It started out a regular vacation.
Todd and I decided to take a trip to celebrate our first New Year’s as a married couple. We drove to Asheville to spend the weekend at the Grove Park Inn in Ashville. The Inn, opened in 1913, has a long history, history that I knew little about, until after my stay.
Our room was on the third floor (the first 2 floors are the lobby) of the original Hotel the same level as the Palm Court and right next to it.
It was the Friday before New Years. After returning to the room, Todd was watching some news program and fell asleep right away while I tried to read. Since this was winter, the heat was on and rooms were kept extremely toasty. Too toasty for my peri-menopausal self and I was forced to sleep on top of the covers and soon, I too fell asleep.
I woke up some time in the middle of the night because the TV was blaring some type of heated political discussion. I searched around the bed and night stands to find the remote (which is usually in my husband’s death grip). Nothing. Sorted through the bedding and I cannot find the remote. I tried to wake the sleeping husband but had no luck. Too lazy to get up and turn off the TV, I rolled over and put my head under the pillow and tried to fall back asleep.
Soon, the political show becomes the Andy Griffith show. That seemed a strange transition from political arguing to Opie. No sooner than I think this, the political show is on again. That’s weird, am I leaning on the remote and accidentally changed the channel? Another ruffling of bed linens - no remote. Under the pillow I go. All of a sudden Andy Griffith again and the room is now icy cold. The TV starts flipping between the two shows, playing each one for about 2-3 minutes. Of course, I am now under the covers (1) I am freaked out and (2) it is now 10 degrees in the room.
I refuse to open my eyes because I really don’t want to see a ghost, no matter how intrigued I may be. This channel changing went on for at least 30 minutes because I heard the beginning and end of the AG show. I finally was able to fall asleep (or went unconscious from the fear). I woke up extremely early (before Todd, which is extremely rare) because I was roasting under the 10 pounds of blankets I was under. I look around and where is the remote? Laying 5 feet away from the bed, right in the middle of the room, perfectly placed almost dead center. How did it get from Todd’s hand, over my body, to the direct middle of the room? I was the last one to sleep, woke up in the middle of the night and first up in the morning.
Needless to say, I slept under a pillow the rest of our stay and would not be left alone in the room.
What started out as a regular run of the mill vacation turned out to be a nightmare and one of my scariest experiences.
You can read about the pink lady ghost of the Grove Park Inn here and why the Palm Court is relevant.