being disinherited when he decided to become a race car driver. William eventually forgave his son and helped him finance one of the first car dealerships in Rockford.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Haunted Rockford, Illinois"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Kathi Kresol.
Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Foreword, by Dale Kaczmarek,
Acknowledgements,
Introduction,
Part I. Ghostly Encounters,
1. The Terrible Tragedy of Geraldine Bourbon,
2. Barnes Mansion: Echoes from the Past,
3. Manny Mansion: The Smallest of Ghosts,
4. Camp Grant: Tragedy and Triumph,
5. Little Girl Lost,
6. Coronado Theater: Where the Show Goes On,
7. Veterans Memorial Hall: Lest We Forget,
8. The Tinker Family Ghosts,
9. Lucerne's Restaurant: Spirits Served Here,
10. The Haunting of Haskell Park,
11. Ethnic Heritage Museum: Home to Many Spirits,
12. Emma's Home,
13. Hope and Anchor Pub: Where the Spirits Always Linger,
14. Der Rathskeller: A German Family's Legacy,
15. Cavanaugh's Ghost: A Strange Light,
16. Fairground Phantom,
17. Ghosts at the Gas House,
18. The Legacy of Arthur Blood,
19. Rockford's Fair Daughter,
20. A Family's Terror,
21. A Restless Spirit,
Part II: Legends, Curses and Other Curiosities,
22. The Princess of Brown's Hill,
23. When Jesus Came to Winnebago County,
24. The Vengeance of Chief Big Thunder,
25. The Witch of McGregor Road,
26. James Henry Breasted: The Real "Indiana Jones",
Bibliography,
About the Author,