Fate Magazine - October 2005
Ghosts of the
Wink Theater
| By Connie Scott |
It is said by more than a few that
the restored Historic Wink Theatre of Dalton, Georgia has
ghastly, or rather ghostly, goings on. Mysterious hammerings,
cold spots, orbs captured on film, “the lady in the bathroom,”
film randomly flying from reels, door knobs turning by
themselves, invisible playing children, and unexplainable noises
all lend credit to the possibility that not all of the persons
patronizing the elegant 1,143-seat, three story theatre are of
this world.
The Wink looms large at the center of West Crawford Street,
positioned a mere hop, skip and jump down from a bronze statue
erected in memory of Confederate Civil War hero, General Joseph
E. Johnston. On most Friday and Saturday nights the theatre’s
blinking lights and marquee beckon the public inside to catch a
live play, to watch a classic film, or to journey back in time
through live performances with classic rockers like Percy Sledge
and Ronnie McDowell.
One of the oldest structures in historic downtown, The Wink has
been around since the beginning of World War II. It saw Dalton
through days of poodle skirts and sock hops, segregation and
integration, bell bottoms and peace signs, on up to the
beginning of the big hair days of the 1980’s. Marla Maples,
having grown up in Dalton, received her first kiss within its
walls. Actor Robert Blake, playing Little Beaver to Red Rider,
performed at the theatre from time to time. Some of the older
folks in town still tell of watching a famous Western star ride
his horse down the aisles. Memories abound. First dates and
marriage proposals.
Silly shenanigans like teenagers slipping out the second floor
window to smoke back in the 1950’s, or throwing popcorn down
from the balcony onto unsuspecting movie-goers below.
For many years The Wink served as the hot spot for area
entertainment but, as a result of urban sprawl, people
eventually began to drift away from downtown and gravitated
toward the new malls and more modern movie complexes. In 1980
the doors of the theatre closed to the public after a final
showing of Disney’s “The Black Hole.” Then for two decades it
sat empty, rotting and decaying, with an audience of mere
pigeons and rats.
In 1998 the city of Dalton, in need of a parking garage,
arranged a date between The Wink and a wrecking ball. That’s
when my father Troy Hall, a lifelong history buff, stepped up
and purchased the building from the city and began a harrowing
and costly four-year renovation process.
I was excited by the prospect of watching the rebirth up close.
Like most Daltonians, I had my own cherished memories of The
Wink. My sisters and I spent many magical evenings at the
theatre watching shows like “The Rescuers,” “Escape from Witch
Mountain,” and “Bambi.” The first time I entered the building
after my father’s purchase, it was dark, sad, and in an extreme
state of dilapidation. Sad, I thought, because the old building
had sat empty for so long.
Or had it?
The doors of the Wink reopened to the public in July 2002 with a
sold out performance of The Platters. Shortly after that time, I
became Artistic Director and Publicist there. Weekly, if not
daily, people came to the theatre sharing stories of their
experiences at the Wink. Surprisingly, more than a few were
paranormal in nature. The stories drew me in, and my fascination
with uncovering the mysteries and truths behind these tales
slowly led me toward a growing interest in all things paranormal
and straight into the world of ghost hunting.
The first time I heard the words “ghost” and “Wink” used in the
same sentence was at the Whitfield-Murray Historical Foundation.
For a surprise, I set out to dig up all the stuff I could on the
theatre to make a scrapbook for my dad. Executive Secretary
Marcelle White asked if I’d seen the video that had been made
years earlier on area hauntings. I hadn’t, so she loaned it to
me.
In the video, made by a high school student for extra credit,
Daltonian Dale Hurst tells spooky stories of incidents that took
place when his father, Leon Hurst, managed the theatre from 1971
until the 1980 closing.
Dale and I have since become friends, and he’s told me of
occasions when his father would be alone in his upstairs office
outside business hours. Sometimes Leon would hear children, with
bells on their shoes, playing and laughing outside the door.
Other times the door knob would turn, followed by an impression
left in the leather seat across from his desk.
Dale himself has had more than a few run-ins with things he
believes otherworldly inside the theatre. He’s told of times
when, acting as a projectionist, he witnessed film shoot off
reels spontaneously. He’s heard a host of strange noises, and
he’s felt “a presence.”
