Ghosts of Greystone - Beverly Hills: Dramatic Eyewitness Accounts

By Clete Keith

Clete Keith's Ghosts of Greystone – Beverly Hills is not just a book of 237 ghost stories, but a landmark exposé of eyewitness accounts detailing paranormal activity associated with this extraordinary location. Clete Keith spent three years interviewing and researching the supernatural activity at the estate. With 86 interviews, Ghosts of Greystone - Beverly Hills promises you riveting history and ghostly encounters associated with this extraordinary location.

“Ghosts of Greystone – Beverly Hills is a terrific read. Incredibly well written and researched account of one of the most haunted buildings in Hollywood history. Clete is now clearly the most knowledgeable expert on this building's dark history as well as its stunning beauty. A must read if you love great ghost tales.”
—Patty Jenkins, Motion Picture Director, Wonder Woman 1984, Wonder Woman, Monster.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clete Keith
• Release date: Oct 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781733155922

Book preview

Murder

PREFACE

In the 1960s, my great uncle, Wes, was living with his wife, Margie, in a small cottage by the sea in Cambria, California. Riddled with cancer, Wes slipped out of their bed late one night while Margie slept. He grabbed his .22 caliber rifle, sat down on the front porch facing the ocean and shot himself in the head. How’s that for an opening story? If it piqued your interest, you’re in for one heck of a ride.

Years later in the 1970s, Margie had a stroke and was placed in a nursing home. My mother and father drove up from Los Angeles to pack Aunt Margie’s belongings, clean her cottage, and sell it to pay for her care. During the garage cleanup, they heard three loud knocks at the front door. My dad went to see who was there. The front stoop was empty. He figured it was probably kids playing a prank. They continued cleaning and again heard three loud knocks. This time, Dad hurried to check. Again, nothing. Back in the garage he asked my mother, You heard that, right? Emphatically, my mother said, Of course I did. Clearly, he was ready to leave, Let’s get the hell out of here. And they left. My dad didn’t want to know who or what it was. I think he had an idea—and that idea was unsettling. Mom was convinced it was Wes. That didn’t seem to frighten her and, in fact, years later, there were times she felt she could see and feel spirits on the other side. Their story of that mysterious knocking was the first time I’d heard anything about ghosts, spirits, hauntings, or someone trying to connect from the other side.

The second incident informing me about the possibilities of ghosts happened in the late 1970s. I was traveling with other actors while performing a play and became friendly with an actress named Pam. One day she invited me over to her apartment in Beverly Hills to have a glass of wine and chat. I grabbed my guitar and headed over. Her apartment was beautifully furnished with a piano and a large sofa with an accompanying coffee table. There were candles lit and placed throughout the living room. One large candle on the coffee table had a fancy clear glass housing. It was all very refined. It was like an apartment set in a movie. We enjoyed the wine and talked about our play and various acting techniques. At one point in the conversation she suddenly informed me that her apartment was haunted.

Now, at this point in my life, I knew of only one ghost experience: the story above passed down from my Mom and Dad. Pam started detailing her experiences one after another. I woke up one night to find a woman standing at the foot of my bed. She was solid and smiling down at me. Of course, I’m wondering if her story is legitimate or not. What did she look like? I asked. Pam told me she was wearing a long white dress. Also at this point in my life, I didn’t know much about ghosts if anything, but that description sure sounded like the typical ghost answer. In fact, I was waiting for her to say, Then her eyes turned red, she floated above me and howled like a demon! I asked Pam, Did you freak out? She shook her head calmly. No, the woman was comforting in a way. I wasn’t scared. It was a friendly vibration. I went back to sleep. Went back to sleep? I tell you what, if I woke up and saw a ghost woman hanging out at the end of my bed in the dead of night, I think I’d vibrate something out into the back end of my pajamas!

