Written by Madeleine Mason
Have you ever felt a presence in the room when you were alone? Or maybe you’ve had the feeling of being watched? Have you ever heard footsteps coming up the stairs or coming up behind you when you know you are the only one there? Perhaps you’ve caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye, a wisp of a figure, a flicker of a light, music coming on suddenly. Steamboat has its share of spirits and many stories have been told again and again. The self-rocking rocking chair in the Sequoia Building, the heavy footsteps up the stairs of the Tread of Pioneers Museum that ran off a late-night painter leaving his painting equipment behind. The actor in the 70s who fled a frightful encounter at the Depot and ran all the way to the Brandy Wine Restaurant in the historic Rehder building where there are also stories of alleged ghostly activity. The Depot, The Rehder Building, the Old Town Pub, The Chief Theater, Centennial Hall are all locations known for their rich Steamboat history and some of the historical figures may still be visiting. In light of the holiday, here are some lesser known hauntings reported around town.
The Rehder Building
The Steamboat Art Museum is the current tenant of the Rehder Building. Purchased in 1937 by the Rehder Family, this building is known for paranormal activity. Erected in 1905 as the First National Bank building, with an addition built in 1920, this building has been home to a variety of businesses. A garage auto parts store, a creamery, cheese factory, dentist, barber shop, saloon, insurance office, antique store, equipment repair shop and three popular restaurants. In the years that Antares Restaurant inhabited the 1920s addition from 1994 to 2009, employees were well aware of the presence of spirits. “The antique victrola that was never used would often just start playing,” said Doug Enochs. He also mentioned seeing the full figure of a man in a leather vest and cowboy hat floating down the hall and disappearing around a corner late one night. There was a story told about two employees hanging in the bar area after all the tables had been reset with silverware, glasses, etc. It was after closing, and they were the only two there when they heard a loud crash from the dining room. They rushed in to discover every single glass on a round eight-top in the middle of the dining room had shattered in place. Yet, not a tablecloth was rustled nor a chair misplaced. There was simply no other explanation
Generations of Steamboat Art Museum employees speak of strange happenings in the original part of the building. Along with the standard flickering lights, one employee was sure she heard the sound of ladies talking loudly and laughing. She was told, “Oh that’s probably just Helen catching up with old friends.” The Helen in question was Helen Rehder, the last member of the Rehder family to own the building until her death in 2004. In reviewing all the businesses that inhabited the building over the years, there was one that stuck out after hearing that story: a 1950s Ladies Lounge on the second floor. Perhaps what the employee heard were the echoes of women bonding in a long-ago era. When lights were flickering off and on late one evening, a staff member said, “Helen! Knock it off!” and the lights stopped flickering. It is said that she likes to partake in mischievous pranks.
The Rehder Building was originally built as the First National Bank building and the bank operated there until it went under during The Great Depression in the 1930’s. Many men took their own lives during the Depression when their businesses and fortunes were lost. A Steamboat Art Museum employee was closing up the Museum store where the original bank vault still lives when a man in 1920s attire entered. She told him the shop was closed but he went right past her and into the vault where he disappeared. Perhaps he was a casualty of those catastrophic financial times.
The Art Depot
Built in 1909, The Depot operated as a train station for over half a century. Thousands of eager passengers arriving in Steamboat, staying at the since burned down Cabin Hotel across the street, enjoying the restorative Hot Springs and the bustling town. Abandoned in 1968 when train service stopped, the Depot was taken over by the City and turned into a Theater in the 70s and eventually the home of the Steamboat Arts Council. There is the oft told story of an actor in the early days of the theater who felt a tugging on his leg as he climbed the ladder to the trap door. He ran out of the building feeling as if something was close behind him. Others have had experiences over the years, as well.
A cleaner was wiping down the mirror in the bathroom closest to the current gallery when they saw in the reflection a gentleman in an old-fashioned dress. He was leaning against the wall in what used to be the ticket office and waiting area for the trains. When the cleaner looked behind them, there was no man there.
An Arts Council staff member arrived early one snowy morning and was at their desk in the old ticket booth when the door opened and their co-workers arrived in a fluster of shaking the snow off their coats and stomping the snow off their shoes. However, when the staff member called out a greeting, there was no answer. Entering the room where the co-workers came in, there was no sign of anyone. No people, no coats hanging, no snow on the ground and the outside door was still locked. The co-workers arrived a few minutes later.
Another staff member was in the upstairs office when she caught sight of a white figure turning out of the copy room into the adjacent room.
A gentleman visited the gallery about 10 years ago and mentioned he lived upstairs when the current office area was an apartment in the 70s. He said his dog would stop at the door to the baggage room every time they passed it and would growl a low growl as the hair on its back went up. The dog never entered the baggage room despite the man’s encouragement and, after a while, neither did the man. He said he decided to trust his dog, as one should.
Centennial Hall
The right side of Centennial Hall on 10th St is the original structure of the Carver Power Plant, built in 1903. It was built by Norman Carver and his 3 sons next door to their house. It was a coal powered plant, making Steamboat the first town in the county to have electricity. Since it was purchased by the City and made into Centennial Hall in 2000, there have been several reports of ghostly activity.
A member of a late night cleaning crew was approaching the Crawford Room, a conference room that is part of the original Carver Power Plant structure when, sitting in a chair in the fully lit room was a little girl about 7 or 8 years old in a pretty dress staring back at her. She said she left the building immediately and never went back.
An admin assistant working for the planning department said she experienced strange occurrences when she began noticing lights flickering and automatic toilets flushing when no one was in the bathroom.
A previous cafe manager, who claimed to have some psychic abilities, said there are 2 spirits that inhabit the building. One, she claimed, was a caretaker of the power plant. She said he walks through the building wearing a long duster coat, boots and a hat and is “just keeping an eye on the place.” Perhaps it’s Norman Carver or one of his sons. The other spirit is a little girl, about 7 to 10 years old. She used to come visit her mother, the power plant bookkeeper, in the upstairs offices in the early 1900s and likes to play.
A previous janitor who cleaned the building in the early, dark hours of the morning often experienced what is thought to be the little girl playing. As the janitor cleaned a sink on one end of the counter of sinks, all the automatic sinks would turn on in unison. Toilet paper would unroll and the toilets would flush automatically in empty stalls.
This same janitor was working in the empty building on the friday of Winter Carnival and said the ghosts seemed especially active. While cleaning one bathroom, all the sinks and toilets went off in the other bathroom and vice versa. Lights turned off and on, and when she was mopping the front open area, she felt sure someone was standing over her right shoulder as she moved backwards across the space. She said it was not a threatening presence. More like someone standing behind her waiting to say “you missed a spot,” in jest. When in the city council room, she heard the heavy boots of her boss sounding on the wood floor. A minute or so later, her boss called her from the other side of town. The building was empty except for her. Winter Carnival is a 100+ year tradition that must have been the event of the year when it started in 1913. Perhaps the activity level was indicative of the excitement of the times.
There are many stories yet to be told about the history and people of Steamboat Springs who still linger. And, in true, “Kindness Floats the Boat,” spirit, our ghosts seem to be a friendly sort who are just revisiting a place they loved the same way we, the living, still love it. Perhaps future generations will hear our laughter echoing in an empty space.