Last night, we were talking about premises for ghost stories. The group came up with two great ones, I thought. One is where a family goes out to investigate one of the stories from A City of Ghosts, not realizing they’re fake, and they are somehow killed and become ghosts in that spot. The other is a situation like I had last week, where the cop came by to tell me that the library is haunted, but it would turn out that there’s no ghost at all in the library. The ghost is the cop, trying to scare the people in his building out of going to the library and, instead, just hanging out all the time in his building with him. I find the thought of having to haunt where you work to be extra depressing. God, it makes you feel for the Chapel Hill lights, doesn’t it? Doomed to spend eternity walking the railroad tracks.
Chris Wage has a picture of the building at 4th and Broadway I have always wondered about. You know how there’s a whole first floor to Chattanooga now hidden under the streets, because they raised the city sometime after the Civil War? We don’t, as far as I know, have anything so dramatic here in Nashville, but something about the side of this building makes me feel like the building and the street used to have a different relationship to each other. It’s not just the bizarro heights of the windows, but how the decorative detailing ends on a stone block in one case and not on the other. I think the street may have been made slightly less steep over the years. But the ghost of the old street is still with us.