But Pam wasn’t done with her stories. I had a friend over one night and we both heard the piano play by itself, she said. Oh boy, here we go. This is yet another typical ghost story—I woke up and there’s a candelabra on the piano and Liberace is playing while sipping a spritzer. I asked her, What song was being played? Pam said that it wasn’t a song, just some notes. At this point, I’m just going along with it. Who knows what’s real and what isn’t? I was trying hard not to be judgmental. Pam is a very intelligent person. We start smoking some weed and she breaks out a book entitled Seth Speaks. She starts elaborating on how Seth channels spirits. I’m high, also buzzed from the wine, and suddenly realize I’m in over my head. I’m staring at the cover of Seth Speaks with this freaky lady supposedly channeling. Her mouth is slightly open, and her eyes are staring off into the great beyond. I’m uncomfortable, I’m high, and in typical twenty-three-year-old know it all fashion, I start making fun of the woman who showed up in her bedroom. Doesn’t she have anything better to do than to watch you sleep? Pam is smiling, but not responding. I’m not done. And as far as the piano goes, did you open the top to see if there were any mice inside with top hats doing some high kicks on the strings? I finish with a wise guy smirk. Again, no response. I take one last look at the book cover. And what the hell happened to her? She looks like she ate some bad shrimp. Pam waits a long moment to answer. You shouldn’t make fun of the ghosts. I try and reassure her that I’m not making fun of them as I hold up the book. But seriously, look at her face. Suddenly the glass housing around the large candle explodes! I mean, it completely shatters the glass. Pam is frozen, staring at the candle as it keeps burning. She looks over to me. She’s horrified. I’m high as a kite and my heart is racing. Pam manages to utter, That’s never happened before, as she’s fixated on the shards of broken glass. Now, did I mention that I’m high? I’m all tingly and I feel my ass pucker up in fear. Not a good combination now that the weed has really kicked in. I manage to stand up, grab my guitar, offer Pam some gibberish-like reassurance, and bolt out the door. As I drive away into a spinning L.A. night, I’m imagining Pam fending off her lady in white, the dancing mice, and the constipated-looking spirit channeler spitting up shrimp.

My third and final paranormal incident happened when my mother was almost eighty years old and dying from Parkinson’s disease. Mom was an actress and we moved her into the Motion Picture & Television Fund home for full-time care. She initially shared a room with a woman named Peggy—the mother of a well-known actor. Mom and Peggy became friends. Unfortunately, Peggy was declining fast. Eventually, Mom was moved into her own room. I arrived to visit Mom and all the nurses were busy, running around more than usual. I asked at the nurses’ station what was going on. Peggy just died. I asked her if she contacted her son. She nodded and said he was on his way—but the nurse seemed confused. She looked at me and I could see she wanted to tell me something. I asked the nurse if everything was okay. She shook her head, No. Something is weird. The nurses’ station keeps getting a call from the phone next to Peggy’s bed. It rings and when I pick it up, there’s no one there. I had our telephone technician come out and check and everything is fine. I don’t understand what’s happening.

I had a feeling I knew exactly what was going on. And strangely, I also felt the nurse knew but didn’t want to say it out loud because that might make it real. I pushed the envelope a bit: Well, you know what this is, don’t you? She just stared at me, and then finally, It’s Peggy. I said, She’s still in the room and doesn’t know she’s passed. She’s confused, so she’s calling the front desk for help. The nurse kept shaking her head. No. No. Don’t say that. I don’t want to hear that. No.

I walked into Peggy’s room. Her body had been removed by this time. I moved close to her bed. Hi, Peggy. You’ve passed, honey. You’re out of the body. You need to go to the light. Look up in the corner of the room and you will see a white light. Go to that light. You’ll be okay. You’re loved. Just go to the light. I stood there and said a silent prayer. When Peggy’s son and wife arrived, they spent some time with the nurses getting the details and they eventually left. I went to see the nurse again and asked, Still getting calls from her bed? She shook her head. No. It stopped ringing. I smiled and went to visit Mom.

Flash forward to the late 1990s. The City of Beverly Hills hired me to work in the Recreation and Parks division, now known as Community Services. My assignments included helping with special events such as the Beverly Hills Art Show and Winter Wonderland—a snow event where we would blow one hundred tons of shaved ice on ramps in a lush city park (after all, this is palm tree populated Beverly Hills!). In 2003, my role expanded to include helping with the Park Ranger program. Part of my duties was to assist with various events as well as help oversee motion picture filming and still photography shoots in and around the famous Greystone Mansion—a Tudor revival estate surrounded by distinctive Italian Renaissance-inspired gardens.

