You aren’t being a pest at all. Here’s the last of my personal ghost stories from Disneyland (there are lots more stories, but none involving me).

Back before 9/11, it was easier (or at least something you wouldn’t get fired for if caught) to walk around attractions when the park was closed. Nowadays, it’s much more likely to result in instant termination and a possible questioning from the FBI.

A friend convinced me to go into the Haunted Mansion with him one night after work. Well, he really didn’t have to twist my arm that much. This was before I had experienced any hauntings, but I had heard that the Mansion was haunted…and of course there were the dreams which led to more of a curiosity.

First I’ll tell you about the dreams.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had recurring nightmares about the haunted mansion. They still show up now and then, and I’m 36 years old. They aren’t the same now as they were then, but in some ways the Mansion haunts me still.

The first dreams would have me sneaking into the mansion (I know, makes me wonder why I agreed so readily to doing it in real life). When I decided to leave in the dream, the mansion wouldn’t let me. Doors would close and lock, and I couldn’t open them. Windows would be open, inviting me to try, but would always close before I got there and not open.

Finally I would find the one weak window, which would break when I threw a chair at it, and I would climb outside. I’d head to the gate outside, and it would naturally be locked. I’d climb the fence, but the spikes on top would curve in towards me, preventing me from getting over.

In one of these dreams, I decided that death was the only way I would leave, so I took a shard of glass from he window and went after my wrist. The glass would curve away as it got closer to my skin, unwilling to cut. It wasn’t letting me off that easy.

In another incarnation of the dream, I would be riding in a Doom Buggy. I’d get as far as the endless hallway with the floating candle, and the hallway would be trying to suck me in. I’d literally be horizontal, barely hanging on to the lap bar as my feet would be hanging out towards the hallway, trying to keep from going to wherever the force was trying to pull me.  I actually went on an “official” walkthrough of the mansion once that one of our managers arranged, and we went down that hallway. I was really uneasy. The Cast Member was opening doors, showing us passageways, supplies, etc. Someone asked about the last door on the left, and he just said “We never open that one.” I’d love to know what (if anything) is in there. Coupled with the dream, that door scares me.

In the hallway dreams, I would hang on and at the end of the ride, instead of the real ending, all the Doom Buggies would gather in one room. The Ghost Host would select three people, myself always among them, to get out of their buggy and head to a light switch.

Two people would have a switch next to their Doom Buggy. Mine would be across the room. “On the count of three,” the Ghost Host would say, “turn out your switches. The last of you to get back into your Doom Buggy will be with us forever.”

So I already know I’m fucked. I’ve gotta get across the room before the two others turn around and sit down? Yeah, that’ll happen. So the voice starts counting. “One, two, thr—” and I would bolt awake. Every single time.

Anyway, back to the unauthorized walkthrough. I have heard that the table in the seance room was a gift to Walt from a satanic cult, and they wanted it included in the mansion. Walt was actually into the occult (his ghost is one that is said to haunt the park…even the pre-Toontown shape of the park is construed by some to be the symbol of the unholy trinity…or the alchemical symbol for water…or it could be just an upside-down triangle for the sake of leaving room for backstage areas on a mostly rectangular property; but I digress).

I had been told that nobody was supposed to touch the table. I had heard it was cursed. I’d even heard that it had a tendency to float once in a while. I cannot vouch for any of that, but here’s what I can vouch for.

When my friend and I got to the seance room, he saw a quarter on the ground by the table. Well, by “ground,” I mean the wood grid pattern that is at floor level (it’s not a solid floor). There used to be a big gap between the Doom buggies and Madame Leota, until a guest decided to visit her and fell down into the space below.

As he approached the table, the quarter fell through the grid. The vibrations of his walking made it fall, I believe. Then he went to the table. Even in my exploratory mood, I thought that was pushing it so I stayed behind the rail with the Doom Buggies. He leaned on the table, looked at it, decided that it wasn’t that interesting, and came back.

