Theatre Of Echoes

By

Andy Demsky 

"Napa Valley Register" Contributor

October 20, 2002

Former employees report the sounds of feet jumping down steps in the empty theatre late at night. Pinball machines that turned themselves on and off. Things flying off shelves. Up in the projection booth, an invisible someone occasionally tapped a projectionist on the shoulder. There have been whispers in the dark and in at least one case, the ghostly figure of a woman appeared out of thin air.

Bob Vogt, one of the current group (along with Francis Ford Coppola) now renovating the theatre, doesn't discount the stories. He's heard them too and admits that late at night there are strange sounds and a palpable spookiness.  "The first time I took Francis inside, we walked into one of the theaters and he burst into "The Phantom of the Opera," he says.

More than a year ago, for an article for the San Francisco Chronicle, I interviewed a number of former Uptown employees and gathered their impressions of who might be spooking around the old theatre. Most of what I learned did not wind up in print. But we'll get to all that in a moment.

First, to further explore the stories of ghosts in the Uptown, earlier this month I called on a long-time professional psychic, Walden Welch, who lives near Sonoma. His website (www.wwastrologer.com) lists numerous appearances on TV and radio as an astrologer and as a clairvoyant who has seen and communicated with ghosts.

I met him at the Uptown along with Kelly Doren, a Napa Valley Register graphic artist, who shares my fascinations with paranormal phenomena. This was Welch's first visit to the theatre.

Inside, the uptown is a cavern these days, completely stripped down to its original bones. Portions of the ceiling have collapsed. The walls are bare. Big chunks of the floor are missing. Voices reverberate freely all around.

Welch walked quietly around. Then he sat in one of the few seats and as a Register photographer snapped away, the psychic began to pour out information. It was like turning on a faucet ö words rushed out of him in a torrent.

There are two ghosts at the Uptown, says Welch. One is a female who died accidentally during what may have been an Easter pageant in the late 1940's. She was searing a white dress with a matching apron and her hair was up in the backing in a kind of bun. While she was giving candy away to children, two young men in the audience were teasing her. As she mounted the steps to the stage, one of the young men grabbed her apron strings. She whirled around to admonish him, when she slipped and fell.

"She clipped her heard," says Welch, touching his own. "She died here. But no one got in trouble because it was an accident."

He describes this female entity as quiet and benign.  "She doesn't know she's here," he says. "She died in a sort of daze and she's still that way now."

By contrast, the other Uptown ghost knows precisely where he is. Likes it. And has no interest in sharing the space.

"The other soul here is male and not very nice," says Welch, adding that he could sense this unfriendly ghost the moment he peeked through the glass doors out front.

According to the Sonoma psychic, the second ghost was named Charles and had a last name of Barker or Baker. "He was about 60. He was retired and the theatre management knew him very well ö he was a problem," says Welch.

Old Charles would arrive at the theatre early to get his favorite seat and if someone else was already in it, he pitched a fit. During movies he would tell children to shut up and would scold theatergoers who smoked during performances.

In life, this crotchety moviegoer would walk from his rented room nearby to the theatre almost every day, says Welch. "I could show you where he lived."  We followed the psychic back outside where he lead us down Franklin Street and pointed out a gray Victorian standing on Fourth Street. "He lived in the back of that house on the upper floor. Every day he walked from there to the Uptown. And he still does," says Welch.

Even though he was a difficult customer, Charles became such a regular at the theatre that he was allowed free reign to wander around the place, including visits to the projection booth. But as he got older, Charles became an even greater problem to theatre management. "He would sometimes urinate in his seat," says Welch.

This cranky old gent with bladder control issues died of a heart attack while watching a movie at the Uptown in the early to mid- 1950"s, says Welch, who visibly shivered at the idea of this threatening ghost actually materializing. "He's not someone I'd want to see."  He added that Charles doesn't have the strength to materialize, however he might gather his energy enough to touch or grab someone.

