Remember as you read this story that there were six uninvolved witnesses to these events. Today is the day before Halloween and brings back memories of Halloweens past. Halloween 1947 is one of those Halloweens. That was the year Mister Ryan was almost seriously injured in a fist fight over near City Hospital. It was cold, as it always seems to be Halloween night in St Louis, the wind was blowing and if it wasn’t freezing it was very near to freezing. Fifteen minutes in that wind and our cheeks were fiery red. We were living in the Clinton Peabody Projects and getting prepared for trick or treat night. There were six of us, all around the age of twelve. At dark we all gathered at my house in preparation to knock on doors after a party at that church just south of Fourteenth and Lafayette Streets. When all six had mustered we discovered that we were all dressed as Hoboes. But mine was the best costume. My sister Sharon had come up with the idea of using mascara to paint a beard on my face. Girls can be useful sometimes, but not always, I agreed with Mom, thirteen was still to young for girls to be painting their eyelashes no matter what the movie magazines said. This was also the Halloween we discovered a tremendous source of wealth, scraping wax and soap off store windows beginning the day after Halloween. Razor blades, fox tail brooms and elbow grease were the only implements needed and we were rich. How rich you ask? When we divided up into three two man teams we discovered that each team came back with around ninety dollars that evening. We were so wealthy I had a hard time convincing my Mom we had actually earned that much cleaning windows and had nothing to do with robbing little old ladies. She finally believed when I showed her my cut finger from a slipped razor blade and every one of the guys had a matching cut. But back to trick or treat night. We made the party over at the church that evening and had a great time playing the games and entering the contests, eating enough candy to become diabetic and laughed mightily when Clifford Hardesty pushed Sally Medford in the tub where we were bobbing for apples, then laughed even louder when Sally turned a pumpkin upside down on Clifford’s head and he couldn’t get it off. It was a fantastic party. Finally the party ended and it was time to start knocking on doors. But first we had other plans. It was planned that we would build a barricade of junk in the middle of the intersection at Grattan and Park Avenue, right where Malcolm Bliss hospital was. We had stockpiled cardboard boxes and wooden saw horses and other materials too numerous to list. But alas, it wasn’t to be that night, we were side tracked before we even reached our stock pile. I better pause here for a little color of the neighborhood. Malcolm Bliss hospital was a mental hospital that scared the kids in the neighborhood and was attached to City hospital. At night it was a little imposing and dark and all of us were convinced it was as haunted as City Hospital. And I would almost be willing to swear in Court that City Hospital "was, is, and always will be haunted." Shut and lock the doors, bar the windows, tear it down, those haunts aren ’t going anywhere. I can’t remember where I got this report but it proves how haunted and dangerous City Hospital is: GHOSTS & HAUNTS IN MISSOURI HAUNTED LOCATIONS IN ST. LOUIS SOUTH OF HWY 64 St. Louis City Hospital, located at 1515 Lafayette Ave with the cross streets of South 14Th Street to the east and Grattan Street to the west. This hospital was built in 1906 and closed down in 1985. There are many reports of paranormal activity at this abandoned hospital. The paranormal investigators that I have talked to, who have been inside these buildings, state that this location is too dangerous to visit and recommend never going inside. There you have it, proof positive, City Hospital was, is and always will be haunted. Gives me goose bumps just thinking about it. I saw a haunt there one time and can’t talk about it, even today. I can talk about Halloween 1947 though. After leaving the church, we were walking west on Lafayette intending to turn north on Grattan when we noticed Mr Ryan walking ahead of us in a most unusual manner. He seemed to be swaying back and forth as he walked and was taking up the whole sidewalk from side to side. We were just passing the front door of City Hospital when Dave said, "there’ s nothing wrong with Mr Ryan he’s just drunk." After a proper amount of laughter at Mr Ryan’s antics we noticed him stop at the southwest corner of the hospital behind a bush for a refreshing pit stop. While watching him we saw a white something float down from the sky, then another, and then two smaller white objects that all seemed to be attacking him. We knew what they were, but could not explain how a ghost could actually fight like those were fighting Mr Ryan, they had him covered and wouldn‘t let him go no matter how hard he fought. We were always told you couldn’t touch a ghost, your hand would just pass through. But Mr Ryan sure was fighting, and he was shouting and cussing like nothing we had ever heard. And I will admit we were to chicken to jump on those paranormal beings. At twelve we didn't even have peach fuzz on our cheeks let alone any hair on our chests. In fact he was shouting and cussing so loud someone inside called the police. When the police got there they pulled Mr Ryan away from those white things right away and saved him from who knew what. Meanwhile inside the hospital, it was learned later, that Sally Medford’s father was a patient and had been hospitalized for food poisoning. Sally later told us that Mr Medford was having terrible problems with diarrhea that evening and couldn’t shout loud enough to get help with his problem and soiled the whole bed. She said he was so sick that he was near death with no one to help him. He laid in bed as long as he could, no where to escape from all that poop, but finally managed to crawl to the window where he threw his sheets and pillow cases out. Then crawled back to bed where he promptly passed out. Meanwhile, back outside on the lawn, the police were struggling with Mr Ryan. "What the hell’s going on Ryan," asked Leary the beat cop? "Can’t you see, you dumb flatfoot?" "See what, all I see is a bunch of dirty sheets laying there. that‘s no reason to be disturbing all those poor sick people with your cussing and shouting." "Yeah, sheets now, that’s because I beat the crap out of the rest of them." And for once poor Mister Ryan lucked out, the cops took off without taking him to jail. I wouldn’t want him in my car either, smelling like that. I’ll end this story with this caution, "Stay away from City Hospital on Halloween night, no matter how inviting all those doors look in the neighborhood. We don‘t want a ghost to get you."