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August 8, 2005
Floyd and the Walking Horse HotelRate this encounter: Patrick, Wartrace, Tennessee, Early 1980s, info@ghostvillage.comI grew up in Nashville, Tennessee and went to school with lots of the country music stars' kids. This afforded me some rather unique experiences and one of those is how I came to encounter a ghost. There is a hotel in Wartrace, Tennessee called the Walking Horse Hotel. I know it is still there because I visited it yesterday with my wife and kids on the way back to Atlanta from visiting family in Nashville. The property has changed dramatically on the inside, but as soon as I saw the outline of the building I knew that was it -- even after 20 years since my experience. It was in the early 1980s and I was invited to go with some of my friends and one adult, the wife of a very prominent country music star, to stay New Year's Eve as the guests of the manager of unique hotel located in Tennessee -- Walking Horse country. We were to be the only people in the hotel as it was closed that evening. My friends had stayed there in the recent past and had some interesting experiences. This particular hotel was the resting place of “Strutting Jim,” one of the most famous Tennessee walking horses of all time. His trainer “Floyd” had lived in the hotel and sometime after the horses passing had died himself in his room on the 3rd floor of the 3-story hotel. Floyd was said to still be wandering the grounds and the halls of the hotel but our host George, the manager of the property, assured us that he was always friendly and had not harmed anyone. We arrived mid evening after stopping for dinner on the way and enjoyed a nice quiet evening. We spent most of the evening looking at the amazing Walking Horse artwork that hung on almost every square inch of the lobby and main staircase. It was shortly after midnight, we had been listening to George’s tales of encounters from other guests when everyone started settling down to sleep. I was feeling a bit brave and still wasn’t as sold as the others on the authenticity of “Floyd the Ghost,” so I decided to go up and sit in his room on the third floor to see if anything would happen. I sat on the bed in the almost total darkness and waited for “Floyd.” When I opened my eyes I was laying on the bed, still fully dressed in clothes and shoes and day was just breaking. I knew that I had fallen asleep and that there had been no visit from “Floyd.” I went downstairs to find George starting to put together breakfast and the others were just starting to mill about. George suggested we go out and see “Strutting Jim’s” grave marker and stretch our legs before breakfast. As we headed out to the back pasture to visit the stables and grave it all seemed strangely familiar. As we approached a fenced in area on the side of the pasture I stopped George and asked how long the English sheep dogs had lived there. He looked rather surprised as we had not been out here the night before and there had been no mention of the dogs, but sure enough they came running up to the fence and started barking and looking directly at me. We then proceeded to the stables where the grave marker was and there were a few horses kept. As we approached one of the stales George told us all to stay clear of the big black one as he bit anyone he didn’t know. The black horse immediately came to me and started nuzzling my head with his and stamping his feet in excitement. We then walked over to the Grave marker and I lead the way as if I had been going there for years. By now even George was blown away with all of this and when asked, I responded that I slept in “Floyd’s” room but didn’t remember leaving the bed all night. We all walked back to the hotel talking about the strange events and without asking I walked directly in the rear kitchen door like I owned the place. We had not been anywhere near this area of the hotel for our visit but I knew exactly where to go. We all sat down in the dining room and George asked who would like biscuits with honey to start. I jumped up and stated that these were the best biscuits in the world and everyone should have some. George asked how I knew this since this was my first visit and we had arrived after dinner the night before. I walked straight into the kitchen – opened a pantry – reached up to a tin on the third shelf and opened it up to reveal a tin full of the very biscuits. That pretty much sealed the deal. It is my assumption that “Floyd” took me for a little spin the night before, using my body as a vehicle to get to his favorite places and get some of his favorite food. I am still not quite sure what to make of this incredible event, but I know that I now believe that there are some people who just aren’t ready to go on to heaven or whatever awaits them and they are still here on earth with us. On my visit yesterday it was so disappointing to learn that the new proprietor had gutted the hotel, changed the entire layout -- losing the lobby and grand staircase, and didn’t believe that any of the tales about “Floyd” were anything more than poppycock. The entire feel of the place was different and I hope “Floyd” has moved on to his eternal resting place. I know the memory of that incredible day will always be with me.
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