I shared an office in the gatehouse, a small building at the south end of the Greystone Park property. At that time, I knew nothing of Greystone’s history or of the paranormal activity connected with the estate. My parents’ story of that mysterious knocking, my evening with the exploding candle, and the story of Peggy’s departure was light years ago and I’d never given it another thought. But as the years passed, Greystone staff, City employees, as well as patrons of the park would occasionally tell me their stories of spirits and odd occurrences in and around the mansion.

Our office constantly fielded calls from numerous Hollywood movie and television production companies interested in filming paranormal reality shows at Greystone. The stories of strange activity in the mansion had become legendary, thanks in part to the internet that is now chock-full of ghostly stories about the Greystone estate and Doheny Mansion. As a result, there was no shortage of production companies and visitors wanting to spend the night performing investigations. All those calls were referred to me. My direction then, and still to this day, is to say, No… no filming overnight at this location. Trucks rolling in and filming all night with noisy equipment and crews chattering simply doesn’t sit well with the gazillionaire neighbors who pay a huge amount in taxes and expect privacy and quiet nights. Also, the City of Beverly Hills doesn’t want to draw attention to the notorious murder/suicide that took place inside the mansion. Murder? Suicide? Yep.

In fact, that particular bloody incident has always been the fuel of paranormal fire at Greystone. When people visit the park and mansion and ask about the incident, our instructions are, DON’T discuss it! Obviously, I can’t feign ignorance and say, What murders? Instead I say, Ned and his secretary, Hugh, did die in the mansion, but the specific details as to why are still not clear and probably never will be. Then I quickly redirect them to the incredible and sprawling views of Los Angeles.

In all my time at the mansion, I’ve never had someone come up to me and say, I see this 46,000 square foot mansion was built in the English Tudor style. Can you elaborate a bit about the neoclassic and Gothic architecture? Never. Not once. Nada. But guess what is the number one question I’ve been asked over the years: Is this place haunted? Followed closely by the usual litany of queries, Are there ghosts in the mansion?—Have you seen or heard things?—Is it scary inside?—Do you have any proof that spirits actually exist in there? And of course, Where are the restrooms?

Having spent more than twenty years at Greystone, I’ve been paranormally educated about the property by events that have happened to myself, co-workers, former City staff, and visitors from various walks of life. Many people have stories, some incredible, and those stories bring forth even more valid questions.

One early morning in November of 2017, with my retirement looming, I prayed for guidance to transition to the next chapter of my life. I awoke suddenly at 3:00 a.m. (also known as dead time in many paranormal circles) and the idea came to me that I should journal all the mysterious experiences and stories I’ve been told since working at Greystone. I gazed into the darkness, recalling my tours of the mansion, the strange incidents, and the countless unearthly stories—and then it hit me: write a book! That way, those of us who have worked at Greystone will have our solid documentation recorded, and the visitors who’ve experienced these peculiar happenings will know that their stories are forever detailed in these pages. Also, for those captivated by this amazing and historic location, but can’t visit in person, this book will shed some intriguing light on what’s really taking place within the confines of this bygone and erstwhile estate.

The truth lies in the following pages, as told by the people who lived it, in their own words. These folks are eyewitnesses to Greystone’s lively paranormal activity. No hearsay, but rather all real events. What you’re about to experience are the actual accounts from more than eighty-five people totaling nearly three hundred stories.

Finally, it’s time for you to be the judge. So wait for the dead of night, pour yourself a warm cup of tea, find a quiet dark room and a comfortable chair, turn on a single reading light, and slowly turn to chapter one… I dare you!

—Clete Keith

Santa Monica, Fall 2020

INTRODUCTION

Having committed to writing about the strange phenomena at Greystone, I wanted Ghosts of Greystone—Beverly Hills to reveal this amazing location like no other. My intention is to share the ghost stories I gleaned from hours upon hours of extensive interviews, while also providing the reader with a brief background of the infamous family that occupied these extraordinary and historic grounds. It is my intention that the historical information will shed important contextual light on how influential and affluent the Doheny family was, especially in the 1920s and 1930s.

Let us delve into the history of the Doheny family and examine what might be the possible causes for what has been regarded as paranormal activity at the Greystone Estate.

