Spooked in Baton Rouge

Baton Rouge can be a pretty scary city. Every summer we send creatives and college graduates running for Austin, Dallas and Nashville. We call our stadium Death Valley. After Huey Long was gunned down at the State Capitol, officials chose to leave the bullet holes in the marble wall—apparently just so teachers could use them to startle young children on field trips.

But there are several places in the city that, legend has it, are genuinely haunted. Here are just a few.

Pleasant Hall at LSU

This continuing education building was a hotel on campus until 2002, and legend has it that it was the scene of a grisly attempted murder-turned-suicide in the 1960s. Allegedly, a young woman cut her boyfriend down then shot herself in Room 312. The boyfriend survived his bullet wound, but she succumbed to hers. This narrative was firmly in place when Mary Tessier, the former hotel manager, began working at Pleasant Hall in 1977. “The custodians and housekeepers always talked about a ghost on the third floor and hearing things,” says Tessier, now retired. “I knew one custodian who wouldn’t go on that floor at all.”

Lisa Graves, a program coordinator for LSU Continuing Education, says she once felt a “presence” near her on the third floor.

“Not a lot to tell, just a sense of presence, coolness in the room, kind of a tingling feeling so to speak,” Graves says. “But I like stuff that deals with the paranormal, so I can’t give you much more to go on as I didn’t feel frightened at the time.”

The Old State Capitol

Some sources say state legislator Pierre Couvillion suffered a fatal heart attack in 1851 while debating in the middle of the Senate chamber of this then-newly built Capitol building on River Road. Others say Couvillion died at home in his native Marksville, but regardless of the location, rumors of his reform-minded specter returning to the Capitol spread soon after his death.

According to spokesman Jacques Berry, as recently as a few years ago, members of the building’s 24-hour security team reported hearing footsteps in the middle of the night and spotting fresh footprints on the carpet of the Senate chambers in the morning. Once, staff found the linens of a bed on exhibit inexplicably disheveled, as if someone had taken a nap under the covers. Thankfully, Berry adds, “Pierre doesn’t seem to be an angry or malevolent ghost.”

Guaranty Life & Broadcasting

This prominent office complex on Government Street near Beauregard Town now houses several radio stations, but it was once a hospital. Legend has it that the spirits of many who died there still roam the premises. Odd noises and even the elevator moving up and down without passengers have been reported for decades.

“That’s true,” says Scott Robb, morning host for New Country 100.7 The Tiger. He’s worked for Guaranty for years. “The old morgue is where our cafeteria is now, and Mr. Johnny—our long-time security guard—tells stories of ghosts he’s seen in our building.”

Spanish Moon

Reports of inexplicable sights and sounds have swirled around Spanish Moon for years—and they’re not coming from the often-crowded dance floor of this popular nightclub and concert venue on Highland Road. The story goes that this aged building was once a firehouse and then a morgue in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Staffers have reported seeing pool balls fall to the floor and hearing women laugh when the bar is completely empty. Calls to owner Shane Courrege for this story were not returned.

Willie’s on the River

Once known as the Thirsty Tiger, this downtown bar is so haunted that owners renamed it a few years ago in honor of the spirit that allegedly pays visits to his favorite watering hole. According to legend, while still living, the titular ghost was a stablehand. In 1848 he was crushed by a falling wall at the site of the bar. Who wouldn’t return for a drink after a tough break like that?

“I think because he doesn’t understand electronics, he likes to play with those,” says Willie’s manager Wanda Calkins. “He’ll run off a roll of paper from my calculator with just gibberish. He’ll turn the TVs off and on. Sometimes nothing happens for a week, then 40 things will happen in a day.”

Calkins even had two electricians check the building, but they found the wiring to be in good shape. “I knew they wouldn’t find anything,” Calkins says. “It’s Willie. He’s harmless, though. When I ask him to stop, he listens.”