In an e-mail following our ghost hunt, Welch wrote, "I did not get the impression that he is cruel of mean. What I sensed was an intolerance toward people and a lack of caring about them."

When we visited the abandoned projection booth, Welch felt Charles very strongly, but as a curious aside he said, "I also get a name like Eccles or Ecklar. Not a ghost, but someone who was here and wants to make their work here known."

So how did our psychic do? When I got home, I reviewed my notes from my interview more than a year ago regarding the Uptown's ghosts with former employee Cynthia Yallop (formerly Langlois).

Here's what I found:

"There are at least two lost souls in the Uptown," says Yallop, who worked in the theatre for six years beginning in 1989.

"There's the Lady in White. You could see her from a certain angle along the left side of the theatre if you were in the projection booth. She was dressed like someone from the turn of the century, her hair in a bun. She was looking at the doorway to the booth," said Yallop, who says she saw the revenant clearly on one occasion.

The other "lost soul" is a male presence. "Very hostile," she says, "Who makes you feel like you should get out."

After re-reading last year's interview, I called Yallop and told her what Welch said about the lost souls she seemed to know so well. And I asked her where in the theatre she recalled feeling the unfriendly male presence. "Theatre Three," she said without hesitation.

When the Uptown had been chopped into four smaller screening spaces, Theatre Three was the lower left space. And this is precisely the place Welch identified as where Charles' favorite seat had been located.

I got chills.

Also, according to my interviews with former employees, there is believed to be a man who died of a heart attack while watching a movie in the 1950s.

Then I flipped through my notes looking for the name Ecklar. What I found was Elicker. George Elicker is the name of a Napa resident who told me he used to work at the Uptown in the '40's as an usher and projectionist. The next day was a Saturday and I was downtown with my son and I said to myself, "I need to find George Elicker."  Twenty minutes later at the Coffee Roasting Company, George walked through the door. I told him about his name coming up during our ghost hunt. His eyes bugged.

"But I'm not dead," he laughed.

Elicker doesn't recall anyone dying at the theatre during his years there, nor does he recall anything like live performances, such as an Easter pageant. "The stage was too small," he says. And finally he scoffs at the idea that the Uptown is haunted.

Even so, I called local historian Rebecca Yerger to see if she'd read of any deaths at the Uptown such as those described by Welch. I admitted that I was trying to circumvent the obvious and tedious task of paging through hundreds of copies of the Napa Register from the 1940s and 50s.

"Don't bother," she said. "Anything that happened like that back then would in all likelihood would not have turned up in the papers. Things like that were kept pretty quiet back then."  She indicated that indeed the Uptown did put on live performances including tumbling acts, cooking demonstrations and pageants at holiday time, such as Easter, as Welch had described. "It sounds to me like your psychic is on target," she said.

So let's say the Uptown has a couple of ghosts, once who's pretty tame and the other that is a rotten old crankypants. Can you get them to move on?

"You can," says Welch. "You could probably get her to move into the light." But he shook his head when it came to the other one. "He likes it here. He doesn't like the renovation, mostly because he doesn't like the noise. But he certainly doesn't want to leave."

The Uptown Theatre will likely open its doors again in late spring or early summer 2003. Next time you are settled into one of the new comfy seats and the lights go down and just before the show starts, let's say you feel a tap on the shoulder. You may not find a visible someone trying to get your attention. If that happens, just remind yourself that Old Charles was there first. And try not to wet your seat.

End

     Although I was away on a working trip in Palm Springs, California and Scottsdale, Arizona, on Oct. 24^th the following e-mail was sent to me:

Good Day Mr. Welch,

     My name is Paul Danielski. I was employed at the Uptown as a projectionist for four years and worked under both Theatre Services and Mr. Vogt. Actually, I was one of the last employees to leave the staff before the renovations began. Currently I live in Los Angeles, but make the trip up to Napa at least once every one to two months to visit. I just wanted to tell you how absolutely wonderful it is (and pretty creepy as well) to have someone validate what myself and many co-workers had believed during our tenure at the Uptown.

