“I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.” –Anais Ninn

I first visited Prescott, Arizona, when I was a young girl. My parents and I stayed at the Hassayampa Inn, a 1920s-era brick building set in the heart of the historic district. The Inn is as well known for its old-world charm as it is for its ghostly history. Legend says that the very year the hotel opened, a young bride named Faith Essay took her life in the balcony suite.

From the concierge to the cooks, I recall that everyone spoke of Faith like kids with a secret to share, eyes wide, corners of their lips blooming into smiles that grew wider with each word. Those who spoke of encounters with Faith—an evening where they spied her silhouette in the hall, or an early morning in which they were startled by the sudden blare of the radio—rapt the attention of their listeners, which included me.

We visited the Inn during the holidays, when the kitchen staff hosted a gingerbread house contest. At my age, the grand lobby seemed to be brimming with endless stretches of banquet tables, topped with cookie homes in every shape and size. Taken by hand, my mom, dad, and I walked each row, admiring the intricate houses one by one.

Many were typical gingerbread homes, thick white frosting adorned in soft sugared candies and chocolates coated in colored shells. Others however were covered in black licorice, hard candies in deep cherry and mauve. White frosting, used sparingly, stood out in shapes of small ghosts peering out of windows. These were the houses I liked the most.

Like others, I have always been fascinated by ghosts. And though my perception has changed from a young girl who was once afraid to let her feet poke out from under the covers at night, I still believe in spirits. Those who have lost someone they love understand that we exude too much—too much emotion, too much energy, at times palpable as flesh—to disappear when our bodies are buried or returned to dust. Our imprints remain. In some ways, we never really leave the places we have been.

To be continued in the next post.