As you plunge into the whitewaters of the Seattle ghost tour scene, be warned that-just as with the bawdy gold-rush era some of the ghost tales take place in-there's a bit of drama and an air of rivalry. The source of the friction is that Ross and his AGHOST (Advanced Ghost Hunters of Seattle-Tacoma) team, who take ghost-hunting pretty seriously, have been doing these thoughtful and well-researched tours for a few years...and by his claim, they were clearly the first on the scene, until the interloping "Ghost Tours" sprouted up in the very same location, with their proclamatory "THE ORIGINAL!" ad copy and a spookier, more distressed typeface on their sandwich boards.
I'm not going to feign neutrality here: There is no competition between these two. Or rather, there should not be. You see, the confusion between these tours is likely not accidental, and it's also unfortunate, because Spooked in Seattle is far and away superior. (Also: quick Cliff's notes for tourists: if you're torn between this tour and the Underground Tour, opt for this one.) But I'm sure the contrasting experience we had with the other tour only deepened our appreciation. Here's how that went down:
We arrived at Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe eight minutes late and they were nowhere in sight. The haunted walk waits for no one! After poking my head inside and asking--and here I can't recall if I specifically said "Spooked in Seattle" or "ghost tour," but I was directed to 1st and Yesler and assured they'd be there for quite a while. Off we fled to the corner in question, and saw the Ghost Tour sandwich boards, as yet unaware that this was not the right tour. This tour consisted of a man gesticulating like a preacher, but I reasoned that some theatrics were surely okay. But as we approached, a woman said, "Trust me. You don't wanna be here." Taken aback, I scanned other faces. Apparently, no one did.
It was actually the timing--he began to wrap up very shortly after we arrived--that clued us in that we were on the wrong tour. But we heard enough for my boys to get both bored and miserable, and it ended in talking about Jesus and the afterlife and felt like a strange blend of a country sermon and the stuff the toothless guy yells about in the 7-11 parking lot. There were a couple of interesting anecdotes but it was just..."off."
We soon realized our mistake and got set for the Spooked in Seattle tour, which they were good enough to let us attend after missing our reservation for the first. Armed with a tablet for showing illuminated photographs, an amiable delivery, and a clear knowledge of the subject, Ross led us straight into the stories of creepy locals, such as Seattle's first known female serial killer, a famed practitioner of baaad medicine; a ferry-haunting ghost, a colorful state representative who couldn't be trusted around coconuts, an irritable banker annoyed with the poor ventilation, an artist's graceful (though accidental) plunge to death, and a couple of mischievous dead children. Throughout it all, we were shown photos, and occasionally archival video of the incidents in question, and (especially cool) heard EVP recordings Ross' team had gathered, ostensibly audio of the ghosts saying a phrase or a name here or there. Whether you're convinced or not, it's more fun to believe it when there's evidence!
We took a ghost tour in Victoria B.C and really liked it, but compared to this one it was dry and academic. This one, at least in part due to the media, feels much more engaged and visceral. But an unexpected bonus, for me, was seeing things anew in not just a city, but a neighborhood, that I ought to know by now. The Merchant's Cafe; how had I never ducked in there? It's insane...a red glow within, then narrow stairs down to a basement chamber, then, within that, a strange, dollhouse-like padlocked (yet fully stocked) bar...whoa. (As we were leaving the joint, we saw five men dressed nearly identically like postcard cowboys. They were not, as best we could determine, dead.) Then there's the Arctic Club. How many workdays did I stroll past that place and never notice the row of beautifully carved walrus heads below every window of the fifth floor? Maybe we could all stand to see our own city as the tourists do every now and then. read more