     On of the first stories I had heard about the ghosts in the theatre was of a lady who had died in what was Theatre #1, the largest auditorium after the split. Although the story I was told was that she was murdered by a jealous boyfriend, it's a bit nicer to hear what you had felt while there although, still, rather unfortunate.

     The one thing that had spooked me the most was your naming of what we termed as the "Booth Ghost". We had named him Charlie without ever knowing who he was, or whether or not the gender was correct. Also, as part of our closing duties, we would have to put chains on all the exit doors in order to prevent break-ins, the 2 theatres everyone felt the most uncomfortable and frightened of were #1 and #3. In #3 I always had the gut-feeling that I was being watched by someone either in the auditorium seats, r up from the booth window glaring down. My best friend Chris who had also worked at the theatre about as long, if not as long as I did told me a pretty terrifying story. One night while he was performing his duties, just after he had left the booth after shutting everything down he was in the lobby about to turn off all the main switches for the night. He said he heard what sounded like very heavy footsteps running from the very back of the booth, to the front of the booth and down the stairs. He said he was out the door before whomever it was would have even reached the lobby. Although I was never chased out of the theatre in such a violent manner, I have had footsteps walking up behind me while threading a film for display, or had someone jump up the back booth stairs and stomp on the floor beside me.

     Of course, everyone else reported the usual variety of creaks and odd noises and voices. One co-worker was with me one night while I was previewing a film to be displayed the next day. He left the theatre (#1) to use the restroom during the preview and came back a few minutes later thinking I had just called his name. Apparently while he was in the restroom he kept hearing his name called and ran back to the theatre to see if something was wrong, only to find me very confused at to what he was talking about.

     Again, thanks. I just want to express my and other co-workers' appreciation for your work in laying some questions to rest for us. If you'd like to discuss this with me of some others I keep in contact with, feel free to reply to this message.

     Thanks again,

     Paul V. Danielski

     Two days later on Saturday October 26^th I received this forwarded e-mail written to reporter Andy Demsky from Mr. Danielski.

     Walden -

     I thought you might appreciate reading this e-mail I received regarding the story on the Uptown!

     Cheers,

     Andy

Subject: Ex-projectionist ö Uptown Theatre

     Hello,

     My name is Paul Danielski. I'm one of the last of the projection staff that worked at the Uptown before it shut down for renovations. Actually, I left for Los Angeles about two weeks before they shut down. I had worked at the theatre for 4 years prior in the position of projectionist. I just read your story today on the website after my best friend (also a projectionist there for as long as I was) tipped me off to it on the website.

     I have to say that both him and I are pretty spooked after reading the article. So many things have been validated for us through the eyes of Mr. Welch. There have been numerous occasions where I've been in the booth alone or with others and have heard loud threatening footsteps, or my best friend being chased out of the theatre by something as he was closing for the night. Also the feeling of being watched or glared at in theatre #3 as you were putting chains on the doors for the night by someone from the theatre seats or the booth window. I usually come up to Napa to visit every month or two, and still the Uptown and the experiences there get brought up in conversation pretty frequently, especially in my group of friends since quite a few of them worked there while I did, some even before I got there. Such as Cynthia, whom I met on a few occasions when I first began working there. The thing that's really creeping me out is that while we worked there, we named the "Booth Ghost" Charles without ever knowing that there might possibly be someone who passed away there under that name.

     The stories we were told when we first began working there was that there were two ghosts, one a male, and the other a female. And that the female was murdered by a jealous boyfriend right before she went on stage. Nice to know she didn't pass away violently, still, rather unfortunate the way that she did. The male spirit we had heard had a heart attack, but that's all we ever knew about him.

