Having lived most of my life surrounded by things that go “bump in the night” I can assure you that there is nothing malignant nor of a paranormal nature residing within the picture above. I am not saying that there isn’t an impressed energy associated with it. It has been gazed upon by many, many people. This does not make it haunted though. The same goes for the entire warehouse. I do feel that there is strong activity and presence but I would fall short in calling it a legitimate haunting unless I’d experienced first-hand the activity. Upon walking up to the building I felt a strong tie to the railroad as if it had been a train station at one time. But maybe that was just because of the way it looked on the walkway in front. Walking into the place I immediately felt an oppressive but not uncomfortable pressure. The bar area was nice and I had a glass of wine while I waited for my table. I took in the atmosphere gazing from crook to crannie taking it all in and breathing in the smells of a far gone era. The bartender was pleasant and when I brought up the subject of a “haunting” she immediately prattled on about this and that and “yes” the place is definately haunted. She asked me my sign “Scorpio” to which she said “Me too”. Ugh! I told her that I’d grown up since I was a young child with these “experiences” and I’d lived in a few houses that seemed to have unxeplained phenomena associated with them. I wouldn’t go so far as to claim that I am a psychic, medium, tea leaf reader or any other made up word. All I will say is that when things happen a lot at a young age you tend to understand more and accept more than the average person. Most of us get so caught up in our make believe concrete world we rarely can see or sense the world around us. It is safe to say then that I seem to know when a place is or isn’t feeling “spirited”. When I came into the resturant my attention was immediately drawn to the grand master staircase. The kids song “One of these things is not like the other, One of these things just doesn’t belong”. (metaphorically speaking of course) I felt that the staircase, although grandeur and beautiful just stood out like a sore thumb. I didn’t feel it belonged there amongst the massive brick walls that surrounded it. I walked up the staircase slowly and at the very top of them felt an eerie nausea sweep through me albeit just breifly. I instantly felt the weight of the place. The second floor is definately where things happen most. I walked around the area above the stairs and stood for long periods trying to get a sense of the place. The place is, for lack of better word, electric. There seems to be a dull, low current charge in the air. The air is as thick as mud to breathe and there is a strong oppressive feeling that envelopes you. Unfortunately I didn’t feel anything other than echoes or impressions leaking out of the place. I can’t say I felt sad nor did I feel anything positive either. The trolley car was interesting if not a bit out of place. I know if I was a ghost haunting the joint I’d hang out there. I can imagine a spirit of yore scratching their ectoplasmic noggin and querying “how the hell did that get there?”. At any rate I did as asked and stared at the spookie old picture. Upon walking into that far area of the upstairs I have to admit I was less interested in the picture on the wall as I was more interested in the area just outside the stainless steel double-doors of the upstairs kitchen. When I walked over a small area out in front of the doors there was a strong “now you feel it, now you don’t” thing. Pretty cool and I kept pacing back in forth across that area just to be sure. I am confident that anyone standing near would think I was coo coo for coco puffs. I stared at the picture on the wall but as I mentioned above. I didn’t feel anything… nada, zilch – zero. I would love to have stayed longer but a couple of people (don’t know if they worked there or not) asked if I felt something. Of course this embarassed me immensely. I blushed and muttered quickly something stupid like “no opinion, not officially yes or officially no” I am sure they rolled their fore finger around their ears making crazy eyes after I walked away. I am not easily offended. I don’t pretend to be something I am not and get incredibly uncomfortable about the subject of paranormal and the “what do you feel?” questions. The answer is “I don’t know” really. It is all weird and I am not so pious as to think my meager brain can comprehend that vast strangeness of this world. With that humility I just focus on the weird and let it unravel in it’s strange and obscure ways. I don’t try to rationalize anything and just accept it and let it happen. I am sincerely interested in these things and love taking it all in. It’s purely a personal thing.

So, in my opinion? Is the place haunted? (the jury is out and would require more time to assess the evidence) But something paranormal is definately stirring up things at The Spagetti Warehouse.

Oh and the food is probably some of the best Italian food i’ve had. No complaints at all!

I think you may need to talk with the Spaghetti Warehouse and see if they can narrow the story down to a decade or two… unless they know the name of the man.