A (VERY) BRIEF HISTORY

In 1892, Edward Laurence Doheny, and his friend, Charles Canfield, were the first to discover oil in the City of Angels. They seized an opportunity to venture down to Tampico, Mexico, and on February 9, 1916, struck oil at one site that eclipsed the production of all the other wells in the nearby fields combined, making Doheny’s company the largest producer of oil worldwide—and making Edward Doheny one of the wealthiest men in the world. Among the many real estate acquisitions that he and his wife, Carrie Estelle Betzold, purchased were the 429 acres that became the Doheny Ranch, which is now part of Beverly Hills proper.

Edward gave a 12.58-acre parcel to his son, Ned, and wife, Lucy, as a wedding gift. On February 15, 1927, construction began on the 46,054 square foot, 55-room Greystone Mansion, at a cost of $1,238,378.00, bringing the total cost of the land and estate to $3,166,578.00 (equal to approximately $46 million in 2020). In its time, Greystone was known as the Hearst Castle of Southern California. Ned, Lucy, and their five children, Lucy, Edward (Larry), William, Patrick, and Timothy, moved into the mansion in September of 1928. Less than five months later, Ned would be lying dead on the floor of his new home.

■ What We Know… or Think We Know

On the night of February 16, 1929, Ned and his secretary and friend, Hugh Plunkett, were involved in a spirited discussion that turned deadly. The facts remain sketchy to this day, but in all likelihood, the events that took place on this evening were the result of mounting pressure from the Teapot Dome scandal.

In the 1920s, Albert Fall—the Secretary of the Interior under President Warren G. Harding—secretly leased the federal oil reserves of the infamous Teapot Dome oilfields (35 miles north of Casper, Wyoming) to oil tycoon Harry F. Sinclair of the Mammoth Oil Company. Fall also secretly leased the Elk Hills and Buena Vista Hills oil reserves in the San Joaquin Valley of California to Edward L. Doheny (Pan American Petroleum Company). Doheny sent his son, Ned, and his trusted friend and employee, Hugh Plunkett, to New York to deliver $100,000 to Fall as a loan (read: gift), which also gave Doheny access to the Department of the Interior’s naval oil reserves worth $100 million. The subsequent US Senate inquiry into the leases concluded that Sinclair and Doheny’s so-called loans were indeed bribes and further government probes were launched to expose the unfolding scandal. Both Ned and Hugh were due to testify. Hugh was extremely distressed about the situation and believed he was a prime candidate to take the fall for Doheny. On the evening of February 16, 1929, Hugh arrived at Greystone, secured a weapon from the Gun Room, and confronted Ned.

Clark Fogg, former Senior Forensic Specialist at the Beverly Hills Police Department Crime Lab, describes in Beverly Hills Confidential: A Century of Stars, Scandals and Murder, what he believed took place on that fateful night: It’s quite possible Hugh Plunkett didn’t intend to kill his boss. The tragedy may have been an accidental murder/suicide. An examination of the crime scene images taken that night of the incident suggests that an emotionally charged conversation ensued between Plunkett and Doheny. A possible scenario: since the firearm was a Colt Bisley single-action revolver (single-action revolvers require less trigger-pull than double-action firearms), as Plunkett pointed the firearm at Doheny, it could have accidentally discharged. With Doheny falling out of the chair and blood gushing from his head wound, Plunkett decided to end all outside pressures by ending his life as Mrs. Doheny and the doctor approached him in the hallway outside the guest bedroom.

The case, which was open and shut in forty-eight hours, was found to be a murder-suicide in which Hugh Plunkett went berserk and killed his benefactor. End of story. But certainly not the end of the story as far Greystone Mansion was concerned.

Teapot Dome Scandal—Postscript: The Supreme Court declared the leases fraudulent and illegally acquired. The Court invalidated the leases and they were returned to the US Navy. Albert Fall was convicted of conspiracy and accepting bribes and sentenced to one year in prison—the first presidential cabinet member to go to prison. Doheny and Sinclair were not convicted of paying the bribes, although Sinclair was convicted of jury tampering. Prior to the Watergate scandal, the Teapot Dome Scandal was regarded as the most sensational political disgrace in American history.