     Well, my friends and myself wanted to express our appreciation to you, Cynthia, and Mr. Welch for the story. It's laid a few questions to rest about things that went on there. And it's very nice to know that all the times we were terrified of being alone in the theatre during closing or when the lights were out, that we definitely weren't just making it up.

     As I said before, I come up once every one or two months to visit, and actually, I'll be up about the second week of November for a few days on a visit. If you'd like to meet with me or a couple people that worked there to discuss experiences that we've had, just give a reply to this e-mail.

     Thanks again,

     Paul V. Danielski

     On November 7^th I returned home from my working trip (Palm Springs and Arizona) and read the above e-mails. On November 9^th I replied to Mr. Danielski:

 Hello, Mr. Danielski,

     Please excuse my delay in responding to the e-mail you sent me on October 24^th. I have been away on a trip and have just returned home.

     Needless to say, I was delighted to receive your letter. Considering the fact that you have worked with the Uptown Theatre, to have you validate many of my findings has been a personal joy for me. When I was first asked to investigate the hauntings at the Uptown Theatre I was very hesitant to comply. Having been the subject of numerous newspaper articles I am well aware of the cynicism of the press regarding persons such as myself who are so called 'psychics'. Also, the timing for this newspaper story would fall around Halloween and I felt certain that the request for my services was simply for a seasonal story of a small town haunting. It was only when reporter Andy Demsky convinced me that he was personally interested in the paranormal that I agreed to his request.  I am glad that I did the investigation. The public response to Mr. Demsky's story has been phenomenal. I was delighted to see that people took this investigation seriously and that I was portrayed respectfully and professionally. However, I was disappointed with the editing of content. So much of what I reported was not published. Mr. Demsky apologized for this but stated it was necessary to do so as the public seems to get bored when stories run on too long.  As a reporter he would know better than I. I now wish that this investigation had been presented as a parapsychology report for a university rather than a newspaper feature story.

     Because you seem to be very interested in the subject matter due to your involvement with the Uptown Theatre, I will share with you what my findings were; that which was not published by the newspaper.

     Regarding the young woman who I sense died there. I saw her image very clearly. She appeared to be around the age of nineteen or perhaps even a year or two younger. She was quite lovely, slim, and fragile, and with beautiful blond hair tied in a bun at the back of her head. I sensed she was originally from Spokane, Washington, but at the time of her death may have been residing in Seattle. She traveled with her father in a vaudeville troupe which performed in most of the western and mid-western states. They both sang and danced. I feel that her true first name was Mary or perhaps Merrilee. I also feel her last name might be Bartlett? However she used a stage name and I think perhaps that name might have been Jennifer James.

     Psychically I see that her death was caused by playful accident. I sensed her handing out candies to people in the audience. It was Easter Sunday or close to that day. I believe the old film "King of Kings" was being re-presented at the Uptown. Before the showing there was a vaudevillian pageant celebrating Easter and then a raffle. As people's names were pulled from a large clear glass bowl on stage by Mary's father, she would pass around the candies or prizes to the members of the audience whose names were pulled.

