Public Domain
Pfister Hotel, 1901
Pfister Hotel, 1901
These uncanny tales of a physician who predicted his own death, the bones of a murdered prostitute, and ghostly appearances of a prominent hotelier should be avoided by the faint of heart. But are the stories of terrifying apparitions, footsteps in the middle of the night, and doors opening and closing on the level, or just great campfire stories that get better with each retelling?
On March 2, 1876, physician John Garner sensed something awful was about to happen. As the day went on, the unexplained feelings of foreboding intensified. As Dr. Garner struggled to stay calm, an Ohio woman named Sarah Wilner was on a train headed for Milwaukee. She carried with her a list of names, and Garner’s was at the top.
By dinner time, Garner was in a highly agitated state, unable to catch his breath. He thought a mild sedative might help him shake off the feeling of dread.
When Wilner’s train arrived in Milwaukee, she was driven to Garner’s home on North Jefferson Street. When the distraught doctor came to the door, Wilner raised a pistol and shot him in the chest. The terrified driver took her to an attorney and then dropped her off at the Newhall House hotel. When apprehended by police officers, Wilner said she shot Garner because he poisoned her family when they lived in Milwaukee. She said only his death would ease her pain. Dr. Garner died from the gunshot wound the following day.
Further investigation revealed that Wilner sent threatening letters to several Milwaukee physicians with a similar threat. At trial she was declared insane and remanded to a Wauwatosa asylum. Stories of the doctor’s eerie premonitions appeared in the newspapers and remained part of the city’s folklore. Was something or someone trying to warn Garner of his assassin’s murderous intentions? The answer to the mystery remains unknown.
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Grisly Discovery
In 2001, the owner of a high-priced downtown watering hole claimed to have made a grisly find in the 19th century building’s attic. During renovation, a construction crew uncovered a pile of bones concealed behind one of the walls. After a series of tests, the medical examiner determined that only half of the bones were human.
The 1894 building was first used by the Schlitz brewery to construct beer barrels. The land beneath the cooperage was an ancient cemetery where indigenous people were laid to rest. In 1926, the premises housed a speakeasy and brothel where underage women plied their trade. The operation was managed by Chicago bootlegger Frank Aiello, who lived on North Van Buren Street. His adjacent grocery store was raided by Federal agents, who recovered 31 gallons of mash, 25 gallons of moonshine and two stills. Aiello was murdered in Fresno, California in 1928.
One evening, a 16-year-old Irish prostitute recognized her customer as a well-to-do man about town as he entered her room. Not wanting it known he frequented the house of ill-fame, the mystery man murdered the young woman and hid her body behind the attic wall. Assuming the account is true, why didn’t anyone notice the acrid, unpleasant odors of methane, hydrogen sulfide and ammonia that emanate from a decomposing corpse? And if the medical examiner concluded that half the bones were human, then what were the others? Rats? In any case, journalists and other visitors have yet to report an otherworldly presence lurking on the third floor.
Haunted Hotel
Stories of footsteps in the Pfister hotel hallways, objects in guest rooms being moved from one place to another, and eerie disembodied voices are connected to inhabitants from the hotel’s early years. In November 1897, the Milwaukee Journal reported that guest James Charney was found in his room with a bullet hole in his head. An autopsy revealed that Charney had a large amount of morphine in his body at the time of death. And over the years, both guests and staff members have witnessed the gentle, courtly figure of owner Charles Pfister descending the grand staircase in the lobby.
The invaluable recollections of pioneer resident Charles Milwaukee Sivyer may lend credence to some of the tales. In 1836, Sivyer was the first white infant born in the settlement. Founder Solomon Juneau suggested Milwaukee for the child’s middle name.
Sivyer was a frequent guest speaker at the Old Settlers Club meetings, recalling homes, buildings, businesses, and personalities from the settlement’s history. He said the Pfister hotel was built in 1893 atop an old burying ground that had been there as long as he could remember. At the hotel’s groundbreaking, there was no mention of any bodies being removed to another location. Major league baseball teams have stayed at the Pfister for decades, and the various players have recounted more creepy stories than anyone else. Maybe the accounts of banging, pounding, and other inexplicable occurrences aren’t so far-fetched after all.