Sea Legs - The Crossroads

I'm a fairy.

Yes, it's true, and I'll do what you ask me to, but

if you knew what was my game, you'd throw me back from where I came.

You've almost reached the crossroads from Spooked.

Stay.

That's Sam I am

That's Sam I am he will not stop green eggs and ham

Please try them now.

I will not Sam

Please try them here.

No eggs no ham

Day after day does Sam implore I tell him no, same as before.

Eat them, eat them, eat them now.

I will not, Sam, you blankered sow.

I will not eat them on this boat.

I will not eat them with your goat.

I will not eat them here or there.

I will not eat them anywhere.

Sam's smile grows dark.

His patience dies.

Last chance, he says, and I reply, get out!

Get out!

Don't bother me!

Sam shakes his head.

So it must be.

The floor gives way.

Down, down I fall into this dark and dreadful hall.

Wait!

Wait!

Perhaps...

I could try too late for that, comes Sam's reply.

You had your chance.

Now there you'll stay, down in the dark to rot away.

The door slams shut.

It's all a sham, cause Sam is me.

Sam,

I am

Spook's journey to the crossroads starts

now.

We begin, headed out to sea to meet Jordan.

Now Jordan is fresh out of boot camp and doing his very first unit with the Coast Guard on board a ship patrolling the waters off the east coast.

And I'm going to let Jordan take it from here.

Spooked.

It's half past midnight.

I'm out here by myself on the catwalk, standing my watch, doing my lookout.

This is a famous class cutter, bow to stern, 270 feet long, white with the famous U.S.

Coast Guard orange racing stripe on the front.

At this point, the ship is off the coast of New England.

Even being late spring, it's still pretty cold.

The wind is blowing.

I'm bundled up in what we call a float coat, essentially a rain jacket with a life jacket built into it.

It's a pretty dark night.

It's very starry out, but the moon had very little illumination this particular night.

So I'm using night vision goggles and I'm looking for hazards, essentially.

Things floating in the water, other ships that we might not see on radar.

At this point, I'm about an hour and a half into my watch.

It's been a pretty quiet night.

I'm doing a scan with my night vision, just looking towards the front of the ship.

And I see there's a person standing

at the

forwardmost point of the bow, about 70 feet away from me, with his arms outstretched.

It's the middle of the night.

There aren't very many people awake at this point, and for someone to be out there in the pitch black darkness, standing on the front of the ship,

that rings alarm bells in my head.

I'm concerned about the worst case scenario that this person is out there with the intent to jump off.

Right away, I have to look again.

You know, did I actually just see that?

I pick up my NVGs again and look out and it's very clearly a person standing there.

Just the silhouette of a person.

I can tell that it's a man.

He's got a military-style haircut.

And I can tell that they're wearing the Coast Guard uniform.

Not by any color, just by the sort of silhouette of it.

I'm yelling, hey, what are you doing out there?

Hey, just trying to get their attention.

The OD, the officer at the deck, the person in charge of navigation of the ship.

She's inside the bridge.

This OOD has heard me screaming.

She's my boss as a seaman

and she has come out to see what the deal is.

She's short, probably 5'2, blonde woman with big

like porthole glasses, just these big round glasses that you practically can't see past when you're talking to her.

So I hand her my night vision goggles.

I say, there's someone standing on the bow.

And I think the exact words out of her mouth were, oh shit

because at this point now she's reached the same initial conclusion that I have of somebody's on the front of the boat and they might be getting ready to jump over the side

so immediately she calls to the boatswain's mate of the watch their only roving watchstander on the bridge

and tells him to go down there.

I can hear him open the door.

It's a very distinct, like creak and slam sound, a very heavy door.

And I can see his flashlight as he comes out.

He's got a life jacket on himself, and he's got another life jacket in his hand in case he has to reach out and grab this person and throw them in a life jacket to prevent him from hurting themselves.

So the OD, she sends the bosun's mate of the watch down, and a couple minutes later, he comes up on the radio and he says there's no one up here

right away my heart sank

my immediate thought was that this person had jumped over the side or fallen over the side and we didn't see it happen

i

expected that we're going to be looking for a man overboard throughout the night

But I immediately pick up the night vision and I see right away that the person is there still.

I hand him to her, she can still see him there, so now I'm thinking that the Bemo probably had to walk through like a lit up space to get out there.

And so his natural night vision just isn't adjusted enough to see this person.

We're on the radio, I'm yelling, we're trying to guide him to where this person is standing.

We can see him shining his flashlight flashlight right in the spot where the shadow is.

And

we see the Bemo walk up

right where this person is standing.

We're telling him the whole time, he's right there, he's right there, he's right in front of you.

How do you not see him?

And then he walks right through the person

and is still saying that there's nothing there.

My blood runs cold.

I'm

dumbfounded.

I don't know how I could be even seeing what I'm seeing.

I just watched a man walk through another man.

The OD and I are trying to figure out what it is we're looking at.

Maybe it's this, maybe it's that, but we can both see that it's not.

It's not any of those things we try to rationalize.

The OD goes back into the bridge.

She didn't have much to say after that.

I think she was pretty well shaken up and in her own head at that point.

I continue standing my watch.

Every time I looked down, it was still there.

And at this point, I've pretty well understood that he's gonna be there.

I get off my watch and make my way through the ship.

And at this point, I'm just so exhausted that I'm ready to go to sleep.

And I pass out pretty much as soon as my head hits the pillow.

So the next day, I'm sitting on the mess deck.

Between meals, kind of just wasting some time.