     There were two teenaged farmer boys seated together at the end of the isle on either row three or four on the far left side of the theatre. I sense that they were from the Vacaville area and one was associated with horses, the other with hay. They were close friends and neighbors. I believe that they lived on adjoining farms and had since childhood. One boy was sixteen, I believe, the other (the one associated with horses) was eighteen as I see it. They are friendly boys, robust and full of hell and fun. Both are smitten by Mary's prettiness and as she walks past them to hand out prizes, Tom (I get the last name of Hains or Haze?), the younger boy associated with hay and grain, pulls Mary's apron strings in a playful manner. She reaches back and slaps his hand, continuing to hand out candies and prizes to patrons in the audience. Mary returns to the stage where her father hands her another prize to be given. It looks to be tea cup and saucer decorated in red roses. Her father calls a name in the audience. A lady stands to claim her prize. I see Mary walk down the stairs past the two boys, left stage and walk down the aisle to hand out the prize to a lady standing in the lower balcony area of Mary's perspective of the right side of the theatre. Immediately when passing the boys, Lyle (I think his name is Lyle·Tabor or perhaps Taylor?) leaves his seat beside Tom and rushes to sit in the empty aisle seat in the row in front of them.  I see Mary handing the pleased woman her prize, then turns around to return to the stage. As she passes the two farm boys, Tom again reaches out and pulls at her apron strings. Mary reaches behind her self, slapping his hand. "Stop that!" she says irritably. Lyle laughs and sticks his foot into the aisle in front of Mary. I see her tripping. She is tripping over his foot in an awkward stumbling way. She barley makes it to the steps of the stage. I see a blank, shocked look upon her face. I see her chin hitting flatly upon the wooden rim of the stage. I hear a crunch sound and know she was shattered her jaw. I feel her violated jawbone shatter a portion of her right skull. I feel pain as a shattered segment of bone enters Mary's brain. She dies instantly, so instantly that she does not know she died.

     The other impressions I received about this incident are that neither boy was prosecuted for her death. Her death was declared accidental. I feel the great remorse and sorrow of the two boys. The audience was never aware that Mary had died. I see her father and a man from the audience carrying her body down the aisle and outside the theatre. Members of the audience surmised Mary had either fainted or was unconscious. As I sensed her during my visit to the Uptown theatre she was still in shock, unknowing she had died. She was still dazed. She is still in that state of astonishment. She is not aware that she is dead. She has still not focused consciousness. This is what I feel.

     The rumor that you heard about a revengeful lover killing his girlfriend; this I do not believe is true. I think perhaps people elaborated and exaggerated upon the truth of the simple story I have just related. I cannot guarantee you that my impressions are accurate but I can promise you they are truthful and exactly what I experienced.

     The matter regarding the spirit named Charles in an entirely different matter. Whereas I did like my feelings towards the sweet nature of Mary·Charles had energy I did not like at all. I felt him before I even entered the theatre. I felt his energy from outside the walls of the theatre. I felt he knew I was coming and that he was awaiting my arrival. I was very uncomfortable and hesitant to enter the theatre because of his intense energy. I did not tell the reporters about Charles until after concluding my insights regarding Mary's death. However, I felt Charles was watching my every move. When I finally turned my attention towards him my arms covered with goose bumps. "I feel the energy of a soul by the name of Charles·Charles Gregory Barker or Baker." That is what I told the reporters. I said that he liked being called by his entire formal name. I perceived a self-indulgent, arrogant and cold natured man. The physical impression I saw of him was of an awkwardly tall and lean man. His clothes rather bagged on his frame. He had a large head with small pig like eyes of intent and beady expression. His face was thin and narrow, ruddy in complexion, with jowls which drooped like a turkeys comb. His hair, I sensed had at one time been auburn red, but as I viewed him in my psychic eye it was now gray and badly thinning. His overall appearance was dramatically vulturesque. He was not an attractive man. Although I did not feel him to be a menacingly cruel or evil man, I did sense that he took a sadistic delight in intimidating, demeaning and belittling people.  I felt him to be abrupt in nature, direct and to the point. He had no time for people and no interest in them whatsoever. "Charles feels intellectually superior to his fellow man and is detached emotionally from others. Today one might refer to his as a sociopath.  I see him as being an accountant·or perhaps a business or corporate lawyer". What I think I was getting is that he was an accountant for a corporate law firm in Oakland, California. I could see the tall red brick building from which he worked in my mind's eye. He never married. I felt certain of that. I also felt he was originally from the state of Indiana and that his father was also an accountant and that is where he learned his trade. I also feel he served several years in the Navy, was stationed in San Francisco's Treasure Island Base, and had at one time considered an entire career in that service, but finally opted to take an early retirement and go into accounting. He appeared to be much older than in his sixties but I sensed him to be in his mid sixties and recently retired. I see him dressed in three-piece suits usually made of woolen tweeds. He preferred dark winter shades of browns and umbers and also wore somber dark gray gabardine suits. He rarely dressed casually except within the confinement of his own apartment. I feel that Charles Gregory moved from Oakland to Napa when he retired. He moved into a two story Victorian boarding house located on Fourth Street. This house is still there today and in excellent condition. I walked the three reporters and photographer to where it is located which is just a block and a half from the Uptown Theatre. "He still spends time in the back upper floor of that house," I said to them. "He spends his time between there and the theatre. He still walks this pathway from one building to the other".