He threw one leg over the railing, and as soon as his second leg was over the Doom Buggies started moving. Obviously there is a camera in the seance room, and I can’t imagine a ride operator starting the omnimovers up with us in there.

The pant leg on his left, the first leg he had planted on the Doom Buggy side, got caught under one of the vehicles, and started dragging him. I can honestly say that I didn’t think it was possible to take pants off as fast as he did, but he got out of them. As soon as he did, the ride stopped moving.

He yanked his pants back from the clutches of the Almost-For-Real-This-Time Doom Buggy, and we booked it out of there.

I told this story to some coworkers during my 2nd stint at Disneyland, years later. They laughed about it and said I was nuts (I can’t say I blame them, since I would have trouble believing in ghosts without my personal experiences). They invited me into the mansion with them for an exploration.

Given my previous experience, plus the fact that it had become a terminable offense, I declined.

The next day, only one of the expedition crew showed up to work. People call in sick all the time, especially if they partied the night before, so I took it for granted that they had hung out late and maybe drank a little too much.

The one who came in, however, talked to me later in the day. As a joke, they went over to Madame Leota’s table and rubbed their hands and arms all over it, saying something like “Ohh, look, I’m touching the cursed table! Ken would be freaking out!” The one who showed up the next day didn’t do it.

Turns out they all had really bad rashes on their hands and arms when they woke up that morning.

As always, you can rationalize the story all you want. You may very well come up with logical explanations. But for me, I will always consider the haunted Mansion at Disneyland to be truly haunted.

I actually heard about Mr. One Way for the first time after I was no longer at Disneyland. I do remember walking by the backstage entrance that leads to the ladies’ locker room and having someone tell me there was a ghost in there, but I never got details until after my time.

Same goes for Disco Debbie, but you did remind me of Debbie Stone, a Cast Member who was killed in America Sings back in 1974 (when I was born, incidentally). Word is that she still haunts the building, now home of Innoventions. I won’t get into the backstory here, since you are probably familiar with it (if not, it’s easy to find on Google).

Before the ODV office moved to the west side of the park, it used to be a small room behind, but connected to, the America Sings building (as it was called then). I can attest to the fact that sometimes, when in the office, the temperature would suddenly drop. A lot. Not a “the air conditioner just kicked in” kind of chill, but a sudden 15º-20º drop. We would always say something along the lines of “well, Debbie’s here.”

I once snooped around in the tunnel under Tomorrowland (it runs from behind Innoventions to Tomorrowland Terrace for deliveries, also houses a break room, trash compacter (it STINKS down there), and the lowered stage from Tomorrowland Terrace. It also has a room where the gears are to turn the Carousel of Progress/America Sings/Innoventions building.

I had heard from another adventurer that there were bloodstains on the gears that turn the building. They would be cleaned off, but reappear. I wanted to see for myself. I went to the room where the gears are. There was a sign on the door saying “Unauthorized Personnel KEEP OUT.” There was also a sliding panel on the door (like old nightclubs where the goon would slide it open and say, “What’s the password?”).

I loved my job, and didn’t want to get fired over something like this. Sure, it was late and nobody was around, but who knew if there were cameras in there? An alarm on the door? A motion sensor? Too many possibilities, so I chickened out on going in. I did, however, slide the panel over. It’s amazing how much air suddenly sucked past me and into that small space. It’s almost like it’s a vacuum in that room.

Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely convinced that the air movement was just a product of the air conditioners and vents, and the sudden change in air pressure when I opened a space into a room that I’m sure isn’t opened too often. Still, if was kind of creepy at the time.

I’ve got another Disneyland ghost story, but I don’t want to wear anyone out. If I don’t post it in the next couple of days send me a friendly reminder that I owe you one more.

Thanks for the question…I rarely get these!

Disneyland has a lot of well-documented haunts and origins thereof (ashes of a loved one spread in the Haunted Mansion, little girl who was lost on Tom Sawyer’s Island never to be seen again…except as a ghost, kid who died on the PeopleMover on Grad Night, etc.), so I’m a bit surprised that I haven’t been able to track down the story behind what I experienced.

