Читать книгу Haunted Ontario 2-Book Bundle - Terry Boyle - Страница 4

~ Bala (now the Bala Bay Inn) ~

The year is 1910 and it is dinnertime. Women dressed in long gowns with Gibson hairdos and gentlemen in black evening suits are escorted to the dining room. The tables are set; the service is simple, but elegant and tasteful. Outside, the sun is glistening on the waters of Lake Muskoka. Welcome to the Swastika Hotel in Bala, Ontario.

This elaborate hotel, built on land deeded to the owner on the condition that alcohol would never be sold on the property, is haunted today. Did a spirit refuse to leave? Perhaps it’s about the broken promise concerning the sale of alcohol; perhaps it’s about attachment to a grand hotel, too much to leave behind. Whatever the reasons, the Bala Bay Inn, as it is known today, remains one of the most intriguing haunted sites in Ontario.

The story of the inn begins in 1882 when Ephraim Browning Sutton and his wife Rose set sail from England after three of their children died as a result of unsanitary government vaccination programs. Upon landing, Ephraim said to his wife, “If only Clara could have seen this.”

The general store E.B. Sutton built on land purchased from the temperance-minded Thomas Burgess.

Swastika Hotel, 1921

Clara had died in her tenth year from vaccination complications. Two younger children died in the same way.

Mr. Sutton was born in Leeds, England, in 1854. He worked in the office of a publishing firm, Rivington and Sons. Involvement in the literary world was familiar to the family, since his cousin was the well-known poet, Robert Browning. Sometime later Sutton entered railway life, in the service of the Midland and Great Western Railways, until he moved to Canada. At the age of 18, Sutton married his second cousin, Rose Anne Grey, who was ten years his senior, and had one daughter from an earlier marriage.

In 1882 they chose to settle on the west side of Lake Muskoka. At the time the district appeared to be quite hostile to settlers arriving from England. There was bush to clear, harsh winters, and if that wasn’t enough, there were blackflies and mosquitoes. Nevertheless, the Suttons, pioneers at heart, cleared their own land in Medora Township, known today as Bannockburn.

The Suttons had two objectives in mind for their 50-acre property. Their first aim was to clear the land to farm and support themselves; their second aim was to develop a summer resort, a magnificent two-storey wooden structure with a sit-out verandah and a gable that overlooked Lake Muskoka. They hoped that such a structure and setting would attract American tourists. The name Camp Sutton was, in fact, given to the establishment by U.S. Civil War veterans who left the Solid Comfort Club of Beaumaris in search of better fishing.

It wasn’t long before Canadian newspapers became aware of E.B. Sutton. He was never afraid to voice his opinions, and on September 15, 1890, was reported to have lectured his neighbours on their small-minded tendency to resist new ideas in Muskoka. “It is a notable fact that whenever a notion is put forward of great and lasting utility to the public, it is confronted with an array of opposition,” he said. For three decades he wrote for the Orillia Times. His pen name was “The Muskoka Bard,” and he often lectured in his columns about how farmers should not build barns on slopes that lead down to water, and he warned tourists not to use the lakes for bathing. His main aim was to preserve the Muskoka lakes for future generations. He may still have a message for us.

Early advertising for the Swastika Hotel, billed as “Canada’s Popular Summer Resort,” 1915.

In January 1884 the Suttons were blessed with the arrival of a son, Frederick. On October 14, 1898, E.B. Sutton purchased another piece of property in Bala from Thomas Burgess, the founder of the community, and there he constructed a general store. Burgess was a Scot by birth, a Presbyterian and a Grit. When Burgess sold the land to E.B. he stipulated the following in the deed of land: “His heirs, executors … or any person or persons … will not at any time hereafter use or permit to be used any building or erection of any kind now built … upon the said lands for the sale, barter or disposal of any spirituous or fermented or intoxicating liquors of any kind whatever.”

By this time, tourists and sportsmen had discovered the beauties of this area and were creating a demand for accommodation. Lamb from the area became so famous for its exceptional flavour that posh hotels and restaurants in New York City started to include “Muskoka Lamb” on their menus.

E.B. Sutton was a published composer.

The first hotel in Bala was the Clifton House, the second the Bala Falls Hotel, and the third, the Swastika — Muskoka’s first brick hotel, a summer hotel, owned and operated by E.B. Sutton. The swastika was an ancient symbol for well-being and benediction in the form of a Greek cross, each arm bent at a right angle. In 1910, E.B. and his son, Fred, built the three-storey hotel in the Muskokas on a piece of land across from their mercantile business. He had three swastikas engraved in the brick exterior of the building. The property itself, facing Lake Muskoka, was a picturesque site. The land consisted of 23 acres and included riding trails for hotel guests. The train station was a short walk or buggyride away. E.B., quite aware of his agreement with Burgess in 1899, honoured the land deal by not allowing any alcohol to be served in his hotel. This agreement may be the reason the hotel later became haunted.

