Cincinnati's Music Hall

Cincinnati’s Music Hall, a venerable art institution known for wowing audiences with beauty and talent, is also a known for its other-worldly reputation.  Patrons and staff alike have sighted ghosts for more than 150 years.  All this has cemented the building’s role in Ohio’s folkloric history.

Come hear the tale of one veteran paranormal investigator, Mr. Dan Schneider, who captured his most dramatic unexplained experience there in the fabled freight elevator.

Come hear the tales of the site’s macabre history, dating back long before its original construction.  One piece of its tragic history stands out among the rest, a manmade explosion killing scores.  Their unidentified graves remain beneath the building’s foundations.

Perhaps the spirts linger there for the heavenly music wafting through its halls.  Come linger yourself and discover the hold this place has on both the living and the dead.

If you enjoy this episode, please rate, review and subscribe on your chosen podcast platform.  You can also find Ohio Folklore at:
 
 

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And as always, keep wondering…

Special thanks to Dan Schneider, of Ohio Gothic.  This Facebook group can be found at facebook.com/ohiogothic

Transcript

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Hello and welcome to Ohio folklore. I'm your host, Melissa Davies. Today, we're exploring one legendary location that stands out among so many others. It serves as a kind of Gothic cathedral to the arts. It's in this space that we've marveled at the grace and sophistication of ballet, we've been transformed by the elegance of a symphony orchestra. And we've been drawn in by the power of the human voice, amplified and choruses that fill the stage from when to when. One National Historic Landmark, built in the late 19th century, provides space for us to rise above our daily routines. Its performances offer proof that we are more than simple organisms surviving one day to the next. It reminds us of the power of spirit, the power of creation, the power of seeing the world and ourselves in a different light. We've cherished performing arts since the first homeo Sapiens began dancing and chanting around crackling fires. Since then, we've devoted entire buildings to these arts and the design of such buildings their architecture often reflect the lofty visions and transcendent power of performance, such as true for the location we are exploring today. I'm talking about Cincinnati's Music Hall. The Cincinnati Music Hall is a treasured location to so many for so many reasons. But what does it have to do with folklore? Plenty, I assure you. In fact, I can't imagine another spot I've researched so far, that has such an abundance of McCobb history, laying fertile ground for the juiciest of lore to take root. In one sense, it's hard to imagine how this place could escape a haunted reputation, even if it tried. Luckily, those who represent the music CALL IT staff, its patrons, and its adoring fans have come to embrace the spirits who linger on its stage in its hallways, and in its many nooks and crannies. Claims of eerie unexplained sounds and feelings of being watched are too numerous to count. These experiences are easy for skeptics to swat away as fragments of an overcharged imagination. What's harder to dismiss, however, are repeated sightings of apparitions known to haunt the place. On some occasions, photographic evidence of such manifestations have been captured. One example of this went viral in June 2016 Matthew's story Zori, a bass player with the Cincinnati pops and Symphony Orchestra had a side passion of photography. The hall was undergoing major renovations at the time, so we decided to take some pictures to document the progress. He taken too long exposures at the exact same spot in the empty auditorium. The seats had all been removed for the renovations, leaving a spacious tilted floor punctuated by elegant columns holding up the balcony above. One exposure shows nothing out of the ordinary just as you'd expect, the other captured a misty, transparent amber colored shape. Seeming to hover before the lens. You can see the copyrighted picture for yourself by doing an internet search for Cincinnati Music Hall ghost photo. The picture received so much attention that it was soon picked up by the local TV station, W Cpl. It ran a story on the unexplained anomaly, telling their viewers what so many of them had already known that this historic location continues gathering evidence of the unexplained even from those who aren't looking for it. So just what might account for these endless claims which have accumulated over the century and a half of its existence? To be honest, the possible origins of ghost stories are so numerous it's almost comical. To start the land on which the hall was constructed was once a potter's field, the final resting place for those who had no phones for burial, and no loved ones to bury them. Cincinnati's infamous cholera outbreak in 1832 