■ More Tragedies

Unfortunately, there were more unnatural deaths in and around Greystone. A woman servant killed herself inside the mansion’s meat locker on the second floor of the servants’ wing, near the kitchen. She slit her wrists in the meat locker so her blood would go directly down the built-in drain, making sure that fellow workers and friends wouldn’t have to clean up after her. This story was considered a rumor when I started working at Greystone, and I had no way of verifying it. That is, until Steven Clark, a retired Park Ranger Supervisor, revealed to me that back in 2001, a woman visited the grounds and told him that her grandmother had worked at the mansion as a maid. Without any further prompting, she proceeded to tell Clark that her grandmother was a close friend of the maid who had committed suicide inside the meat locker.

A second servant was said to have been impregnated out of wedlock by someone on the property during a time when it was very shameful to do so. Being shunned by society, not to mention that this was a very Catholic household, she hanged herself in a room in the servants’ wing.

Another verified death was a triangle love affair between Doheny mansion employees: a family driver, another male staff person, and a female staff person, which resulted in the woman’s murder by strangulation. The police report states that she was wrapped in a carpet and removed from the mansion through the servants’ wing door.

A young girl who was a friend of the Doheny daughter, Lucy, fell to her death from Lucy’s second floor room window onto the terrace. (Other sightings in this book might shed light on a different story of her demise.)

A distraught man committed suicide on the property in 2003 by shooting himself in the head. I witnessed his body still seated in place on a bench near the willow pond, just minutes after he ended his life.

We don’t know very much about the construction of the mansion outside of the practical: the architect was Gordon Kaufmann and the builder was P.J. Walker and Company of San Francisco. But there are rumors and unanswered questions that continue to swirl. Did anyone die during the time it was being built? What about the land on which Greystone sits, and all the countless lives possibly lost on this property dating back hundreds of years? (Indigenous burial grounds are recorded in the nearby Hollywood Hills and surrounding areas.) On these counts, the jury is still out.

■ Is Greystone Mansion Haunted?

The question remains: did these tragedies set in motion any kind of paranormal activity? There are many books and articles that discuss this historic location, but not one focuses on the ghostly and spectral events. Why? Perhaps the topic is taboo. Or much is based on hearsay. Or there’s a lack of evidence. People are quick to say there are no such things as ghosts. Possibly they’re not prepared to believe if they haven’t seen it with their own eyes. Religion also plays a part. I understand all these opposing points of view. Boy, do I understand. I hear them all the time.

But, if Greystone is haunted, WHERE’S THE PROOF? And maybe, just as important, WHY IS IT HAUNTED? Was it spawned by the bloodshed that took place on that fatal night of February 16, 1929? Like a lightning rod, it signaled, dare I say, beckoned, the spirits to engulf the mansion? Or were they already there, waiting to wield their influence? Did the spirits manipulate people to behave in certain ways, shaping the circumstances that led to all the brutal deaths at this location?

■ Theories

One belief is that places like Greystone are haunted because spirits are drawn to locations where they experienced an intense emotional event during their physical life. The emotional trauma or joy solidifies their connection to that exact time and place, whether it’s good experiences drawing them back to a happy time, or a horrific incident that forces them to relive a tragedy or disturbing ordeal repeatedly.

■ A Portal. Huh?

Could Greystone be the site of a portal—a spiritual highway used by spirits to enter a specific location? A ghost door, so to speak. It is said that battlefields, hospitals, and locations where violent acts (such as murder and plunder) have occurred can form a portal. Two well-known psychics, Peter James and Chris Fleming, entered the mansion a decade apart, pointed to the exact same location and said, Do you know you have a portal here? All I will say is that over the years I have taken some amazingly bizarre and strange photographs in that specific area—and I’ve experienced some interesting interactions to say the least.

HOW TO NAVIGATE THIS BOOK

After much consideration, I finally decided the best way to disclose the paranormal events that have taken place in and around this large eighteen-acre property was to break down the locations into chapters. Each section of the mansion and grounds will have interviews related to that specific location and will include descriptions that will help you recreate the ambience of that particular setting. In the appendix there are floor plans for each of the mansion’s four floors, plus a map with an overview of the estate grounds to provide you with the big picture.

