9 July 2007
190
R. Linda:
In July, me newspaper gets filler stories ready for certain seasons. This year, for Halloween, it was decided we would do a piece on one of Stephen King's stories, The Shining. We do these fillers far enough ahead we are ready and not scrounging for something as the season comes. The idea was to send a reporter out to Estes Park, Colorado, to stay at the Stanley Hotel, which is the place where King was inspired to write his novel. He stayed there in infamous room 217, and all sorts of odd things happened. Another reporter was to cover the assignment, but at the last minute, he had to drop out, and yours truly was next in line.
Like Jack Nicholson's character in The Shining, I flew to Denver from New England on a Continental flight. Like Jack's character, I be a writer too, with a wife and a small boy. I decided since the similarities were so unique, to leave the wife and child home and go meself. That way, if I should end up with a questionable character of me own, there won't be a Wendy and Danny to worry about.
I flew into Newark Airport for the connector flight and was cooling me heels at the gate when a familiar face came striding up to the ticket counter. He had some questions for the ticket clerk, and as he turned around, I knew instantly that this was someone I knew. It was the original reporter who was to do the Stanley story. I was gobsmacked, thinking I got the assignment wrong. He saw me and smiled, putting out his hand as he walked toward me. I took it, and he asked me if I was on the same flight (I was) and, since we had two hours before departure, to come to the Presidential Room with him for a drink.
Now I have no access to this room, but he did, a flash of his Platinum American Express and plane ticket and we were in. He told me he had indeed given up the assignment, and it was mine, but he had taken a second one with a German magazine (which paid big buckaroos) and so decided to do the story on his "time off." Seems he was discussing hotels when he told a colleague overseas he had decided not to do the story on the Stanley. The colleague was interested in the hotel's strange history (being a Nicholson and King fan), and the storyline came back to bite him in the arse, so to speak. The man offered me friend a plum amount for a story on the hotel that he could not refuse, and here he was.
I won't bore you with the nutcases we encountered at the airport or on the plane. Instead, I'll go straight to Colorado.
We arrived in a steamy, rainy Denver and rented a car. When we got to the foothills, the terrain was precisely the same as the one you see in the opening of The Shining, with Nicholson's car travelling the narrow roads with gouges on one side and sheer rock cliffs on the other. The rain stopped, and it was sunny UNTIL we got to Estes Park, where the sky became stormy dark blue. We could see the hotel from a distance, sitting above a lake, white and large, with a red roof. The hotel sits at the base of a twin-peaked (yes, I know Twin Peaks) mountain that covers the back of it like a giant dark cloak. I was rather amazed to see that Estes Park (which lays itself out in front of the hotel was built up -- see me pic at bottom) I was expecting remote and isolated, but not so. I found out later the town proper was one of the reasons Kubrick did not film The Shining there.
Anyway, the Stanley is up from the town and faces it on one side, but also faces some snowy peaks that you don't know are there until you turn round. It is awesome scenery. We followed the signs to registration (to enter the back of the hotel where we parked the car). As we got out of the car, the wind came up, moaning through the lone fur tree, big drops of rain began their slow and ice-cold descent, and there was a distinct chill in the air. We looked at each other and hurried down the embankment, passed a waterfall, across the terrace and inside. We were instantly struck with the lighting, all wall candle sconces against the dark wood. We found out the dark wood is really plaster painted to look like wood (and it does) by the second Shining film crew from the mini-series that was actually shot at the hotel. The concierge desk is to be found in a large hall where there are lots of expensive cushy chairs, two massive fireplaces on either side facing the mountains and Estes Park through large glass windows that make one marvel at the view. There is a veranda just outside the front door, filled with chairs, where one can enjoy this setting. There were two employees at the desk, but no one else about . . . spooky for so large a place.
We did not get a fourth-floor room (said to be the floor with the most ghostly activity), but I got the third floor, and me associate got THE ROOM, 217. How he managed it, I do not know, and yes, I was a tad jealous. We found our way to the elegant Victorian lift, all brass and shine, and went to our respective floors. We did not have a bellboy. There are none, yet I saw suit racks wheeled across the terrace at one point, but no suitcases. My room had frosted glass in the bathroom door, and inside the bathroom was one of those old Victorian oval windows made to look like a giant spider web. I felt back in time. The bedroom had old doors outfitted with the original oval door handles of the time, and the dresser an antique piece. Simple, not very elegant room, but old fashioned -- most definitely.
Me friend's room was nothing like mine. He had more of a sitting area, the room was bigger, but haunted? We left his suitcase packed and it never mysteriously unpacked itself, shoes never lined up either, as was the "story" told by some guests of that room, that said happened to them when they returned to the room.
We decided to go up to the haunted fourth floor and had just made the landing when the laughter of children sounded, BUT there were none. Nowhere in sight, and as we stood there listening, it was silent as a tomb. We moved off to room 418 (notoriously haunted, glass breaks, jewellery disappears, visions are seen, etc.), and as we got to the room, the laughter started again. We looked about, but no one was there, and it did not come from inside a room. It wasn't muffled. We went downstairs, slightly unnerved.
We returned later, no laughter, silence. We walked over to a narrow staircase to the old bell tower. It is nailed shut. We stood there and listened to the clock strike twelve. There is no clock. We hurried downstairs to the bar.
More later. Here is a photo of the hotel I took from the highway.
The Stanley Hotel from the road coming into Estes Park.