     "Charles Gregory loves movies that star Olivia DeHaviland," I told them. "He especially likes movies that star her and Errol Flynn. He loves swashbuckler films and adventures." Images of scenes from " The Adventures of Robin Hood," "The Charge of the Light Brigade" and "The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex" danced through my head as if I was watching them through Charles's eyes. Most of these films were from the 1930's and 40's but I felt that Charles viewed them as re-runs, many of them showing during matinee hours.

Olivia deHaviland

     There was one specific theatre seat Charles liked. It was the last seat far left in the center row below the balcony walkway facing the screen. He had numerous manic compulsions and one of them was definitely regarding this specific seat. He would try to be the first person into the theatre in order to claim it. Should someone else be seated in it he would ask them to move or stand beside them and stare them down until they became so uncomfortable they would move.

     As time passed by, Charles became slightly senile. He would sometimes wet himself, afraid to leave the theatre seat lest someone else take it while he was away. Theatre management would often times have to ask him to leave; however ushers rather pitied him and would overlook many of his negativities. They felt sorry for the poor old bachelor who seemed so content watching his films. I also feel that Charles was on friendly terms with one of the theatre's projectionists and would often times be allowed to view a film from the small window of the projectionist's booth. That was one of his favorite places to be.

     Mr. Danielski, you will recall that in the back wall of the projectionist booth there are two very small windows in which you could look outside and into the street. These two windows are covered by sculptured tiles. It might chill you to realize that you can see the roof of Charles Gregory Barker's home from outside them. The greatest sensation I felt while on this ghost hunt was from inside this area in which you worked. It is a long small narrow space and full of vibrations. Looking down into the theatre I viewed the spot in which Charles chair would have been placed. In my mind's eye I viewed his death. I realized he died quietly and silently in that seat. None of the patrons had realized he had died. When the final showing closed that evening it appeared Charles had fallen asleep in his chair. It was not until an usher was unable to awaken him that it was realized Charles had died. I believe this happened between the years of 1954-1957.

     "I keep getting the name of Eckle or Echo or Eckko," I said to those who were assisting me in the investigation. "He has something to do with creativity or art," I continued. One reporter insisted it might be someone who had been a projectionist at some point in the theatre's history. He thought he had heard of a man by that name during his research into this investigation. "No," I insisted. "This name comes in the vibration of art, artistic endeavor." Unfortunately it was not until after the story was published that it was discovered that R. Eckels Studio of San Francisco and Los Angeles had done the artwork and murals for the Uptown Theatre in 1937. I do not think I was channeling the spirit (or ghost) of Mr. Eckels, but only his vibrations as an integral part of the energy of the environment.

     I hope the information I am sending you will be helpful in solving some of the questions your curiosity holds regarding the experiences you have encountered at the Uptown. The theatre is due to reopen sometime in the spring of 2003. It will be interesting to see if the spirits of Mary and Charles Gregory choose to remain. I have a feeling Mary will finally go on to find the light. Charles is another matter entirely. I doubt that this belligerent old soul will ever wish to leave the Uptown. Charles is a strong and forceful energy. I believe he will be determined to remain there. I truly believe that the Uptown Theatre was the only place where this man ever truly felt happy.

     Best Regards,

  Walden Welch

©2003 Walden Welch. All Rights Reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part in any form
or medium without the express written permission of Walden Welch is prohibited.