produced more victims than could be disbursed of with proper rights. Most graves were left unmarked and In unattended. This vicious outbreak, left hordes of orphaned children, many of whom would come to live in the orphanage that was soon constructed next to the site itself. And in the city's attempt to contain infectious diseases of all sorts, the orphanage but later serve the dual purpose of a pest house. All those with ailments of some contagious variety were sent to live there, just to keep them away from the rest of the citizenry. Many died and were buried next door with no coffin with no funeral, and with no one to mourn them. We'll get into greater detail on the locations dark history a little later in the episode. But for now, let's take a journey into the haunting space itself. For you, avid Ohio folklore fans, you may remember an interview with Mr. Dan Schneider, which was included in the Ohio penitentiary episode posted in November 2019. I've had the great fortune to reconnect with this paranormal investigator for today's subject. You can find Dan's Facebook group easily by searching for Ohio Gothic. This group's aim is to research paranormal history, Arcane Legends, and cryptic creatures of Ohio. Dan has graciously agreed to share what he describes as his most dramatic ghost hunting experience yet caught on audio while investigating a freight elevator at you guessed it, Cincinnati Music Hall. Dan had taken a public tour of the building which concluded with the opportunity to do a little ghost hunting of his own. He jumped at the chance having been well acquainted with the building's reputation for frequent ghost activity. What you're about to hear as a 10 second clip of what happened just as he was packing up his equipment. Having spent some time in the elevator and getting no detectable responses. He assumed he was out of luck, and began gathering his things to leave. You'll hear some shuffling and zipping sounds, which are dance movements, followed by two knocks, then two more forceful knocks, and allowed rolling sound and then a huge bang. Those noises were decidedly not made by Dan. In fact, it scared the crap out of him, which you'll note by the beeped curse word he uttered. The elevators floor was shaking during the commotion, but nothing else was moving. I'll play the sound twice so you can get a good listen. Also, if you want a sense of what the elevator looks like, you'll be able to find the pictures at Ohio folklore.com. For now, take a listen to these inexplicable sounds. Now that you've heard it for yourself, let's take a listen to Dan's own theories on just what happened. Come hear his story it seems some parts of our past aren't truly past at all. The historic music hall and its freight elevator in particular, remain quite spiritually active for so many today. All these decades after it was first constructed in 1876. There's so much history we could expand on from its original construction to its many renovations and more. That information is easily found online for any of you history and architecture buffs. However, for our purposes, I'd like to zoom in on the freight elevator itself. It played quite a role in the morbid stories that have come to surface time and again. Most every time renovations are made to music hall, skeletal remains are discovered. Presumably, these are the unmarked graves of those whose final resting place was the potter's field, which remains under the halls foundations. In 1927, for example, construction of a tunnel connecting the hall to other buildings was underway. skeletal remains which were uncovered in the process were reinterred at the bottom of the then new elevator shaft. Come some 60 years later, in 1988. The same bones were again on earth during repairs and additional construction. This excavation produced 11 skulls and more than 200 pounds of bones. They were soon removed to the city's morgue and then eventually entered in Spring Grove cemetery. It's believed that ghost sightings within the elevator in particular are the rest of spirits of those who died of poverty, infectious disease, and other circumstances will soon get into their remains were disposed of and poppers graves. There they remained for decades, forgotten and neglected until one day, the living decided renovations were in order. Adding insult to injury, their final resting places were disturbed, their remains move to more convenient places, their identities forever lost to the ages. Perhaps they have reason for seeking some attention, some acknowledgement for what fate is worse than death than a fading into anonymity. So as we're contemplating the possible origins of the restless spirits, which seem to haunt this venerable institution, let's take a deep dive into one of the most compelling historical events related to the spot itself. When I came across this story in my research, I was so struck with the drama brought by human pride and short sightedness. What a story of about 150 people who lost their lives in this very human created