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
In July, me newspaper gets filler stories ready for certain seasons. This year, for Halloween, it was decided we would do a piece on one of Stephen King's stories, The Shining. We do these fillers far enough ahead we are ready and not scrounging for something as the season comes. The idea was to send a reporter out to Estes Park, Colorado, to stay at the Stanley Hotel, which is the place where King was inspired to write his novel. He stayed there in infamous room 217, and all sorts of odd things happened. Another reporter was to cover the assignment, but at the last minute, he had to drop out, and yours truly was next in line.
Like Jack Nicholson's character in The Shining, I flew to Denver from New England on a Continental flight. Like Jack's character, I be a writer too, with a wife and a small boy. I decided since the similarities were so unique, to leave the wife and child home and go meself. That way, if I should end up with a questionable character of me own, there won't be a Wendy and Danny to worry about.
I flew into Newark Airport for the connector flight and was cooling me heels at the gate when a familiar face came striding up to the ticket counter. He had some questions for the ticket clerk, and as he turned around, I knew instantly that this was someone I knew. It was the original reporter who was to do the Stanley story. I was gobsmacked, thinking I got the assignment wrong. He saw me and smiled, putting out his hand as he walked toward me. I took it, and he asked me if I was on the same flight (I was) and, since we had two hours before departure, to come to the Presidential Room with him for a drink.
Now I have no access to this room, but he did, a flash of his Platinum American Express and plane ticket and we were in. He told me he had indeed given up the assignment, and it was mine, but he had taken a second one with a German magazine (which paid big buckaroos) and so decided to do the story on his "time off." Seems he was discussing hotels when he told a colleague overseas he had decided not to do the story on the Stanley. The colleague was interested in the hotel's strange history (being a Nicholson and King fan), and the storyline came back to bite him in the arse, so to speak. The man offered me friend a plum amount for a story on the hotel that he could not refuse, and here he was.
I won't bore you with the nutcases we encountered at the airport or on the plane. Instead, I'll go straight to Colorado.
We arrived in a steamy, rainy Denver and rented a car. When we got to the foothills, the terrain was precisely the same as the one you see in the opening of The Shining, with Nicholson's car travelling the narrow roads with gouges on one side and sheer rock cliffs on the other. The rain stopped, and it was sunny UNTIL we got to Estes Park, where the sky became stormy dark blue. We could see the hotel from a distance, sitting above a lake, white and large, with a red roof. The hotel sits at the base of a twin-peaked (yes, I know Twin Peaks) mountain that covers the back of it like a giant dark cloak. I was rather amazed to see that Estes Park (which lays itself out in front of the hotel was built up -- see me pic at bottom) I was expecting remote and isolated, but not so. I found out later the town proper was one of the reasons Kubrick did not film The Shining there.
Anyway, the Stanley is up from the town and faces it on one side, but also faces some snowy peaks that you don't know are there until you turn round. It is awesome scenery. We followed the signs to registration (to enter the back of the hotel where we parked the car). As we got out of the car, the wind came up, moaning through the lone fur tree, big drops of rain began their slow and ice-cold descent, and there was a distinct chill in the air. We looked at each other and hurried down the embankment, passed a waterfall, across the terrace and inside. We were instantly struck with the lighting, all wall candle sconces against the dark wood. We found out the dark wood is really plaster painted to look like wood (and it does) by the second Shining film crew from the mini-series that was actually shot at the hotel. The concierge desk is to be found in a large hall where there are lots of expensive cushy chairs, two massive fireplaces on either side facing the mountains and Estes Park through large glass windows that make one marvel at the view. There is a veranda just outside the front door, filled with chairs, where one can enjoy this setting. There were two employees at the desk, but no one else about . . . spooky for so large a place.
We did not get a fourth-floor room (said to be the floor with the most ghostly activity), but I got the third floor, and me associate got THE ROOM, 217. How he managed it, I do not know, and yes, I was a tad jealous. We found our way to the elegant Victorian lift, all brass and shine, and went to our respective floors. We did not have a bellboy. There are none, yet I saw suit racks wheeled across the terrace at one point, but no suitcases. My room had frosted glass in the bathroom door, and inside the bathroom was one of those old Victorian oval windows made to look like a giant spider web. I felt back in time. The bedroom had old doors outfitted with the original oval door handles of the time, and the dresser an antique piece. Simple, not very elegant room, but old fashioned -- most definitely.
Me friend's room was nothing like mine. He had more of a sitting area, the room was bigger, but haunted? We left his suitcase packed and it never mysteriously unpacked itself, shoes never lined up either, as was the "story" told by some guests of that room, that said happened to them when they returned to the room.
We decided to go up to the haunted fourth floor and had just made the landing when the laughter of children sounded, BUT there were none. Nowhere in sight, and as we stood there listening, it was silent as a tomb. We moved off to room 418 (notoriously haunted, glass breaks, jewellery disappears, visions are seen, etc.), and as we got to the room, the laughter started again. We looked about, but no one was there, and it did not come from inside a room. It wasn't muffled. We went downstairs, slightly unnerved.
We returned later, no laughter, silence. We walked over to a narrow staircase to the old bell tower. It is nailed shut. We stood there and listened to the clock strike twelve. There is no clock. We hurried downstairs to the bar.
More later. Here is a photo of the hotel I took from the highway.
The Stanley Hotel from the road coming into Estes Park.
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
