All those who attend will receive a free G.H.O.U.L.A. button. If you have already received your button, please wear it so others can find you. Also, G.H.O.U.L.A t-shirts will be available for sale. ($10.00 each). Free 1-Card Tarot reading for all attendees!
THE DATE: October 13th, 2008 (Monday)
THE PLACE: Philippes the Original (1001 N. Alameda St.)
THE TIME: 8pm to 10pm (Meet on Haunted 2nd Floor) – Maybe followed by drinks in Chinatown
THE GHOST: This month, Philippes celebrates its 100th Birthday. For a century, this landmark restaurant, located in the heart of Los Angeles, has been serving up great food at reasonable prices. In that life-span, this historic eatery has also been the subject of many rumors and legends. Most of these tall tales concern the restaurant’s most famous creation, the “French Dipped Sandwich.” How exactly it was invented (or even if Philippes actually invented it) is still up for debate.
But, there is another set of stories that people don’t talk about in public, and these stories concern the building’s upstairs dining area.
Although, Philippes (as a business) has been around since 1908, it has only been at this location since 1951. So, what was at 1001 N. Alameda Street before Philippes moved in, and took over this building? The restaurant‘s website diplomatically referred to it as a “hotel,” though it was more likely a run-down boarding house. Furthermore, given that it was placed in the center of the area’s “red-light” district, it was most likely a brothel. Whatever the truth may be, the racy history is the one that employees repeat when talking about the other legend connected with the upstairs.
It is said that there is the ghost of a “lady of the evening” that haunts the 2nd floor. Many people, over the years, have seen her white form strolling down the hall only to vanish as she steps into one of the adjoining rooms. This prostituting phantasm is also said to be the source of a strong perfume that seems to invade the upstairs when no one else is present.
So, the next time you’re enjoying the pleasures of their “French Dipped Sandwich” and a cold beer, take a look at the upstairs where women used to sell pleasures of another kind, you just might come face-to-face with something scarier than the jar of purple, pickled eggs downstairs.