The St. James Hotel in Cimarron, NM is one of the more famous haunted hotels in the U.S. Its history dates back to the 1800's, and it is steeped in Wild West lore and legend, for such legendaries as Annie Oakley, Buffalo Bill Cody, Jesse James, and Doc Holiday were known to have lodged there. It is also steeped in late nineteenth-century Wild West Violence.
From the twenty-two bullet holes that are still lodged in the three-inch wooden overlay above the bar's ceiling, to the ghostly perfume of the hotel founder's wife, the St. James is a hotbed of paranormal activity. It has been investigated and featured on Ghost Adventures as well as The Haunted Collector. The hotel boasts at least one room that is kept closed off to everyone, from staff to guests. And it has a ghostly cowboy who can only be seen in the mirror behind the bar.
Jim and I have friends who spent the night there, and while their experience isn't hair-raising or blood-curdling, it is definitely eerie.
Our friends are both musicians: she is a retired music teacher, he is a professional musician and producer who still travels for gigs and performances. Such was the reason for their journey to the St. James Hotel; he and his colleagues were booked to do a show there.
They had both heard that the place was haunted. She was more excited about it than he was, so while he went up to bed late that night, following the concert, she stayed downstairs and spent some time in the lobby and the bar, hoping to catch something paranormal in nature. When nothing happened for her and the hour was getting to be too late, she gave up and went to bed.
The next morning, she got up earlier than her husband and went downstairs to have breakfast, leaving him to sleep in as he usually does after a show. And that's how she missed the incident, and he had the experience she had been hoping for.
How aware he was that his wife had gotten up and left the room, I don't know. What he did tell me, however, is that he was awakened to someone knocking sharply on the bedroom door. It took him a little bit to realize what had disturbed his sleep, but the knocking came again, and he heard a voice calling out his name. So he got up, stumbled over to the door, and opened it, only to find no one there. He looked up and down the hall, left and right, and verified that nope, no one was anywhere near his room.
Confused and maybe a little annoyed at having to get up, he got dressed and went downstairs to find his wife. She was enjoying her breakfast when he came up to her and asked what she wanted. She looked at him in surprise and confusion. No, she told him. I don't need anything. And I didn't come and knock on the door. I've been down here eating. Her answer left him both astounded and perplexed.
This happened a while ago, but he can still hear what he heard that morning at the St. James Hotel: the knock, the voice. He thought it was one thing to find out that no one was waiting for him in the hall. That was strange. But I think what bothers him the most is that whoever, or whatever, stopped outside his hotel room, it knew him by name.
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