Guests enjoying amenities at the swastika, date unknown.

As the hotel neared completion, the Suttons began to prepare for a grand celebration, the likes of which Bala had never seen before. In his column E.B. noted, “Even the old folks who are supposed to take no stock in such frivolities were seen wandering home after daylight. Everything went as merry as a marriage bell. The music was supplied by five players and relays for the piano, and consisted of mandolin, guitar, violin and snare drum, an orchestra as unique as their music was fine. The Minett steam launch brought a contingent from Port Carling, while another craft brought the musicians from Bracebridge. There was just enough wax, and just enough spring from the floor, and the number of feet might be 30 score. Oh! What a time we had.”

Bala was entering the age of tourism, when families arrived for a week or more during the summer. Leisure time meant tennis, boating, fishing, horseback riding, or simply strolling along the shore of Lake Muskoka. Steamer service provided tourists with the opportunity to visit other parts of the Muskoka Lakes. It was an age of elegant relaxation.

Lillian Sutton (left) wearing a dress made from War Bonds.

In 1907 Rose and Ephraim left for a trip to England. During their stay E.B. visited British doctors who confirmed what he already suspected. He was diagnosed with what was then called “hardening of the arteries,” a condition which eventually would lead to his death.

In 1914, a summer holiday visitor to Bala became acquainted with Fred Sutton, the tall, dashing, young son of E.B., who operated the hotel with his father. All the evidence indicates that the Sutton family, who had lost their own daughters, were soon attached to this vivacious 20-year-old, Lillian Holden, who loved to dance and sing. E.B., a composer in

Lillian Holden before she became Mrs. Fred Sutton.

his own right (including seven published tunes) was charmed by her. He praised her as “the best of all jewels — a true woman” and presented her with a three-quarter size Stradivarius violin.

By now E.B. was using a cane, crippled with arthritis, and in need of increasing care from his son and his wife.

Lillian Holden and two unidentified friends, all are wearing matching outfits.

Shortly before Thanksgiving in 1916, Lillian and Fred announced their engagement. Their happiness was cut short on Thanksgiving weekend when Rose suffered a stroke while doing the family laundry. She staggered back to their living quarters and died 15 minutes later in E.B.’s arms. Fred and Lillian had little choice but to delay their wedding date to the following January.

Mrs. E.B. Sutton, probably around the turn of the twentieth century.

Lillian recalled a remarkable event in mid-August 1917, when she entered room 319, E.B.’s quarters. She discovered the sad shadow of a once-great and energetic man with tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve just been wondering whether I’ll ever see my Rose again.”

“I told him that of course he would,” recalled Lillian. “That didn’t seem to satisfy him because he said people just went into a deep sleep at death. So, trying to cheer him up, I said that if I died before he did I’d come back and give three loud knocks as a signal that I was on the other side. He seemed to perk up at that thought and said that he’d make the same promise to me.”

A few weeks later Ephraim Sutton passed away quietly in his sleep. The family laid his body in state in what was the dining room on the ground floor of the hotel, just beyond the main foyer. The first sign of unexplained activity occurred then.

Lillian and two lady friends from Bala were sitting in a room on the main floor when something quite mysterious happened. Lillian recalled it this way. “The time was 20 minutes past 2:00 p.m. — I know because I’d just glanced at the clock — when the three of us were startled by a bang on the front door. There was a pause, another bang, a pause, and a third and final bang. Then everything was silent except for people moving around trying to find out what had happened. There was not the slightest trace of wind outside, and Fred couldn’t find any sign of young people playing a prank. To this day I wonder whether E.B. returned in some way to give me that signal.”

Lillian and Fred Sutton continued to operate the hotel as a place for holidaying families. Despite changing times, they resisted suggestions to sell liquor to their patrons, thereby honouring E.B.’s agreement with Mr. Burgess.

As Hitler and the Nazi party rose to prominence in the 1930s, the name Swastika and the swastikas engraved on the exterior of the hotel became an obvious public relations problem. Hitler’s swastika, the reverse of the original design, had become a symbol of Arian supremacy and anti-Semitism. Heritage awards that hung in the lobby were trashed by local citizens and, the Suttons, sensitive to the feelings of Bala residents and customers alike, had the engraved swastikas cemented over and the name of the hotel changed to Sutton Manor in 1939. The war years brought fewer families to Sutton Manor and the Suttons decided to sell in 1943.

