For the Haunted Attic, we have another true-life ghost encounter from the talented Melissa Oliveri.
THE BOOTLEGGERS
There’s something about a large Victorian house with original wallpaper and ornate woodwork that creates a feeling of connection to a time gone by. My husband, a real estate agent, and I were hosting an open house at one of his listings; a stunning 3+ storey Victorian home in the heart of Uptown Minneapolis. The home had once been a boarding house and still held onto many of its original details like stained glass, large stairways with gorgeous wood details, printed wallpaper with delicate floral patterns, and a second stairway at the back of the house that led to what had once been maid’s quarters. In the back was a large garage with a loft above that had once been a carriage house.
We had dressed up for the occasion, my husband wearing a suit and I wearing bright red pants and a cute pair of high heeled shoes. We stationed ourselves at one end of the large living room, beautiful sun filtering into the room through multiple windows. Across the nearly 20-foot-long room was a beautiful fireplace, to the left of it a wide opening into the dining room which featured wooden wall paneling and a built-in buffet. To our left was an opening into a small sitting room which also lead into the dining room.
We greeted multiple visitors, then had a little down time during which we quietly sat on the red velvet chairs. I was savouring the moment when I began to sense, or visualize, a man standing in the doorway to the dining room staring at the fireplace. He was wearing a 3-piece suit, a hat, and held some kind of walking stick in his hand. I got the feeling he was from the 1920s or so. I could hear music from a player piano, the tinkling of drinkware, conversation, and loud women’s laughter.
I didn’t get the sense that this was a party or social gather, but rather that it was a business of some sort. I began thinking more deeply about the man, wondering “what’s your name…?”. Suddenly, in my mind came the name Jim Cam. And I thought “Jim Cam?” and heard back “CAM! CAM!” in a tone that relayed to me that I wasn’t understanding correctly. I thought about it for a moment, then laughed at myself and my overactive imagination. Surely, I was making things up, thinking of James Cameron the film maker or something of the sort. Right around that time a group of people arrived to look at the house, a welcome distraction from the strange experience that had just occurred.
After the last group had come by, we began making our way around the house to turn off the lights. My husband went upstairs to the 2nd and 3rd floors while I took care of the main floor. As I entered the dining room, I felt a sudden urge to bend down and inspect the wood paneling on the bottom half of the walls, pressing on different parts of it, as though expecting to find a hidden compartment. From behind my right shoulder, I felt the same man from earlier, and this time he softly whispered, “We’re bootleggers…” with a hint of pride and mischief in his voice, as though he were saying “You’ll never find it, we’re good at what we do,” and smiling at how naïve I was.
As we were driving home, I did an online search on my phone for local Bootleggers. After some digging, I found something that stopped me in my tracks. 7 little letters that spelled out the name Kid Cann. Cann with 2 N’s – which when written out can look very much like Cam. One of the most renown mobsters in town who operated in this area of the city in the 1920s and 1930s. He did business with the likes of Al Capone and lived to a relatively old age considering his livelihood. His funeral was held at a Jewish Temple just half a block from the house where I envisioned him.
Could the house have been a speakeasy during prohibition? If so, judging by its location, and his notoriety, Kid Cann would likely have had a part in it. How fascinating to have experienced that brief moment back in time, even if it was just through a vague, echoing vision.
I wonder if the people in the room that night ever spoke of the ghost girl in the bright red pants and heels who vanished suddenly after Kid Cann whispered in her ear…
Bio:
Melissa Oliveri is a writer of stories and songs who found a way to marry her passions through podcasting. She was born in Canada and grew up in a bilingual (French and English) household in Quebec and Ontario before a whirlwind love story brought her to Minneapolis, MN in 2006. The Skylark Bell podcast features Melissa’s original, spooky, supernatural story, complete with sound effects and original soundtrack. Melissa currently lives in Southwest Minneapolis with one husband, one son, one dog, and several ghosts.
Website: http://www.melissaoliveri.com
the haunted attic 