Shortly after the Wink’s reopening, we showed the 1939 film,
“Gone with the Wind.” Once it was over, theatre volunteer
Jennifer Rushing found herself upstairs in the projection room
rewinding the reels. She was alone.
“The most bizarre thing happened,” she has since told me. “I saw
a dark shape pass by me, and then the film began shooting from
the reels for no apparent reason at all. I was scared, but I
forced myself to finish up.”
Dale Hurst is now the manager of Carmike Cinemas in Walnut
Square Mall, Dalton. He has been in the theater business all his
adult life. He said he has not experienced film shooting off
reels anywhere but at The Wink. He can offer no logical
explanation for the phenomenon.
“There’s no doubt about it,” Dale said. “There’s something
there. Whether it’s good, bad or indifferent, it’s there. I have
two college degrees. I consider myself to be pretty well
educated and scientifically oriented. You’ve got to prove
something to me. Just because something goes bump in the night
doesn’t mean I think it’s a ghost, spirit, or something like
that.”
Isidro Esparza, a handyman employed by my father, was involved
in the renovation process from day one. Although Isidro firmly
stands behind his belief that “there are no ghosts,” he admits
he doesn’t like to be in the theatre alone.
“I’ve heard things,” Isidro said. “But you’re going to hear
things in old buildings.”
Isidro shared details of one occasion when he heard something he
can’t explain.
“I was alone in the theatre,” he told me. “It was right before
the grand re-opening and I was sitting in the storage room in
the upstairs mezzanine hammering some nails in the back wall. I
put the hammer down and turned around to get a sip of my water.
That’s when the hammering started back, only I wasn’t doing it.
Nobody was doing it. I sat and listened and tried to figure it
out. It kept going but I couldn’t figure it out.”
Some time after hearing Isidro’s hammering account, I came
across an article that ran in The Daily Citizen-News on April
16, 1980. Written by former newspaper publisher Neely Young,
“Child Lives at The Wink” describes first-hand haunting accounts
told by Leon Hurst.
“A strange thing occurred one Sunday afternoon at 12:30,” Hurst
told Neely. “No one was at the theatre but me and I began to
hear a hammering sound. I went down into the auditorium and it
sounded like someone beating the walls with a hammer. I figured
some construction was taking place next door. Upon checking, I
found that there was not a single person in any of the buildings
in the entire block. The hammering continued for about 10
minutes and stopped. This happened for two consecutive Sunday
afternoons and lasted about 10 minutes each time.”
Isidro Esperanza and Leon Hurst provide three separate examples
of mysterious hammerings. Going with the idea that the hammering
is “otherworldly,” the questions of “who is hammering” and “why”
come to mind.
The Wink was built by J.C.H. Wink. Construction began in 1939,
but Wink would not live to see the doors open to the public. He
died April 1, 1941, before construction was complete. Building
“a small-town version of Atlanta’s Fox Theatre” had been Wink’s
dream. It was the central focus of his life at the time of his
demise.
My personal thoughts link the hammerings with J.C.H. Wink and
unfinished business. So I asked my friend and business partner,
Drew Hester, what his thoughts are on the subject. Drew and I
are directors of “Historic Dalton Walking Ghost Tours,” and of
PSI – a society of ghost hunters specializing in researching and
scientifically collecting data on paranormal activities.
Additionally, Drew is a certified Parapsychologist, UFOologist,
and the North Georgia Representative for the American Ghost
Society.
“The hammerings seem to me like your typical residual haunting,”
Drew said. “Residual hauntings are scenes that play over and
over again like a film loop and in these cases the spirits are
unaware that we are in their presence. I would say this is a
sign of unfinished business, but it also seems to me that
whatever is making these sounds is in visitation, meaning that
they are not grounded – or stuck – in the theatre, but are
triggered to come back when something such as construction is
being done.”
One of the most widely talked about entities in the theatre is
commonly referred to as “the lady in the bathroom.” The lady
hangs out in the women’s restroom on the second floor. Several
patrons have reported experiencing “cold spots” and feelings of
unease while in the restroom. I too have felt a presence, while
standing before a mirror in this room on a couple of occasions.
In the winter of 2003 Judy Hall, a cousin of my father’s by
marriage, was inside the first stall in this restroom during a
performance of “The Drifters.” Believing herself alone, Judy
claims to have heard a flush coming from another stall.