E.B.’s grandson, Lillian and Fred’s son, Bob Sutton, resided in the former Sutton General Store until 2011 when he passed on. Bob had spent the early part of his childhood growing up and working in his parents’ hotel. He was extremely proud of his family. His home told the story of the family: walls adorned with family portraits, old books, and artifacts. His heart was always full of memories. If his kindness and hospitality were any indication, the hotel must have been a warm and friendly place.

Although Bob was a young boy at the time his parents owned the hotel, he still remembered the staff saying “it was magic.” What they were referring to, of course, was a feeling that someone was there watching them work in the hotel. He confirmed that there was unexplained activity in the hotel in the 1930s and 1940s.

After his parents sold the hotel, it changed hands a few times and was variously known as Bala Bay, The Cranberry House, and the Bala Bay Inn. The successive owners felt no obligation to honour the original agreement between E.B. Sutton and Thomas Burgess. Once the hotel was sold and liquor was served, hauntings became a regular occurrence.

Tiffany and Ken Bol operated the hotel as the Bala Bay Inn from the 1990s to 2004. In the summer, rooms were available for guests and in winter only the restaurant was open. In all seasons they offered the same hospitality that was there with the Sutton family.

In 1996 I entered the front doors of the 32-room hotel. I could sense the history of the building. The first thing to catch my eye was the elaborate staircase leading from the main lobby to the second floor; a set of doors to the left led to a lounge with a central stone fireplace. Here, the Suttons entertained guests and held festive dances on Saturday nights. At the back of the hotel was the original dining room, where E.B. Sutton lay in state. On the right was the doorway to the bar where once there were rooms for rent. The back section of this bar area had been family quarters for the Suttons.

Tiffany and the staff openly shared their personal experiences with me. They agreed that “stuff” happens, but theories abound concerning numbers and identities of the spirits. Is it Thomas Burgess, E.B. Sutton, old hotel guests, someone simply in love with Bala?

Tiffany was a skeptic in the beginning, “I didn’t believe in that at all. A month ago I arrived at work with my 18-month-old son, Shayne. My office is located on the second floor of the building at the top of the stairs. When I reached my office door I suddenly realized that I had left my keys downstairs. I remember trying the door, just in case. Sure enough, it was locked. I left Shayne by the office door and rushed downstairs to get the keys. When I returned, to my amazement, the door was open and Shayne was in the office in the toy box. Who opened the door and took him into the office and set him in the box? I shuddered in disbelief. Was it a ghost?”

Swastika hotel, early 1920s.

Near the entranceway to the Sutton’s former quarters people often see something. Tiffany clarified this, “People see shadows in one particular spot in the kitchen. You can actually see the form of a person.”

“Activity” in the building can be felt or heard in several different areas, including a number of hotel rooms. In room 319, the room in which E.B. Sutton died, the housekeeping staff always have problems. The television can be heard when no one is occupying the suite. The staff turn the television off, but in a few minutes it’s back on again. The room is often disturbed by some unseen hand. Tiffany was working one afternoon in the room when she heard the rattle of a bag in the hallway. “I thought it was another worker so I yelled, ‘Hello,’ but no one answered.” It’s not uncommon for the staff to clean the room and return later to find their work undone. The curtain gets pulled halfway across the rod. Sometimes when the door is closed you can hear the curtain moving back and forth.

Who lives in this room? As I walked around the room I tried to sense some presence but was unable to detect anything. The room seemed vacant and like any other.

This was not the case when an unsuspecting family rented room 312. They were the only guests on the third floor. All but the father went out. He was alone in the room when he decided to have a cigarette on the fire escape right next door. On the fire escape he heard a rumble coming from the room and then the door to room 312 began to rattle. As soon as he put his hand on the doorknob, it stopped. He returned to his cigarette. Again the rumble and the doorknob began to rattle. This time he fled down the fire escape to the ground floor.

During the winter of 1993–94, when air conditioning units were being removed from rooms, a staff member entered room 312. He found the television set on. He tried to turn if off but the switch would not work. He leaned over to unplug it and to his dismay — it was not plugged in!

The second floor has been the scene of unexplained activity as well. Tiffany said, “One day a staff member was showing a room to some prospective lodgers. The hotel employee put the master key in the door lock, turned the key, but there was a force pushing on the door from inside the room. Flustered and understandably embarrassed, she went to the front desk for help. When I reached the room, I had the same experience. The door refused to budge. We found another room to suit the customers’ needs.” Presumably, an uninhabited room.