disaster. Most were buried in the ground beneath Music Hall. Come here, this true story of pride turned deadly. The following account is taken from contemporaneous newspaper articles of the day, the day in particular being April 25 1838. Many articles began by expressing sorrow for having to deliver such bad news to its readers. A brand new steamboat named the Mozelle was built in Cincinnati shipping yards. She had just been put into use on local waterways. Cincinnatians marveled at her technological advances. She was so fast, she'd made several trips from Cincinnati to St. Louis and Amira 16 hours. This record breaking time promised breakthroughs and commerce and travel between the two burgeoning cities. Her Captain Isaac Perrin, was eager to repeat the accomplishment many times over, cementing the Moselle as the fastest vessel around securing his position and the company's fortunes at about 6pm On the evening of April 25 1838, the Mozelle pulled up to the dock near the neighborhood of Fulton on the Queen City's eastern edge of the Ohio River. She was scheduled to pick up another family of passengers, building her total number to full capacity. In the time it would take to board the last family. Captain parent would hold on to all the steam he could create, building greater and greater pressure within the ships boiler system, so that on disembarking, she would race forward at a speed never before seen among ships of her size and weight. Perhaps he envisioned onlookers from both banks, gawking at the sight of the Moselle speeding by the city like a shark on the strike. As soon as the last passengers were fully boarded and settled, the captain released the steam at full force. Before her paddle will made even a full revolution. Her boilers exploded with the force of a grenade. One man mounted on his horse standing on the banks happened to be watching from the shore that day. He would later tell local reporters that he gaped and horror as heads, limbs, and other various body pieces were seen mixed within the scraps of lumber and other debris shooting forth from the site. Those wounded, some in the process of dying, were shrieking, clinging to bits, which remained floating on the surface. When she exploded. The Moselle was only about 30 feet from shore, and immediately began to sink. The pieces which remained afloat at first, on which many passengers were clinging for life began drifting out into the center of the river being swept away with the current as they moved downstream Captain parents body had been blown skyward, crossing more than 30 feet to shore and landed in the street. His remains were twisted and mangled, recognized only by the torn uniform, which remained. another man's torso that of a passenger crashed down on a riverside home, hurdling through the rough and landing in the residents living space. Fragments of various bodies remained littered through the shoreline, Blood was everywhere. As the ship continued sinking, those who had been lucky enough to escape injury from the initial explosion, were now facing certain death by drowning. Many who'd been inside their cabins could be heard screaming for help. Several of them jumped into the blood filled water. In an attempt to swim for sure. The current proved much too strong for any with little experience swimming. The only rescue boats nearby were quite large and unmanageable wooden flats. Those available rushed to the scene as fast as they could. The few survivors remained above water by the time they arrived. One little boy who'd somehow made it to shore on his own, was seen wringing his hands and flooring onlookers to go save his mother and siblings. They were bobbing in the waves screaming at him to find help. He'd watched as his entire family, one by one, slipped beneath the surface of the water and drown. Remarkably, this little boy's infant brother would later be discovered to have survived. He had rested on a fragment of the deck, which floated a considerable length downstream before washing ashore. When the wreck had drifted about a quarter mile downstream, past a riverside brewery, about 100 survivors were still visible, either struggling to swim or clinging to jagged pieces. One woman was seen nearly reaching shore, but she collapsed from exhaustion and then slipped beneath the surface. A group of men waded out to the spot she was last seen and managed to grip her by the hair, pulling her back above the surface. Many who managed to be rescued by onlookers were brought into Riverside homes and establishments only to later die of their fatal wounds. It's estimated that about one half of the nearly 300 passengers and crew aboard the ship died in the hellish incident. Some newspaper reports took share of the blame for the horrible event, noting that they had previously published glowing articles on the muzzles, marvelous feed and acts of technological wonder. No doubt, some of those articles inspired some passengers who were aboard that fateful day to purchase their tickets. calls were made for the press