Offering great historical context, the Greystone Historical Report was written at the request of the Beverly Hills City Council, and delivered to the council on August 30, 1984. It is a fifteen-part history of the Greystone Estate and the Doheny Ranch. This report comprises information about the Doheny family, the purchase of the 429-acre property, the construction of the mansion and its grounds in the late 1920s, a description of the mansion and its grounds upon their completion in 1928, and intriguing glimpses of the Doheny family’s lifestyle at Greystone. Also included are comments by Ned Doheny’s youngest son, Timothy, as well as Sam Schultz, who was Mrs. Battson’s (née Lucy Doheny) chauffeur for more than 50 years (Ned’s wife, Lucy Doheny, changed her last name when she married her second husband, Leigh Battson, in 1932). Very few people are aware of this edifying document, let alone have read the full report. I’ve selected pertinent aspects of this report allowing you to peek behind the curtain to get a feel for the family and the property.

I’ve spent many hours interviewing the people whose stories appear in this book, doing my best to organize their conversations and take into account their attempt to explain the unexplainable. In the case of interviewees who were Hispanic and did not speak English, I used interpreters to help me through my questioning process, and I adjusted the wording, when required, for a better translation.

For authenticity, I brought as many witnesses who were willing, back to the exact location where they had their experience. Whether inside the mansion or on the grounds, this helped most interviewees to recall their incident, especially if it happened years ago. It also seemed to heighten their senses and emotions, being back at the scene of the so-called crime.

You’ll find many of the stories are from past and present Park Rangers—individuals who over the years have had the most access to the mansion. At some point during their shifts, rangers will enter the mansion for any number of reasons, from security sweeps to checking on events, and trust me, there are some who go inside and get out as fast as possible. All the stories in this book—with the exception of the one that happened to me—are based on interactions I’ve had with fellow city workers, film crews, guests, and patrons.

FINAL THOUGHTS

From the book’s inception, I knew there would be individuals who would be reticent about coming forward to tell their stories and would not be comfortable divulging their names. In those cases, I’ve respected their wishes and not disclosed their identities. There were some individuals who refused to speak to me at all, and I took their reluctance as an indication that their stories were most likely true, or why else would they stay silent? When that was the case, those stories have been told from a third person perspective, as are also stories told to me by an interviewee about a person I couldn’t track down or is no longer alive. I contacted several police officers and a district attorney for their personal stories. All refused to talk to me except for one Beverly Hills police officer who agreed to meet me at Greystone mansion to relive his encounter, but only if I did not reveal his name.

I’m thrilled to share with you these personal accounts about this iconic location. I have held on to many of these stories for years, waiting for the right situation to divulge these exhilarating experiences. This book is that situation. Over the years, when I talk to people I meet at Greystone about some of the paranormal narratives, I receive the furrowing of a brow, or worse, a slight smile of condolence in fear that my screws have indeed come loose. I can’t tell you how many people say to me, I’d love to spend the night inside the mansion! To those people, I say, this book will be your best opportunity.

So let’s enter the gate at 501 Doheny Road…we’ll take it nice and slow… and if you think you see dark shadows lurking, or hear the hooves of a horse pulling a stagecoach approaching, or hear someone or something whisper, Get out!—try not to panic… it’s just the Ghosts of Greystone.

Chapter 1

Grand Entry

I’m like freaking out and I’m still tingling and I’m just like, Okay, you’re crazy, it’s in your head. Then I look at my arm and it’s got a red scratch on it!

— RANGER M.M.

GREYSTONE PARK RANGER

Many motion pictures and television shows have been filmed in this iconic entryway, including Spider-Man and Spider-Man 3, The Social Network, The Disorderly Orderly, National Treasure: Book of Secrets, Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, Rock Star, All of Me starring Steve Martin and directed by Carl Reiner, The Golden Child starring Eddie Murphy, The Loved One, The Gilmore Girls, Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties, and last but not least, the most fitting of them all: Ghostbusters 2.

Walking into the Grand Entry, you’re immediately awestruck by the elegance of the architecture. You pause to take in the beauty—the elaborate detail of the woodwork on the bannisters and archways, all hand carved by European artisans. The work is magnificent.