Room 208 is notable for sounds of people walking about the room — always when it is officially empty. Staff and visitors have also heard footsteps of people walking up and down the hall on the second floor, perhaps a man and a woman.

In the mid-1980s a group decided to get to the bottom of all these so-called hauntings at the Bala Inn. Their intent was to contact the spirits, identify them, and assist them to leave. One can never anticipate events when exploring the spirit world. One should expect the unexpected. Just so this night.

They gathered around the table in the dining room — the room where E.B. Sutton had been laid in state; candles were lit casting shadows around the room. They waited for a sign. And they got it!

The candles suddenly went out. They sat expectantly there in the darkness. Then the doors in the hotel began to open and shut very loudly. The noise would have been incredible with 32 doors opening and slamming shut. The group fled out the front doors, no more enlightened than before.

Kris Wydra is an amiable man who worked at the hotel on and off from 1992–1996. He handled a number of different jobs and in 1996 he was the cook. Kris definitely had some connection to the spirits in the hotel. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t experienced some form of unexplained activity. He believed that once you had worked in the hotel, it was a struggle to leave. He felt there were many spirits there who had an enormous effect on him, but he added, “I love this building. Every day is an adventure. Sometimes when I’m sitting at a table out in the bar area, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Somehow, I sense that the spirit is attempting to comfort me.”

In the mid-90s Kris had been responsible for the security of the building. It was not uncommon for him to spend the night in the hotel alone. Many times, in the late evening, he would hear footsteps up and down the hallways. He never saw a full figure but, what he did see, was the dark outline of a person and a glow around the outline.

He was strongly attached to the building and he felt that the energy in the hotel drew him in. He also felt that the spirits in the hotel wanted to communicate with someone. “I was doing my prep work one morning when four or five times in the span of 20 minutes, someone would open the door and call my name. After the fifth call, I left the kitchen, went into the restaurant area and told the waitress to stop bothering me,” Kris said.

She had not called his name at all!

Half an hour later, she arrived at the kitchen door and told him to stop calling her name. There was no explanation. They were the only two people in the hotel at the time. Later that same day the phone rang. Kris picked up the phone and heard someone breathing on line three — just a prank call. Then he realized that line three had never been connected! For the rest of the day every little thing that could go wrong did go wrong.

Each time Kris closed up the kitchen for the day something would happen to him. He felt “they” did not want him to leave at the end of the day. “One summer I lived in the front of the building on the third floor. Every night I closed the hotel and then made a round to check that all the lights were off. Shortly thereafter I would discover rooms still lit. Sometimes a repeat round would bring the same results. I was the only living person in the building,” said Kris.

During renovations of the hotel there were several unusual incidents — paint brushes disappeared from one floor to be found on another. Something or somebody would stand over you as you worked.

The central dining room of the hotel, once the lounge and dancefloor, has a lovely stone fireplace. Kris said there were days when it was impossible to light a fire in it. It simply would not start. As far as Kris was concerned this area was off limits, especially after 10:00 p.m. He refused to go there. He explained, “I sense such negative activity in this room after 10:00 p.m. at night.” A picture of E.B. Sutton was hanging in that lounge and Kris swore that the eyes of Mr. Sutton followed him. “It’s an eerie feeling,” he said.

There have been several negative encounters in this same room. One manager was cleaning the salad bar after a busy dinner hour when a broom from the corner of the room suddenly flew through the air, across the room and struck her on the head. Guests at the hotel have seen a woman appear in the area. Several of them have seen this woman walking around the room, as if looking for someone or something. No one knows who she is.

I was taken through the kitchen, the back room, and the pump room beneath the building. Kris was convinced that one spirit inhabited the back room of the kitchen. It was not uncommon for glasses to inexplicably smash on the floor. I sensed that I might have an experience in this area myself. The pump room is at the end of a narrow, dark passageway and I felt somewhat unnerved as we headed there. To add to the effect, the door on the room was the original door to 319 (a haunted room). I was told that stray animals lived here at one time but that one day they just stopped coming. We experienced no activity there, but the tension in the air was palpable.

As we re-entered the kitchen, the hair stood up on the back of my neck and my shoulders felt very cold. Kris turned to me and asked, “Do you feel it?” He had no sooner asked the question when an ashtray at the back of the freezer flew across the room and dropped at our feet. “This goes on all the time,” was Kris’s only comment. For me, it was a shock, a thrill and a moment of triumph. To write about ghosts is one thing; to experience them is quite another. Now one of the stories of the Bala Bay Inn was my own.

The photograph on the cover of the Bala Flyer shows holidaymakers at the C.P.R. station in 1916.

