Christmas Ghost Story

"A sad tale's best for winter. I have one of spirits and goblins." so said Shakespeare in his play The Winter's Tale written in 1611. And in the popular Christmas song "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" they even say "there'll be scary ghost stories".   I imagine to most people, the idea of telling ghost stories during the joyous holiday season seems strange, but it's actually a tradition that predates Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol and even Shakespeare himself.  

Long ago, before Christianity took hold, the people of the world celebrated Pagan holidays.  During the winter on the longest night of the year, December 21st, it was believed that the veil between worlds was thin.  It was a time that signified death and rebirth.  And when Christianity began spreading, it also began incorporating the Pagan traditions into the Christian holidays.  Of course, Charles Dickens really got things going with his tale of the Christmas Carol and the ghost of ole Jacob Marley and the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future.  But even the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" has its own strange paranormal occurrences.

In my family, sharing ghost stories was something that happened at nearly every large gathering, and especially at Christmas when everyone near and far seemed to gather together to celebrate.  I remember spending time with my cousin enthralled  listening to the stories told by the adults.  Some were made up, but many included true life encounters of the paranormal.  I can point to this and say here is where my love of the paranormal and the love of family history (also part of the tales) began. 

So on this Christmas holiday, I want to share a true ghost story that involves my family.  Unlike most of the stories I have, this one is a little different.  It isn't about something that happened to someone.  Rather, it involves someone from my grandfather and great uncle's past who became a ghost. And a rather famous one at that.  

The video below is an episode of Haunted History that featured the Baltimore area.  The story I'm going to reference begins at 14:30 and discusses a well known bar called Club Charles.   

While watching this episode, my aunt happened to see the photo of a man named Edward Neyt (at the 16:30 mark) and exclaimed, "That's Frenchie!". And that's when pieces began to fall into place.

As I mentioned, I have always had a fascination with the paranormal.  I've also always loved the old family stories, and one time my grandmother Pauline Jackson mentioned something about a friend of my grandfather Albert Jackson being a ghost at a bar in Baltimore.  Honestly, at the time, I didn't really pay much attention to what she said.  I forgot about it.  Fast forward a couple of decades (give or take).  I found myself down in the city of Baltimore somewhere near the Zodiac bar.  Somewhere out of the deep dark recesses of my brain, I dredged out some vague memory of my grandmother talking about a ghost in a bar and thought the bar she mentioned was the Zodiac.  I mentioned it to my companions.  That was my part in piecing together this puzzle.  So maybe another decade passes and my cousin says to me, "Hey did you know Pop's friend Frenchie in that photo is the ghost featured on Haunted History?" 

Going through some old family photos, we came across a couple that featured a man in a suit with Albert S. Jackson, our grandfather, and Charles L. Jackson, our great-uncle.  When asked about who it was, my dad and aunt explained it was a friend of my grandfather and great uncle's named Frenchie.  In the photo here, Frenchie is the gentleman standing at the horse's head.  My great uncle Charles Jackson is seated on the horse with a child.  

Frenchie was born Edouard André Neyt in France in 1925.  One record has his date of birth listed as 10 October 1925.  He died 12 May 1980.  During WWII, Edouard Neyt is said to have acted as a double agent.  He spied on the Nazis and reported his information to the French Resistance.  During my research, I found a WWII registration card for Edouard Neyt for the District of Columbia (Washington, DC).  There is no address information listed as place of residence, though there is a hotel in France listed as his mailing address.  His sister, a Mrs. Grisot, is listed as the person who will always know his address, and there is no registrant signature on the card.  The lack of information seems odd, unless, of course, he was acting as a spy.  Later, in August of 1950, Edouard enlisted in the US Army and served in the Korean War.  He was released from the military in August of 1952, and I assume that's the time he began his work as a waiter.  His first job as a waiter was with Miller Brothers and eventually The Harvey House where he worked for 20 years before his death in 1980. 

Sometime after his service, Edouard, or Frenchie, began frequenting the bar that would become the Club Charles.  Originally the bar was called The Wigwam and advertised "Grub and Firewater".  Frenchie lived in the apartment upstairs. Eventually, the owner of the bar Esther Martin renamed it the Club Charles.  Frenchie was well known at the bar.  He was there often after work drinking at the bar wearing his waiter's uniform of black pants, white shirt, tie and vest (much like the photo).  He was known as a charmer with the ladies, and he was also a known prankster who enjoyed jovially messing with people.  During Frenchie's time, there was a group of policemen and cab drivers who would meet to play a game of poker at the bar.  When Frenchie would return from work, he had a habit of going over to the group and playfully tussling their hair and trying to sit in their laps.

Sadly, Frenchie passed away in 1980 in his apartment above the bar from acute alcoholism according to the stories.  In his obituary, it says he was a friend of Mrs. Esther Martin who was the owner of the bar.  No other family is mentioned. 

But the spirit of Frenchie lives on.

After his death, employees of the bar began seeing a man in a waiter's uniform that would suddenly disappear.  Others have witnessed glasses moving off the shelf and floating in mid air for a moment before landing on the floor unbroken and completely intact. Bottles move and sometimes Frenchie turns on the beer tap.  He also enjoys "calling" employees on a payphone that doesn't accept incoming calls.  The phone continuously rings even after it's answered.  There is also a story about how a group of people playing poker felt something pulling at their hair. One person got so frustrated they shot a bullet into the ceiling yelling "Damn it French leave us alone!"

There's no doubt that Frenchie hasn't left the Club Charles.  I'm hoping one day in the near future I can visit and perhaps have a drink with my grandfather and great-uncle's old friend. 

Frenchie on the horse my grandfather on the right

 

1970 Baltimore Evening Sun clipping