A Haunting New Year’s Eve

Submitted by Penelope – It was New Year’s Eve when my family and I arrived at the Gunter Hotel in San Antonio. The street glowed with festive lights, like a living Christmas card. My phone camera couldn’t capture the magic – sometimes technology fails to show what our eyes see.

Walking into the hotel felt like stepping back in time. The lobby had an old-world charm that made you feel important. We approached the shiny check-in desk. The smiling clerk handed us key cards with a nod, then casually mentioned:

"Oh, and by the way, the Presidential Suite is supposed to be haunted."

Our faces showed both excitement and surprise. It felt like we were handed a mystery with our room. A shiver ran down my spine, even as I tried to act cool.

In the slow elevator, I imagined meeting a ghost in the hallway. When we reached our floor, the doors creaked open eerily. I paused to glance down the hall toward the infamous suite. The lights flickered slightly. Coincidence? Maybe. Or perhaps the ghostly residents had noticed us.

After the clerk’s bombshell about the haunted Presidential Suite, I was tempted to ask for an upgrade. How often do you get to maybe bunk with a ghost? Sadly, the suite was taken. Maybe by the ghosts themselves, having a break before spooking us amateurs.

The idea stuck with me. I wondered what I’d do if I met someone invisible. Ask about the old days? Share what they missed? Crazy thoughts, but that’s what happens in a supposedly haunted hotel.

We settled into our room, but I stayed alert for odd sounds. Every creak sparked a mix of excitement and foolish bravery. I promised myself I’d get a selfie if I saw anything ghostly – for Instagram or the family album.

Eventually, I fell asleep, dreaming of less haunted rooms. No ghost buddy that night, but maybe next time I’d get that bigger room. After all, a haunted suite would make the ultimate vacation story!

My mind drifted to another trip, a late-night walk through the Menger Hotel. San Antonio is full of history, and some say, ghosts. After a few drinks, I saw a figure that looked just like Richard King, the cattle baron, turn a corner ahead of me.

I froze, watching. The figure didn’t do anything ghostly, just walked away. But I felt like I’d seen a piece of history still roaming around. Maybe it was just the drinks, but the memory stuck with me.

Now at the Gunter, these ghost stories seemed to connect. This city always feels a bit… haunted. I liked the idea that nearby, the ghosts of San Antonio might be swapping their own stories about us – the dreamers and believers.

Maybe I’ll run into Richard King again, have a chat over coffee next time. Whatever happens, it’ll be hard to top the stories these old hotels share through creaky floors and flickering lights.

Feeling restless, I decided to take a late-night walk. My family was asleep as I slipped out of the room. The hallway was quiet, that silence you only find when everyone’s dreaming.

I got in the elevator, aiming for the lobby and a warm drink. But I pressed the wrong button and ended up on the roof! The door was slightly open, so I stepped out.

Instead of ghosts, I found a clear night sky. Suddenly, I heard people counting down to midnight. When they reached “one” – boom! Fireworks exploded across the sky.

Bright colors burst over the city, reflecting off old buildings. It was beautiful, like a painter’s wild palette. Here in San Antonio, where old stories whisper, the fireworks spoke a language everyone could understand.

It was one of those accidental adventures that make travel special.

Even without ghosts, the city put on quite a show. I stayed a while, taking in the unexpected beauty.

Eventually, I headed back to my room with a secret smile. Who needs ghosts when you’ve got colorful fireworks filling your night?

The next morning, I woke up feeling great after my rooftop adventure. After some strong coffee, I set out to explore Houston Street.

The street was buzzing with activity – street performers, art vendors, and eye-catching murals. I wandered without a plan, following the rhythm of the place.

I’d hoped to try the sweet bread from La Panadería, but they were sold out. Disappointed but not defeated, I kept walking and found Voodoo Doughnuts – a funky place I’d heard about.

Inside was like a colorful sugar dream. Their huge bear claws caught my eye – big enough to take down a bear! Biting into one was like finding a new love. It was gooey, sweet, and perfectly iced.

Fueled by my doughnut bliss, I explored the rest of the street. From quirky shops to cool cafes, I darted around, swept up in the vibrant energy.

As I headed back to the hotel, still tasting powdered sugar, I thought about how lucky I was. From fireworks to new favorite treats, the unexpected moments had made this trip unforgettable.

Back at the hotel, I took a moment in the nostalgic lobby. While I didn’t meet any ghosts during my stay, their presence seemed to linger. Maybe it’s something in the air of these old buildings, a kind of magic that makes the imagination dance.

I’d hoped to see a shadowy figure or hear ghostly whispers. But perhaps the spirits here are more subtle, or maybe they were on vacation too!

Even without a ghostly encounter, the whole experience was thrilling. That feeling of possibility, that any corner might lead to an otherworldly story, made it all worthwhile.

It’s funny how a stay in a supposedly haunted hotel can become a study of how our minds mix truth and legend. I left with a smile and a sense of wonder at the history in these walls.

If you're ever in San Antonio, stop by the Gunter. Walk its halls and let your imagination run wild.

The experience will probably be more hauntingly delightful than you expect. And who knows – maybe you’ll have better luck meeting the resident ghosts than I did!