Location: Savannah, Georgia
Date of Encounter: October 2001
I work in the food and beverage department at a hotel in downtown Savannah, Georgia. It was once the site of cotton warehouses and the particular floor I work on dates back to 1817. I was working one afternoon resetting rooms for business meetings and waiting for my boss to return from the grocery store. It was a sunny day — around 2:00 in the afternoon. I was in a room and stood facing the hall that runs from the atrium at the center of our hotel to the bar and all of the doors were locked since the bar didn't open until 5:00. I heard a man's heavy footsteps going down the hardwood hall from the atrium toward the bar. I glanced up and saw a Caucasian man in tan pants, black work boots, a white long sleeved shirt, and what looked like an old style derby hat walk past the door. The footsteps stopped 3 steps after the man passed the door. I initially figured it was my boss and was going to tease him about his hat so I yelled "Hey Larry!" There was no answer. I waited a second and then thought that maybe I was addressing a guest — maybe the door wasn't locked. "Can I help you?" I asked — still no answer. I walked out into the hall and looked to where the footsteps had stopped but no one was there. I thought at first that someone was playing with me so I checked all of the doors — sure enough they were all locked tight. I checked every room in that locked hallway but found no one. My boss came back from the grocery an hour later to find me sitting outside on the adjoining porch. I was too afraid to go back in by myself. I later found out that the same man had been seen on other occasions by two of my co-workers. We also have problems with the lights and TVs turning back on after we've turned them off and we have a door to a utility closet in that hall that opens itself often. Recently the hall lights turned off after we were telling some guests the stories of our resident ghost. The only puzzling thing was how anyone could have turned them off — the light switch was in a locked closet and the only key was tucked safely away behind the bar. We don't talk about him much while we're in the building — he seems to like to play pranks on us when we tell stories about him.