Text:
AB: My hometown, I come from, like, Northwest, a little outside Seattle, in Washington. And there’s a lot of ghost stories. We used to be a mining town, I think. We’re definitely a cow town. So there’s a lot of ghost stories. My theater was haunted. There’s a lot of generations that’ll tell stories of being alone in the theater, walking across the stage, and then hearing footsteps behind them, and then those footsteps pass them.
There’s a story that someone was down on the stage while everyone else was in the booth, and they saw a man up there. They were like, why did they let a random old man up there? So they went up to the booth and were like, hey guys, you cannot let people into the theater, and you definitely can’t let them into the booth. And the people in the booth were like, there’s been no one. What do you mean?
Interviewer: Was there a story behind why it was haunted?
AB: It used to be a vaudeville theater, I believe, like a talent show, just a lot of different acts. So I think a lot of the ghosts came from that. The old man up in the booth was called The Watchman. I think probably a couple of people died around there. But also when I was researching this for my paper, I searched it up, and apparently a lot of theaters are haunted. A lot of theater people come up with the story that it’s haunted. So, very superstitious.
Interviewer: Did you ever go alone with the express purpose of trying to see one?
AB: No. The story goes that they were gone by the time I was old enough to actually do anything. The theater that was haunted was rebuilt, when I was around six, my parents remodeled it. My dad designed it. So there weren’t any ghosts anymore. Though we did have a Furby that might have been haunting. The legend was that there weren’t any batteries in it. If you touched it during the show, or if you tried to move it between the girls’ and boys’ dressing room beds, the show was cursed.
Context: AB is a USC student originally from a small town in northwest Washington State, several hours outside Seattle, a former mining and ranching town with a long-standing vaudeville-era theater. Her family is closely tied to the theater (her father, an architect, designed the rebuild when she was six). AB also recounted several supernatural stories from her family: a non-biological aunt who was pushed down the stairs by a ghost, a report of her toddler-self seeing “people eating” in a room with just herself and her mother, and her father reporting figures standing outside the house before AB was born. All framed matter-of-factly as part of growing up in the Pacific Northwest.
Analysis: The haunted theater is one of the most stable folk-narrative formats in American performance culture: many theaters have a ghost, many theater people can tell you about it, and the story is reliably transmitted from older performers to younger ones as part of the threshold of becoming a theater person. The Watchman is a precise manifestation of a haunting and notably sets the story apart from more diffuse haunted atmospheres typical of larger urban theaters. The vaudeville-era origin point, the architectural rebuild that “fixed” the haunting, and the displacement of the supernatural onto a battery-less Furby in the new building together shows the resilience of a haunted place legend to a changing physical environment: I thought it very interesting that the haunting relocates into the next available vessel rather than dissipating with the original site, thereby preserving a valuable performance and experience for theater posterity.