With a time reference, you can use Houston city directories to find the name of the company and — by brute force page-by-page searches, if necessary — find out who worked there, too. Then, you’d go to obituaries.

However, if you can verify the street address (numbers sometimes change as streets are extended, etc.), and if the obituaries are thoroughly indexed (that’s a long shot), you might be able to locate the man that way.

It probably won’t be easy research, but with a time frame, you can make it simpler than if you’re searching the entire end of the 19th century and early 20th century.

Cheerfully,
Fiona

I have been to the Spaghetti Warehouse and I myself experienced something. I have a photo with 2 orbs in it and when you zoom in the top left orb has a face. It’s awesome! I was standing on the 2nd floor by the mens bathroom waiting for my boyfriend to come out and I noticed two shadows go by the back wall where the michelen sign is and that’s exactly where the orbs are in the picture. My friend came out of the bathroom and said his chest tightened up and he really wanted to get out of there, well I wanted to get that feeling too, but he refused to go back in there. And the entire 2nd floor is just so cold and you can definately feel a presence there. For some reason everytime I looked at the kitchen I got the most creeped out, I don’t know why, but there’s something about that kitchen that gave me the chills and made me always keep an eye on it. I would love for you to take a look at the photo I’ve taken, just shoot me an e-mail.

Thanks for that information. It makes a lot of sense.

Cheerfully,
Fiona Broome

First, thanks for taking the time to post all of this.

Though hauntings seem to be a marketing tool for many businesses, I think the Spaghetti Warehouses seem to land at sites with existing ghost stories. That seems coincidental, from how the stories are told, but I could be wrong. (Ref: The holiday traditions at their Austin restaurant, described in my Austin book.)

I’ve heard the pharmacist story about the Houston location. The one conveyed to me by someone who’d been at the restaurant for many years (not a “twenty-something”) told it regarding the warehouse owner or manager. The support for the story was one or two of the photos above the staircase, which show the history of the building based on the signs on its exterior.

According to that story, the death was not widely reported due to the pending sale of the building or — in another version of the story — an innate superstitious nature of the workers, and a fear that they’d quit and be difficult to replace. It would take considerable research at Vital Records to determine the facts of the case.

The strongest ghost story is definitely the wife, and her appearances were reported most often around the ground floor ladies’ room. However, during one of our investigative visits, a lit sign on a ground floor wall was blinking on and off as if responding to the story and our questions, K-II style. (That seemed amusing, but we didn’t take it seriously.)

During another investigation, the power to the entire building went out, without explanation. However, that seems to be routine at some Texas investigations. (See my Austin book for more of the same.)

Since my mother majored in Portrait at Mass. College of Art, I’m familiar with the eye issue you’ve mentioned. In fact, it’s cleverly amplified with the portraits at Disney’s various “Haunted Mansion” attractions. However, I think the portrait is more eerie than that. Your explanations may be all there is to it… but they may not.

At this point, with the wealth of stories at the Houston Spaghetti Warehouse, I think it’s necessary to include two other possibilities:

1. The real stories of the restaurant’s ghosts are based in historical events that were suppressed or simply haven’t been adequately researched. Those kinds of problems will affect the accuracy of the tales.

2. We need to include the effects of the “observer,” to use quantum physics terms. In simplest possible terms: If enough people believe something, it manifests to a greater or lesser degree, matching their expectations. That’s powerfully suggested by the studies described in Conjuring Up Philip.

However, regardless of the accuracy of the stories and whether or not the Spaghetti Warehouse has ghosts, these stories should be shared as wonderful traditions and folklore. Unless a story causes continuing problems (or even harm) to people, I generally encourage people to share their stories here.

While I’m a stickler for historical accuracy at the sites I investigate in depth — such as The Myrtles Plantation where none of the children actually died, and we cannot document a slave named Chloe — I avoid debunking stories that may eventually lead to the true history of a haunted site. I look for what’s anomalous and what’s consistent in the stories, and that usually helps isolate accurate details that can help us find the ghosts’ documented histories.

Thanks again for taking the time to detail your findings and interpretations of the Spaghetti Warehouse’s strange, ghostly history.

Cheerfully,
Fiona