The Sad Tale of the Hollywood Sign

I’ve been asked more than once, if I believe in ghosts. Well, what is the definition of a ghost?

Per Merriam-Webster -  A disembodied soul especially: the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the unseen world or to appear to the living in bodily likeness.

Well, that wouldn’t be Casper would it? 

So, I’m not sure that I believe or disbelieve in ghosts. I’ve seen, or thought I’d seen, things that I can’t really explain. On a bet, when I was a teenager, I spent the night sleeping in a cemetery in the city of Corona. It was supposed to be haunted by a spectra by the name of Mona. I never saw an apparition, and only learned one thing from that experience. 

Teenage boys are stupid.

But, being a researcher, I do have some gadgets that are quite prevalent on those ghost hunting shows, like The New Reality, Ghost Adventures, The UnXplained, and I’m Frightened Just To Be Here (ok, I made that one up).

And those gadgets the professionals use would be: a digital voice recorder (so there is proof of you screaming hysterically when encountering a ghost), an EMF sensor (no idea, but it sounds cool), Ghost Box (in case you catch a ghost, I guess), camera with night vision (duh), an infrared thermometer, and a box of pampers (just in case you encounter a real ghost).

An activated Ghost Box with a ghost

Now that I was prepared to do some serious ghost hunting – actually ghost locating, since I’m not much into hunting – I had to find the first place.

Ah, with all the mention of television series, why not start in Hollywood? And what better place than the Hollywood Sign?

The Hollywood sign was not intended to be an advertisement for the film industry. Actually, it was an idea to advertise a housing development in the hills above the Hollywood district of Los Angeles. An area less expensive than the homes located closer to the studios.

As the brochure stated, “Hollywoodland, a superb environment without excessive cost on the Hollywood side of the hills.”

The sign went up in 1923, by home builder Harry Chandler, who contracted with the Crescent Sign Company. The original sign read, Hollywoodland, and each letter was 50 feet tall and 30 feet wide. They had to use mules to haul up the steel support beams – wow, mules. How quaint.

Chandler believed the sign would be only up for about a year and a half but after ninety-seven years, it’s still there – just missing the last four letters.

Hollywood had become a household name around the globe by the late twenties, and what better tool to use reminding all cinema fanatics of the flash and dash of movie town then a huge sign. In the early forties, the word ‘land’ was removed from the original sign.

It is by far, one of the most iconic visual advertisements of the film industry anywhere on earth, not just Los Angeles.

Millions of people view it in person, commercials, documentaries, television series, and films yearly. It is one of the most photographed places in the United States, and you can hike to it.

But is it haunted? Supposed to be, and it’s truly a sadly tragic story.

A beautiful young English actress by the name of, Millicent Lillian ‘Peg’ Entwistle, had immigrated to America to find work in New York City. At first, there were some minor roles in the theatre, but soon directors realized how talented this Peg Entwistle truly was.

The beautiful actress, Millicent Lillian 'Peg' Entwistle

In fact, a very young Bette Davis, saw Entwistle perform in the 1925 play, The Wild Duck, and told her mother, that someday she would be as good as the 17 year old Entwistle. For the rest of her life, Davis would often mention that it was watching Entwistle that made her yearn for the acting career which made her so famous.

Entwistle stayed in New York working Broadway until 1932. It was midst of the great depression and theatres were closing down due to lack of audiences. She moved to Hollywood the same year and picked up some roles in theatres here and there.

As with many actors, she was discovered by Radio Pictures (RKO) and soon had a studio contract in hand.

Her first, and sadly, only film credit was a supporting role as Hazel Cousins, in David O. Selznick’s film, Thirteen Women.

However, most of Entwistle’s parts were removed, ending up on the editing floor, and she was devastated. On top of that, the studio cancelled her contract.

At the tender age of twenty-four years – she believed her dreams were gone. And, on September 16th, 1932, Peg Entwistle decided there was nothing left to live for. She climbed the hills above Hollywoodland, climbed a ladder to the top of the ‘H’, and jumped to her death.

A sensational suicide in the tabloids

So, on this 93th anniversary of that tragic day, I decided to see if this young actress still haunted the hillside, as so many people have sworn she does. 

Ghoulish, perhaps, but if I didn’t see her ghost, the least I could do was say a prayer for a young girl who gave up too early.