Greystone Historical Report

The mansion’s interior displays this same pleasing mix of good proportion, exquisite craftsmanship, grandeur, yet intimacy. Located beneath a porte-cochere, the double front doors were plate glass covered with a hand wrought iron grillwork, which displayed the initials ELD. These doors opened into the stair landing. To the right, a set of stairs led to the second floor. Most visitors, however, descended the broad grand stairway to the first floor hallway, which ran the full length of the mansion, roughly east to west.

While grand and imposing, children will be children. Especially young boys. They looked at the marble stairs as the perfect angle for their new ride. They would grab whatever they felt would race down the stairs the fastest and jump onboard. Screams of joy and laughter must have filled these halls as they slid down their homemade rollercoaster—until mom caught wind of what was going on.

Greystone Historical Report

We used to slide down the grand staircase, the big stairway near the front door, on suitcases and cardboard boxes, whatever would slide.

—Timothy Doheny

The Grand Entry, with its beautiful and striking features, turned out to be a very peculiar location when it came to interviewing the eyewitnesses. It proved to be one of the most active areas in the mansion in terms of paranormal activity. I kept wondering why. Is it because the interviewees are coming into their home? It was as if the visitors were being checked out by the spirits. It was common during the interview process that witnesses would take a deep breath as they crossed the threshold into the Grand Entry as if their original experience from a day ago, a week ago, or even decades ago, still brought a chill to their spine.

UNSEEN LEGS

Gabriel Jara’s story is enough to give anyone chills. Ranger Gabe is quite reserved. In fact, when considering which rangers to approach regarding the mansion’s paranormal activity, Gabe was not high on the list—he’s that reserved. He never mentioned anything about spirits or the paranormal, and his daily patrols of Greystone Park didn’t allow him much time inside the mansion. I was reminded that when he was selected for the Ranger Program, he spent many hours training at Greystone. One day I took a chance and asked him if he ever witnessed any paranormal activity. A slight smile broke across his face, Several, actually. He agreed to be interviewed. We stood face-to-face in the Grand Entry as he told me his story with sincerity and urgency. By the time Gabe finished, we both had major chills.

GABRIEL JARA

(Lead Park Ranger)

Gabriel: This was after an event, around one in the morning. As we shut everything down, [co-worker and fellow Ranger] Steve Clark realizes he forgot his lunchbox in the house. He goes back inside with his flashlight and I wait for him at the front entrance. It’s pretty dark and it seems like he’s taking a lot of time. Gazing around, I look up to the second-floor landing and I suddenly see this white, I don’t know, ghost figure. He’s not wearing clothes. It is just a completely solid white figure. It looks like a man wearing a hat, a big hat—also white. I recall that very well. And all I can see is from the waist up. I can’t see his legs. Maybe he has them, maybe he doesn’t, I’m not sure. And he is looking directly at me. So right away I look down because I’m like, What did I just see? Did I really see a ghost or an evil spirit? I look up again because this can’t be real. And it was still there— looking right at me, straight at me!

Gabe takes a long pause and he had that million-mile stare that went right through me.

Gabriel: And that just scared the living hell out of me. And that’s when Steve shows up from inside the house. He was tired and couldn’t wait to leave. He alarms the house and we get out. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t. I thought, Maybe I’m just seeing things, you know? I’m dead tired, it’s my imagination. Maybe I should have looked back but I was way too scared. I’ve never told that story to anybody.

WHISPER

I discovered through the writing of this book that Ranger Juan Andrade has a strong sensitivity when it comes to the paranormal. His experiences are not confined to just the mansion. As a young boy, he remembers having visions—one particular vision was a grown-up Juan working at a very large property. I remember a beautiful garden full of hedge groves, kind of like a maze with red bricks, he tells me warmly. It was high up on a hill with no other homes visible. It was beautiful. I also remember a stream and flowing water. Juan spent many of his childhood days at the Doheny residence located at 8 Chester Place, in the historic West Adams District of Los Angeles, where his mother worked. This 10,500 square-foot mansion was purchased by Edward L. Doheny, Sr. in 1901, for $120,000—the equivalent in 2020 of nearly $4 million. Years later, when Juan visited Greystone for a tour of the mansion, the grounds looked incredibly familiar to him, like he was returning home. But he had never stepped foot in Greystone. When Juan applied for the ranger job, he realized his boyhood visions of a large property was indeed Greystone. Possibly Juan was coming home.