I used to work in Outdoor Vending. Most carts are brought back to a main warehouse each night for cleaning, but the popcorn carts are much harder to move (they are lighter, but are much harder to steer and there’s a lot more to disconnect than a power cord) so they stay in the park each night.

Since they aren’t brought back to be cleaned, the vendor who closes the cart has to clean it on stage. Naturally, sometimes vendors just want to go home after a long day, and don’t do a very good job. At the end of the day, someone goes out to “close the park,” which in vending-speak means to inspect the carts and make sure they were cleaned properly (this person also has to finish the job if it wasn’t done, but the closing vendor will get in trouble for not doing it themselves next time they work).

This was one of my favorite jobs, because I got to walk around a nearly-empty Disneyland. About 45 minutes to an hour after the park closed, I would head out to close the park. I would usually start in Toontown…guests are still in the park, so I wanted to start where the crowds were gone. Then the cart by It’s A Small World, the Matterhorn, Tomorrowland, then back through Fantasyland to Frontierland (Main Street would still have too many people). Then after Frontierland and New Orleans Square, I would head back to Main Street, where I usually met the vendor as they were finishing up their cleaning.

That was a roundabout way to tell you why I was walking along Big Thunder Trail from Fantasyland to Frontierland one night at around 2:00AM when it was very dark and nobody was around…more or less.

Where most of Disneyland has area music in the background, this area has sounds playing of crickets, birds, frogs, coyotes, and other wilderness sounds. I had heard it so much that I knew when to expect each sound, if I was paying attention to it. So when I heard my name whispered in the dark, it stood out…I’d never heard anything in those sounds that sounded like “Ken.”

I turned towards the sound of the whisper, and didn’t see anybody. I shrugged it off as my imagination and kept going. After a few seconds, it came again, slightly louder than a whisper this time. “Ken!”

It sounded like it was someone speaking to me from about five feet away, behind me and a little to the right. I turned, and once again there wasn’t anyone there. I knew I had heard something this time, so I wasn’t as quick to dismiss it and move along. Thinking a coworker was messing around, I got out my flashlight and started searching. I wasn’t quite to the bridge across from the abandoned mine train tunnel, and the only possible hiding place was in the foliage to my right.

I searched around, and didn’t see anyone, nor did I hear anyone moving through the plants (which are numerous there). The nearest fake rock with a hinge where someone could open it up to hide with a water pump was still well ahead of me.

After a couple minutes, I gave up and decided that, once again, I was hearing things. I turned off my flashlight and started back towards the hill down to the Mark Twain Dock. I hadn’t taken two steps when, right at my ear, there was the sound of my name being shouted. “KEN!”

A quick glance showed nobody there, and I ran like the pirate being chased by the large lady in Pirates of the Caribbean, except not in circles. I made a beeline for the popcorn cart that was on the Golden Horseshoe side of the Mark Twain Dock, where things were well-lit and other Cast Members were around. I still wasn’t sure what had just happened.

So I finished my rounds of the popcorn wagons, looking over my shoulder once in a while, but I didn’t see or hear anything odd after getting off Big Thunder Trail.

I went back to our warehouse behind the Disneyland RR’s New Orleans Square Station. One of my good friends was working that night and I pulled him aside and told him the story. He went kind of pale, and said “You too?”

Apparently I’m not the only one who’s been called on that trail. I only spoke to three others who heard their names at night there, so I’m not sure how well-known the story is. I think I told it once before on here, but I don’t have a large following.

For the skeptics: Yes, I realize that it’s possible that this was a prank. If so, however, my normally loud and rowdy coworkers suddenly became ninjas to pull it off unseen and unheard as they moved. Plus, at 2:00 in the morning, the closers usually kind of want to finish up and go home, and everything got done on time that night.

So yes, I am a believer in the hauntings of Disneyland, and (after reading the earlier post about George), at Walt Disney World. I tend to look at things with a skeptical eye and not believe every story I hear, but it’s easier to believe when you’ve experienced something out of the ordinary yourself.