Getting to the Hollywood sign isn’t that difficult. There are numerous hikes, some moderate and some not so moderate. I chose an easier route and drove through the neighborhood of Hollywoodland – yes, there actually is such a neighborhood, with modestly priced homes for the likes of Saudi princes.

I drove along a winding narrow road up into the hills behind Hollywoodland – there was sign that stated the road was only for locals. Being a native California, now a Nevadan, I believed that still made me a local.

The path leading to the Hollywood sign

After parking, I located an access route to one of the main trails, which was surprisingly crowded with people hiking up that trail. They were huffing and puffing, as well as sweating. I felt great - an air conditioned drive can do that for a person. 

The view was spectacular.

And, when I looked at the large white sign on the hillside, I felt saddened to think a young woman, was so distraught that she felt the only option left was to leap off the letter ‘H’.

I didn’t bother telling the others around me about the history of the sign. They were laughing and taking dozens of selfies and group photos with their phones. 

No reason to spoil their day with the sorrowful story of Peg Entwistle

There is still another twist to Entwistle’s death. The day after she committed suicide, a letter was delivered at her residence, with an offer for an upcoming film. She was to play a young woman driven to suicide.

Spooky! 

For further information: https://www.hollywoodsign.org/history/a-sign-is-born

                                        https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peg_Entwistle

A Haunting we will go in Two Guns, Arizona

It is that time of year that brings communities together. To laugh, to share, and to just find the joy in being alive.

It is October – and that can only mean one thing – Halloween.

Ghosts, goblins, witches, and cryptids do their best to scare us to an unpleasant place.

It is the month to mutilate the pumpkin and paint the cat black.

One of my favorite seasons.

As Laureen and I were driving west along Route 66, after visiting Winslow, Arizona – we decided to stop by a place that is so haunted, so scary, so unnaturally spooky that most humans would not dare to tread there.

Laureen Beyer standing on a street corner in Winslow, Arizona

Not being like most humans, we knew it was an experience we just had to visit on our very own.

Laureen is not that fancy on these spectral sorts of sites but since I was driving . . .

After pulling south off Route 66 by the ruins of the town of Two Guns, I was busy scanning my hand-held GPS looking for the scariest area near Two Guns.

“I don’t think this thing is working,” I told Laureen. “If I’m holding it correctly, we’re somewhere between Vienna and Salzburg.”

No reply from Laureen.

Suddenly I heard her from about 50 feet away. “It’s right here, I can feel it.”

The reason Laureen does not like to travel to many supposedly haunted places is due to the fact she actually ‘feels’ something. A sense or foreboding of what may have occurred in the past at such a place.

Me, I usually feel hungry or thirsty. 

As in earlier articles concerning ‘haunted places’ I tend to be a bit of a skeptic. Don’t really think folks from the afterlife are lingering around waiting for me to invade their space.

“Hey, you are now in my personal ghost space. So rude of you that I will throw this antique rocking chair at your head.”

Of course, I do have to admit I have heard or seen things that I can not explain while traveling here and there.

I once saw a boy scout escort an elderly woman across the street in Houston, and I thought that only happened in Hallmark films.

“What is right here that you can feel it?” I asked Laureen, finally giving up on the hand-held GPS which had me now somewhere east of Moscow.

“The cave, it’s right here,” she replied.

The Apache Death Cave in Two Guns, Arizona

The cave, Laureen was mentioning, was the famed Apache Death Cave located about 12 miles west of Meteor Crater in Arizona along Route 66.

The legend is terrifically sad.

In the late 19th century, the two dominate native tribes residing in the area were the Apache and the Navajo. These two groups did not get a long well together and often raided and killed each other over territory or perhaps because they did not like each other.

But in 1878 it is rumored that some Apaches entered two Navajo camps and killed everyone except three young girls whom they kidnapped.

Other Navajo warriors hearing of this diabolical action started to chase the Apache to seek their revenge and get the girls back.

The Navajo were closing the gap of the fleeing Apache but suddenly lost sight of them near the edge of the Canyon Diablo, a long arroyo that meanders through the territory.

Getting off their horses, the Navajo looked high and low and low and high but could not locate the Apache.

Just then, as the story goes, one of the Navajo thought he heard voices coming from somewhere below him and then found a deep cave carved into the Kaibab Limestone.

Sure enough, the Apache had ridden into the large cave with their horses and captives hoping to trick the tracking Navajo.

The ruse did not work.

Grabbing a lot of sagebrush, the Navajo decided to smoke the Apache out of the cave by lighting the bushes on fire.