I was, however, soon to acquire another story. We had a book launch that fall at the hotel. Bob Sutton joined me at the table in the lobby.

We had no sooner started to get settled when the lights began to flicker. “E.B. is here. I knew he’d show up for this!” said Bob.

In spring 2006 Kim Ward and Chris Grossman purchased the Bala Bay Inn with the intent of creating a first-class inn in Muskoka. Their plans involved establishing a new interior look. The entire building was renovated and modernized without losing the historic flavor of the building. In May they opened their doors to the public.

Neither Kim nor Chris is concerned about the ghost stories surrounding their inn. In fact, they are not afraid to promote them. The main lounge on the first floor of the inn is aptly named the Ghost Lounge. The ghostly activities have continued since the first investigation was recorded in Haunted Ontario.

Pauline Levesque is head of housekeeping. She has been employed at the inn since 2004. According to Pauline, “I don’t believe the hotel is haunted. I have never seen anything.”

Although Pauline does not believe there are spirits in the building, she did reveal some stories she had been told by fellow staff members.

About two years ago, staff encountered some unexplained activity in the Ghost Lounge. Pauline described what happened. “There was a table set up in the Ghost Lounge. The table was laden with dishes. The staff working on the first floor heard a crash in the lounge. When they entered to investigate they discovered broken dishes on the floor by the table. No one had been in the lounge at the time.

“Staff would complain they heard voices on the second floor, but nobody was there. I am just waiting for something to happen to me.”

Dave Fraser is a jack-of-many-trades who has worked at the Bala Bay Inn from 2004–2007. He was originally hired as a cook. In 2007 he was made head of security and maintenance for the building and grounds. Dave is a firm believer in the spirit activity of the place. He knows from experience.

“When I worked late at night in the kitchen, I would often see a movement out of the corner of my eye. I always felt it to be a female presence — an older woman. I would see her standing by the doorway of the kitchen. It was as if she were keeping watch over the kitchen.”

Dave saw a little girl sitting on the steps of the landing in the main lobby.

He explained, “She was wearing period clothing — a large flowing dress. She was about eight-or ten-years-old. She was seated on the third step. Her hair was long. She looked so real. Although we didn’t make eye contact, she was there for several seconds and then vanished. I only saw her once, during the first year I worked here.”

One time Dave was cleaning the french-fry-maker in the kitchen. There were two nuts on the bottom of the machine. Dave removed them and set them down on the counter. Then he went to the sink to wash the parts of the machine. When he returned to the counter the nuts were gone. He spent several minutes looking for them. Then, to his surprise, he caught sight of them back on the french-fry-maker. Someone had started to screw the nuts back on. Dave was alone at the time, or so he had supposed.

A couple of years ago a guest who was staying on the second floor remarked to the desk clerk that an oddly-dressed woman was walking the hallway. She, according to the guest, was dress in outdated clothing. He went on to describe her attire. A few months later the staff was able to identify the woman’s outfit after studying Bob Sutton’s photo album. Bob pointed to a picture of three women wearing the same outfits. They were staff uniforms worn during the 1930s.

Glen Hill was the chef for the inn during the 2006 year of operation. Glen, like Dave, believes: “I have always kept an open mind. There is a greater power present. You don’t just die, you continue elsewhere.”

In June 2006 at 5:30 a.m., Glen was setting up for the Sunday brunch. He was the only one up at that time of the morning.

“I was setting up and heard my name being called. The voice was quite clear. I answered. There was no response. Since I was the only one there I felt in that moment as though someone had walked over my grave.

“About four days later I was in the kitchen in the early morning hours waiting for the rest of the staff to arrive. Suddenly two spatulas fell off the front of the grill. They had been there in a secure position for the morning. That confirmed to me that I wasn’t alone.”

Staff have recently had an unnerving experience in June 2007. A staff member was attending to all the closing up duties. He made sure that all the candles and lights were extinguished in the Ghost Lounge and the doors locked. A few minutes later he returned to the lobby and noticed a beam of light coming from underneath the door of the Ghost Lounge. He proceeded to unlock the door. Upon entering he was shocked to see one lamp on and one candle burning on a table.

The inn has welcomed the people who take the Wednesday evening summer ghost-walk tour with me (Terry Boyle), and have given us the use of the Ghost Lounge at the end of each tour to tell stories about this hotel.

There is more than one spirit here, for sure. Certainly E.B. Sutton could be one of the spirits in the hotel. He did communicate with Lillian from the other side, as they had agreed. Thomas Burgess was opposed to alcohol and maybe he’s watching out for things. The maids may have stayed to help out but it’s almost as if a parallel world is happening simultaneously, or is it parallel time?