Conversationally, she said hello. No one answered. After exiting
her stall she glanced underneath the adjoining stalls, looking
for feet. There were none. Curious, she began pushing the doors
open one by one. Upon opening the last door to find no
inhabitant, the toilet once again flushed. This time, before her
eyes. Judy now refuses to go upstairs alone.
Custodians claim “the lady” plays occasional tricks on them.
Stall doors open and shut while they are cleaning the restroom.
Toilets flush. Toilet seats that are supposed to be down are
raised, and vice versa.
So who is this lady, and why is she hanging out in the restroom?
Research and interviews, conducted by myself, has left me with
no clear answers to date.
“I think there is at least one intelligent spirit inside the
theatre,” Drew Hester recently said. “And when I say intelligent
I mean a human spirit, or someone who has died and has yet to
cross over. These spirits will interact with witnesses and even
with their surrounding location. These spirits have
personalities and will often portray that toward those who see
them. I believe we have this very type of spirit in the upstairs
ladies bathroom.”
“The number of accounts that have been told either to myself or
that I have overheard mention the figure of a lady that seems to
be conscious or aware of the people who visit the Wink,” Drew
went on to say. “Some of the stories date back many years and to
this day it seems that some people are still quite afraid to go
into the bathroom.”
The history based ghost tours Drew and I lead begin with the
Wink Theatre. Every now and then, when we talk of the paranormal
occurrences within the theatre a tour taker will step forward
and share her own experience with “the lady” in the bathroom.
A fellow group of paranormal researchers out of Atlanta, known
as The Foundation for Paranormal Research (FPR) visited the Wink
on two separate occasions, upon my invitation. They are a
nonprofit, non-religious, scientifically oriented investigative
group specializing in ghosts and other phenomena that can be
associated with the paranormal.
During their “ghost camps,” both small and large orbs were
captured by digital cameras on stage, outside the projection
room, and in the Wink’s basement. Orbs are transparent or
colored balls of light that many believe to be some form of
spirit energy.
The FPR claims to have made contact with “the other side”
through EVP, or Electronic Voice Phenomena. This is a process of
recording a spirit voice on tape. A female voice, undetectable
by the human ear, was captured in the balcony, just in front of
the projection booth. The voice clearly said, “I see people.”
On one of these two investigations, the FPR used dowsing, or
divining, rods. These copper rods, generally used to find
underground water or unmarked graves, are a popular ghost
hunting tool. In theory the two rods, when held in the still
hands of an individual, will cross once contact with “the other
side” has been made. From this point “yes” and “no” questions
can be asked using a single rod. If the rod moves up and down,
the spirit’s answer is believed to be “yes.” Likewise, if the
rod moves from side to side, the spirit’s answer is believed to
be “no.”
The FPR believes they made contact with a female spirit in the
lady’s upstairs restroom at the theatre using both their dowsing
rods and a psychic. According to their psychic, there were eight
spirits inside the theatre on the night in reference.
I recently asked Drew his take on the former manager’s office,
where Leon Hurst would see the door knob turn followed by an
indention in the seat across from his desk.
“If I had to make an educated guess, I would say that since the
office belonged once to Mr. Wink himself, this would be a prime
location for him to return to in visitation,” he said. “Being
that it was his office, he would have made this very much like
his home away from home, and since he passed on before the
theatre was completed it carries all the more weight for him to
come back to visit every now and then.”
“How about the film spontaneously shooting off the reels in the
projection room?” I asked Drew.
“This is your typical poltergeist-like activity,” he answered.
“Polter, in German, meaning ‘noisy’ and geist meaning ‘ghost.’
Basically this means that a spirit was able to obtain enough
energy to literally take over the projection reels and control
them itself. Now this doesn’t mean it was doing it in a harmful
way, but more than likely it was just trying to make itself
known. We have to keep in mind that 99 percent of the time that
a ghost makes a noise or creates activity it is doing so that we
may remember them and how they lived.”
Are there logical reasons for these occurrences? Could they be
products of overactive imaginations? Or is the Historic Wink
Theatre really inhabited by or visited by ghosts? I wish I could
answer these questions point blank, but clearly cannot. Are
there things going on inside the theatre that are outside the
normal realms society clings to? Absolutely. For those who
believe, no explanations are required. For those who do not,
none would suffice anyway.