According to local resident, Art, there are some strange sounds coming out of a long and relatively narrow canyon near his neighborhood.
“Yeah, I have heard what could be referred to as shrieks in the late evening hours,” he said.
My buddy Paul had traveled with me to Kingman, Arizona to check out a couple of possibly scary haunts.
Laureen said nope when I advised her that the first stop would be Slaughterhouse Canyon.
After showing her some research I had conducted on the chilly-willy versions of what had gone down in the canyon there was no way Laureen would travel with me.
I asked Paul.
“Are you buying lunch?”
“If I have to,” I responded.
“You do and I’m going.”
Laureen feels things when it comes to the ghouls and goblins from the supposed afterlife. She’ll state something to the effect – “Something bad happened here; I feel a sense of doom.”
Like a good husband, I nodded my head.
Slaughterhouse Canyon is easy to locate in Kingman. Drive onto Andy Devine Avenue and look for the sign with a big finger pointing and the written words beneath it - ‘This way to Slaughterhouse Canyon – but beware.’
It is just northwest of a large housing tract where our new local friend Art lived.
In an article from the online site ‘Only In Your State,’ the canyon received its scary name from an event which may have occurred in the mid-1800s.
A family consisting of a father, mother and three children lived in a ramshackle cabin in the canyon next to a consistently running creek. The husband was a miner but not a particularly good one and the family had a tough time financially.
One day he left and never returned. With no one supplying what the family needed, the mother grew desperate watching her children getting hungrier and hungrier by the day. Legend has it that she could not take watching her children starve the death, so she murdered them to save them from such a long and painful death. She then threw their remains in the creek and took her own life soon afterwards.
Visitors to Slaughterhouse Canyon have reported feeling the anguish that still permeates the air, according to the article. And on evenings and nights when the air is quite still, it is said that you can hear the screams of the children.
With all due deference, Paul and I were there in the late morning hours and all we heard were birds chirping, lizards scampering, and butterflies flapping.
“We have a lot of coyotes around here and that’s the sound I hear coming from inside the canyon,” Art said.
“No blood curdling screams of anguish and pain?” I asked.
“Nope, just coyotes baying at the moon.”
Enough said, that is a haunting sound all of its own.
We drove along a well graded dirt track along Slaughterhouse Canyon Road – yes, there is a road by that name -- but we did not see any old ramshackled house where the mother and children may have lived.
.JPG) |
| Aerial view of Slaughterhouse Canyon Road |
 |
| Slaughterhouse Canyon Road - Kingman, Arizona |
 |
| What could this be? |
“A storage box for tools,” I said.
But with plenty of modern-day graffiti sprayed on it, we knew now it was a party place for youngsters who told their parents they were going to the library to study.
That excuse worked for me as a kid.
.JPG) |
| Caves for ghosts to hide in? Booo! |
What a horrible decision that must have been made by a parent. That perhaps is a haunting enough story.
“What now?”
“Ghost hunting makes me thirsty,” I replied. “Let us find an old place for an adult libation and I will wager it is haunted too.”
The Sportsman’s Bar is in the historic section of Kingman and was built in the early 1900s. It is a wonderful place to visit.
A long wood bar top, which appears to be the original, stretches for nearly a hundred yards into the interior of the establishment. Pool tables, a jukebox, dart boards, animal heads mounted on the walls, American flags, and a ceiling made of metal panels, make this place one of the coolest saloons I have visited. Not that I visit many but have read stories of those who have.
The Sportsman’s Bar makes folks feel welcome with comfortable stools lined belly-up against the bar itself and that is where Paul and I plopped down.
Tammy Gross, the General Manager, and bartender extraordinaire, asked what we would be having.
“First,” I said. “Is this place haunted?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of or at least I haven’t noticed anything.”
But the way she said it, I knew there was more to that story, and there was.
“Well, one day I was here alone, and the jukebox just started playing by itself,” she said. “We have it programmed to play random songs unless a customer puts money in and chooses the songs.”
“Uh huh,” I said.
“It ran through every song with a Tuesday in it. Ruby Tuesday by the Stones, Tuesday’s Dead by Cat Stevens, Sweet Tuesday Morning by Badfinger, I Think It’s Tuesday by the Drunks and every other song that had a mention of a Tuesday.”
“Huh,” I said.
“Yes, it was a Tuesday.”
“Makes sense since it was a Tuesday,” I replied. “It wouldn’t if it had been Wednesday, or they may have been pretty dumb ghosts.”
Tammy then mentioned that some other staff had seen lights go off and on with no one present. Sounds of people walking on the roof when no people were there.
“You know there are tunnels beneath all the buildings on this street. Tunnels the early miners used. No one is allowed to enter now due to their condition, but rumor has it that there is even an old Speakeasy down there used during the prohibition years.”
 |
| Secret tunnels lay beneath these Kingman businesses |
“I camp out near Sitgreaves Pass on old Route 66 out of Oatman and I’ve heard some things during the night I cannot explain.”
Turns out Dean is quite the outdoorsman and spends his time camping here and there when he has a chance. Along Sitgreaves Pass is a long view of the valley heading toward Kingman and he finds the solitude enjoyable.
That is until one night around midnight he was awakened by the sound of someone using a pick-axe nearby.
A lot of small mines had been started and abandoned near Oatman in the late 19th century but not much activity during the 21st century.
Well, someone or something was going to town trying to dig for riches on this evening.
“I got up, looked around and walked toward the sounds. The picking was so close I knew I would bump into whoever was working so late in the night on their mine. But suddenly the noise stopped. I stook there for a long time and nothing else happened. In the morning, I checked all around where I had heard the pickaxe, and nothing had been disturbed. It was very chilling to say the least.”
Perhaps an old miner had returned to try their luck one more time near Sitgreaves Pass without knowing a live body was nearby.
Next door to the Sportsman’s Bar is the Hotel Brunswick, listed as one of the most haunted hotels in the area.
Ghosts and shadow people wander all over the hotel – in fact, some shadow people walk through living people. Very rude indeed.
A little girl ghost frequents the dining room.
“Tammy, what about the Brunswick next door?” I asked. “Shadow people, ghosts wandering here and there without a care in the world.”
She looked around. “You know a shadow person is an entity in a sense that looks like a person. I have seen them.”
“At the Brunswick Hotel?”
She shook her head. “I’m pretty much of a local and have been in the hotel, the restaurant, and the bar lots of times. No shadow people there.”
“Huh,” I said.
“But others have seen them and heard strange sounds when the place was supposed to be empty.”
 |
| The Brunswick Hotel ready for a make-over |
Is Kingman haunted?
Could be, but more importantly historic Kingman deserves a visit and you never know, there’s always the possibility a ghost may introduce themselves.
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)