JUAN ANDRADE

(Park Ranger Supervisor)

Juan: It was early in the morning, maybe a quarter to seven. I open the Richie Rich gates¹ and the front door. As I walk inside, I hear what sounds like a group of people whispering. I can’t figure out what is going on. Then I hear one of the voices clearly say, He’s in the house. I stop and listen and I’m thinking, Who is in the mansion? But I don’t hear the voices anymore. I flip on the lights and disarm the security system. I walk back to the main door and wait, but I hear nothing. Like I said, when I first walked in, it sounded like a group of people were whispering very, very low. I never heard footsteps moving away. Nothing. And I’m just standing there waiting for something to happen. It’s completely quiet. I want to see if I hear anything else. There was nothing. But boy, it gave me chills.

Greystone Historical Report

Right by the front door, there was a night watchman. And of course, there was a gatekeeper. There were people on duty all the time. That was during the Lindbergh thing [the kidnapping and subsequent death of Charles Lindbergh’s infant son in 1932]. There were threatening notes and letters and things. Phone calls. But nothing really happened.

—Timothy Doheny

TOUCHED BY A SPIRIT

From the look on Chanh Hang’s face as he told me the following story, it’s clear that the incident still haunts him to this day. Chanh is a man of great integrity and I have no reason to doubt him, especially when you read my story after this one. The incident in question took place on a Friday night after a performance of The Manor—a staged play that’s performed in the mansion—loosely based on the trials and tribulations of the Doheny family. When the show was over, Ranger Chanh checked to make sure everyone was out of the building and he continued with his regular routine. But on this night, it was anything but routine.

CHANH HANG

(Lead Park Ranger)

Chanh: Normally, working the play is always the same for me. When it’s over, I make one last round to make sure no one is in the mansion. I arm the alarm panel, turn the sconces off, and I’m gone. Simple. But this night was different. When I go to leave, I twist the doorknob to the left, which is normal—but the door won’t open. Then with more force, I turn it and push again. I can’t get the door to budge.

Chanh shakes his head, still not believing what took place.

Chanh: At that moment, to my left side, like from the top of my head, I feel someone run their fingers lightly down to my ear and then off my shoulder. I still can’t get the door open! I just freaked out! Suddenly the door opens up like I was now being allowed to exit! I quickly step out and close the door behind me. I grab my flashlight and shine it through that wrought iron and glass door. I see nothing. I try to calm myself down. I open the door, stick my flashlight inside and shine it toward the stairwell to make sure no physical being is there. Then I realize, The alarm! I have to disarm it before it goes off! Deep breath and I go inside towards the alarm panel. I’m still facing the stairwell. I shine my flashlight everywhere just to make sure. Nothing. I disarm the panel. It’s totally quiet. I scan the second-floor stairs down to the bottom with the light. Nothing. I’m still freaked out trying to figure out what touched me. The alarm pad says it’s ready to arm again. I arm the mansion, still facing the stairs. It’s totally silent as I move away slowly over to the front door. Now my back is to the door. I reach behind me, turn the doorknob, and slowly walk out backwards, closing the door. I never heard a voice. I never saw anything. Just felt fingers down my head and off my shoulders. The mansion is now armed and I slowly backed away.

STILL SHOOK UP

CLETE KEITH

Ranger Chanh’s story corroborates my experience with a visiting Australian family. I was leaving for the day when I passed a family—father, mother, a daughter maybe fourteen, and a son around twelve. I overheard the dad say, "There Will Be Blood was filmed here." I stopped and asked if they had any questions and we chatted for a few minutes. They were so interested in Greystone, I decided to walk them into the bowling alley to show them where scenes of Paul Thomas Anderson’s movie had been shot. They were overjoyed and so appreciative that I decided to treat them to a tour of the rest of the mansion. I told them about the history of the Doheny family along with some of the paranormal stories.

Here are my recollections after the tour:

We are back at the front door of the Grand Entry. I begin to act out Ranger Chanh’s story and describe the creepy way he was touched. When I was done, we say goodbye and the daughter hurries out first, followed by the rest of the family. After closing up and