to change its tone in covering such advancements. With an eye toward consumer safety. Safety is better than speed, concluded one article. Three days after the disaster on April 28 1838, a large public funeral for the victims was commenced. Only 19 of the victims had been fully identified. The other remains were so badly mangled, are often in pieces that the majority of the victims were buried without learning their true identities. The event had been so horrific and unprecedented that Cincinnatians decided the funeral rites had to meet the moment. Indeed, the ceremony which proceeded with unlike anything the city had ever before, seen bells all across the city, told at three o'clock, signaling the close of all business activity. An estimated 20,000 mourners amassed in the streets and began a procession at the foot of Broadway Street. Every hearse in the city was commandeered for the event. And still that wasn't enough. They led the procession followed by ordinary carriages which transported additional remains by the time and had reached for street. The roads were clogged with humanity and all directions. Not a word was spoken among them, as all marched in silence toward the potter's field. Those who could not participate. Those sick or disabled and small children as well, could be seen huddling at Windows staring down at the solemn display below. The dead being carried to their final resting place were strangers, yet their loss was mourned and honored by those who witnessed their needless deaths. The remains of the victims of the Moselle explosion account for only a fraction of the number of unmarked and unknown graves found beneath the foundation of Cincinnati's Music Hall. If we're to believe that ghosts most often come into being because of tragic and gruesome deaths, then perhaps this case proves the point. However, it's hard to know just how many other souls were left lonely, orphans and cholera victims once discarded at the city's edge. Their numbers are so large, it said you can't put a shovel in the ground beneath the structure without turning up the bones of those lost souls. So what does it mean that we have taken a location known for suffering sorrow and isolation, and turned it into a temple for the arts. As ironic as it might first seem, I find something transcendent in that truth. It's a radical act to stand amidst so many reminders of death and destruction, and create a space that rises above at all. And in the end, I suppose that's what life is all about. We all know, at least logically, that we'll meet our own end someday. For some of us, it'll happen slowly, we'll see our death coming from a distance and note its inevitable path to our feet. Such was the case for those who succumb to infectious disease, the symptoms building over time, as they watch those around them, fade into nothingness. For others of us, death will come like a sudden bolt of lightning. In an otherwise calm day. We'll be going about our lives, doing what the fates require. And due to circumstances beyond our control, our light extinguishes with no chance for goodbye and no time to even worry about it. Those lives which ended and then were in tuned in the ground beneath Cincinnati's Music Hall suffered fates of all sorts. Our decision to create a monument of sorts that celebrates life, in spite of death, is quite fitting in my view. We're all here for some amount of time, I'll be at short and the whole grand scheme of things. One way to take a slice at death, to still a little transcendence above it, is to devote our precious time and energy to things beyond our immediate survival. When we take the time to enjoy what we can do, make and achieve. We're getting a little taste of what it means to exist beyond our physical selves. We're nourishing something of the spirit, something of the essence beyond our bodies. In a way, I think that's something that ghostly apparitions of the music hall might understand. As I mentioned earlier, staff and patrons alike have come to embrace the endless claims of ghostly activity in the place. You can book ghost tours, which often sell out quickly. comers are encouraged to bring ghost hunting equipment, in hopes of capturing further evidence of the souls who remain there. But even if you're not inclined to take a formal tour, please consider attending a performance. Come be transported to another world, be that of theater, dance, or that most divine of arts music. Come cheat your own mortality for an hour to come sense the spirit beyond our own physical selves, and join with other patrons on the same quest. And while you're at it, who knows? You might just encounter the shadow of someone who's gone before you. Their message is one worth listening to. This concludes today's episode on Cincinnati's Music Hall. I hope you've enjoyed it. If so, please consider writing a review on Apple podcasts. It helps people find the show. If you'd like to learn more, you can connect with Ohio folklore at Ohio folklore.com And on Facebook. And as always, keep wondering