Moments later, a few Apache ran from the cave but were immediately killed by the waiting Navajo.

It only took a few minutes to realize the captives had been murdered by the Apache, so the rest of the Navajo posse decided to finish the job and continued to throw large amounts of burning sagebrush into the mouth of the cave.

There was no chance for escape for any of the Apache trapped within the walls of the cave. 42 Apache succumbed to the smoke and fire.

Perhaps a memorial for the Apache who tragically died here

I wandered over to where Laureen was standing by a small rock border, and she pointed downward. Sure enough, there was a cave which seemed as though the walls may have been smoke damaged sometime in the past.

“The hairs are standing up on head,” she stated.

Looking at her perfectly quaffed hair, I did not know what to say. So, I said nothing.

An old wooden ladder type of bridge ran across the width of the cave allowing the visitor a chance to get closer into the cave.

The ladder was not truly stable looking

“You first,” I said.

“Me never,” Laureen replied.

After a few tense moments of rock scrambling and teetering on the wooden bridge, I found myself at the bottom of the cave. 

Laureen Beyer going very slowly toward the cave

It was dark inside the cave. 

“Do you feel anything?” 

“Yes,” I replied.

“Wow, what?”

“I think I dislocated my right shoulder.”

The cave was longer than I had thought it would be. I wandered a bit bumping into this wall or that wall, once nearly knocking off the top of my head on a low ceiling and thought that if the ghosts of the murdered Apache were not going to talk to me, it was time to call this adventure off.

Besides, it did seem rather spooky in that dark hole in the ground alone.

One needs to very careful exploring such places

“You want to come down, and see?”

“Nope.”

After dusting myself off and making sure my forehead was not bleeding, I noticed that Laureen was not looking quite herself.

She told me that there was something in the immediate surroundings she could sense. A sense of doom, of tragedy, of unmistakable horror.

“They were afraid to die in such a way.”

I do not question her feelings. I may do it inwardly but not outwardly.

But there was something different in that cave – I am not saying I felt what Laureen did, but it was rather oppressive in the cave. Almost suffocating, but that could be the close quarters and wandering around in a dark place by yourself.

New Reality paranormal investigators, Shawn and Cody, had visited the Apache Death Cave in the past and recorded their investigation for their hit series.

They felt and heard things while pulling their stint within that cave.

We spent time with them when they investigated a haunted ranch house in Lucerne. We all heard and experienced things that long haunting night.

These guys are experts in this paranormal field.

But I am still a skeptic. I am waiting for Casper to come sit next to me on the sofa and explain clearly why he is a ghost and why I need to believe.

In 1881, a bridge was built across Canyon Diablo by the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad and a small tent city, named Canyon Diablo was constructed for the workers.

But that little tent city grew up to be a rootin’-tootin’ full-time town which made Tombstone look like a children’s nursery school.

The population boomed to 2,000 folks overnight and there was at least one killing in the streets near the dozen saloons, gambling halls, and brothels each day.

Some of the ruins at Two Guns, Arizona

In fact, the first Marshall hired to protect the town was shot dead three hours later. It was a lawless town.

Boot Hill became so full that the undertaker ran out of room for any new customers.

One problem with this tale, according to the Republic Newspaper out of Arizona, is that this town probably never existed.

In an article written by Scott Craven, the town had been created by a fictional writer by the name of Gladwell Richardson who passed away in 1980 who had written nearly 300 western novels under various pseudonyms.

When the bridge was completed, the tent city moved on.

It was also Richardson who first wrote about the Apache Death Cave in his only non-fiction book about the town of Two Guns, Arizona. Prior to him writing about it in his book the tragic event had never seen print.

Seems, that both a town so wild Doc Holiday would have circumvented it and a horrific story such as the Apache Death Cave had occurred there should be more mention of it in the history books.

But, as with many historical records, things may get a bit exaggerated by those writing those histories.

Those silly writers. Who do they think they are embellishing here and there?

We walked around studying the layout, checking this out and checking that out and Laureen said she could still feel that something tragic had occurred here in the past.

Perhaps something had happened to the Apache and Navajo in the 19th century and perhaps not.

A town may have been here that was totally lawless but perhaps not.

That is the way with myths and legends, they grow stronger as the decades slip by.

Are they true or does it really matter?

For further information: https://azdot.gov/adot-blog/two-guns-sordid-history-i-40