Real Haunted Wine Country: Grass Valley Tasting Room has Musical Ghost
Last week we heard the tale of a World War II resistance fighter whose ghost still haunts the site of his captivity in Nuits St. Georges, Burgundy. This time, I’ve got a “Real Haunted Wine Country” tale from California that comes to us from a friend and fellow UC Davis alum, Winemaker Steve Burch. Steve now lives and works here Napa but back when we were new winemaking graduates, he set up shop in the notoriously haunted Gold Rush town of Grass Valley and had some experiences he couldn’t explain away.
Here is Steve’s Haunted Wine Country story: “I used to have a winery and tasting room in the gold rush town of Grass Valley in the foothills of California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains. The tasting room was in a retail storefront in a 2 story building in down town that was built in 1851. The street level had always been retail, however the upstairs had been a meeting hall and city offices at times but had been condemned from occupation decades ago because it was not up to fire code.
Having been around for over 150 years, the building certainly picked up its share of energy. There were a few incidences of paranormal activity that had been related to me by the previous tenants and one that I experienced directly.
When I moved into the space, the woman that was moving out, told me that the building was haunted. She made sure to tell me “don’t close the door to the store room”. If you do, the resident ghost will not be happy and he/she will knock merchandise off the shelves and break things. She had found this out the hard way. There were also the strange noises. There were times you could hear people talking when no one was around. Or you could hear music with no apparent origin. Not being a “Believer” I chalked this up to localized hysteria and vowed to keep the storeroom door open just in case I was the one afflicted with the hysteria.
Other tenants had stories of items being moved, doors closing and at least one irate customer demanding to know “how the clerk opened this drawer next to her from over there behind the counter!” There was no explanation. She left in a huff.
One night, late, after a street festival, I was alone doing paperwork and wrapping up from the day. I noticed faint music as I sat in the quiet tasting room. I ignored it at first thinking someone must still be partying on the street or in a neighboring store. Then I happened to look at a clock. It was well after midnight. I walked to the front of the store and the music faded a bit. OK, that’s odd, I thought. I looked out the front door then walked out side. No one. Not a sole. Not a light on. Completely silent. I went back to my desk and listened hard. I could here piano music. OLD piano music. I later found out the room upstairs had, for some time, been the local dance hall and was referred to as “the music room”.
Lastly, the most baffling incident was described by the owner of the store next door. There were 3 retail establishments at street level, my tasting room, an antique store and a jewelry broker. The antique-store owner, I will call him Rich… because that is his name, was the caretaker of the building for the absentee landlord. One particular winter there was a lot of rain exposing the fact that the roof had several leaks. A storm rolled in late one evening and not wanting to deal with a lot of soaked merchandise the next day, Rich took a proactive approach… mostly because he was the only person with a key to the upstairs where an effective defense of the drenching could be mounted. He and his partner, I’ll call him Jim, again, because that’s his name, gathered sheets of plastic, buckets, ladders and staplers with the idea of stapling the plastic to the ceiling and funneling water from the ceiling to the buckets on the floor for emptying later. The rain had begun by this point and by the time they were finished with their diversion efforts, they realized they were fighting a losing battle. It had only been an hour and the bucket were already half full! Defeated, they went home for the night resigned to mopping up in the morning. Early the next day, mops in hand, they went back to the building. Now, remember, Rich was the only person with a key to the upstairs and, it had rained for several hours after they left for the night. When they walked up the stairs to survey the damage, they discovered empty buckets and dry floors. Apparently our resident ghost did not like to be soggy.”
Many thanks to Steve Burch for sharing his story with me!
Alison Crowe is an award-winning winemaker, author and blogger living in Napa, CA. She is the Winemaker for Garnet Vineyards among other consulting projects and is the author of The Winemaker’s Answer Book. When she has time, she plays tennis, cooks for friends and family, writes the occasional wine article and loves to hear the odd ghost story.