But at the same time, I'm thinking about this shadow that I saw last night.

Ghost stories are very common on these boats.

I've always been a sort of

what I would call maybe a loose believer.

But I've never seen one, so how can I possibly say one way or the other?

And then

the OD from that night comes up and sits down.

That's abnormal behavior.

Officers don't sit on the enlisted mess deck.

They have their own sort of eating area cloistered from the rest of the ship.

And traditionally, officers aren't supposed to sit there unless they ask you.

And so for her to come over here and sit down, she clearly has something on her mind.

Really, before I had a chance to say anything, she said, I saw it again.

After I got off watch i went to my room and it was standing in the hallway

she just described it as just a black man-shaped figure

right away i i just got chills my hairs on my arms stood up

it wasn't just this figure that stood on an unreachable part of the ship you know, 70 feet away from me.

It's now something that I could turn the corner and see at any given moment.

Within the next few days, you know, I start hearing stories about

I went out on the fantail to smoke in the night and I saw someone standing there and

raised my phone up to their face to see who it was and there just wasn't anybody there.

Or about seeing a shadow of a man while they were making their rounds before they went to watch

that they were in the gym and saw just this shadow of a person.

At this point, I felt pretty afraid that I was gonna now run into this thing anywhere that I went.

It's capable of moving around the ship.

What else is it capable of?

What is it going to do the next time I run into it?

About a week after that initial incident,

we're having what we call quarters, where we all get together, and the executive officer and the commanding officer discuss our upcoming plans, they make announcements.

The executive officer stands up and he goes, Oh, and we've got a burial at sea that we need volunteers for.

I'm thinking, what?

What are you talking about?

Burial at sea?

Like, nobody's dead.

Nobody died on this boat.

Come to find out,

since we left Florida on our way back up to New England, we have been carrying this urn on board

and it's been tucked away in one of the officers' staterooms for safekeeping.

And the urn belonged to a former electrician's mate in the Coast Guard.

The electrician's mate had been in the Coast Guard in the 80s.

on board this particular ship responding to search and rescue.

What he requested was to be buried at sea in the vicinity of where his first SAR case was.

At this point, it starts to make sense.

This was probably the man that was walking around the boat.

Anytime you run into an old veteran, one of the first things they want to do is take a look at the ship that they used to be on, see what's changed and see who's working and how things are going.

I think he was just trying to get his bearings and see what's changed, see what stayed the same,

reminisce in a way.

This guy who was on this ship that stood where I stood, did the mission that I do, and now we're honoring his final request.

That felt very moving to me, and I

was very quick to volunteer to be a part of this ceremony.

The day of the ceremony comes, and I have volunteered to be an urn-bearer.

You have three riflemen to do the gun salute.

We have someone with a trumpet to play taps, a couple people to hold the American flag as we do the internment.

This particular urn is a small plastic box.

Myself and the chief,

we bring it over to the rail and put it over the side and let go.

When we drop the urn in the water, I sort of say a little bit of a prayer to myself,

just thinking about the implications of what we've just done and what it means to the man and his family.

And

after that, the sightings stop.

The shadow just feels like another shipmate now.

That being said, a shipmate that I still don't want to run into in the dark in the middle of the night, but it's just someone else who lived part of their life on this boat.

Recently, I was underway on the ship that I'm on now, and I knew that the ship that I used to be on was in a port that we were pulling into.

I went over to the ship, they were right across the pier, and salute the watchstander, go on the brow, and salute the flag, as is custom in the Coast Guard, and

step on, and immediately that smell.

Every cutter has its own smell.

And

just the memories of the time I was there just

filled my head as I took in that smell.

And I kind of feel like maybe that's what that electrician's mate was doing as well.

Just taking in the memories.

Jordan, thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your story to spook.

The original score for that piece was by Lauren Newsome.

It was produced by Zoe Frigno.

And now, our next story hits close to home for Reels.

It all goes down to the Condor Club, a legendary nightclub just a few miles away from the San Francisco spook catacombs at KQED.

And yes, The Condor Club is a real, live, adult establishment.

And as such, this story includes mentions of actual nudity, actual sex, even some strong language, sensitive listeners and such, you know.

Naturally, with all that on offer, of course, our own Zoe Farigno decided she needed to pay the club a visit.

I'll let Zoe take it from here.

It's a Sunday night, and my fiancé Pete and I are in North Beach, walking up Broadway.

Most nights of the week, this street is totally lit up with neon signs.

But tonight, almost all of them are dark.

There's no glowing gangster outside of Big Owls, no bon bombshell in front of the hungry eye.

Even the bright green snake outside of the Garden of Eden has the night off.

From the looks of it, there's only one club open in North Beach tonight.

And the 50-foot-tall neon sign that says Condor in big gold letters is as bright as ever.

Inside, the Condor Club is dark and very loud.

There are Christmas decorations hanging on the walls and football is playing on the TVs.

It kind of feels like just your average neighborhood bar, except for one thing.

The dancer up on stage in a silver bikini top, hanging upside down on the stripper pole.

The truth is, the Condor isn't just a neighborhood bar, even if it feels that way sometimes.

It's one of the oldest drip clubs in San Francisco and the very first topless bar in America.

I was really excited to work there, honestly, even if I wasn't dancing, because

it's an iconic spot.

That's Rachel.

She started working at the Condor as a bartender in 2019.

The building itself is like over 100 years old.

So when you go in it, it has like a very like old school burlesque vibe, which I really liked.

The stairs are still made of hard wood.

The railings are still made of hardwood.

The wallpaper was like super detailed and ornate, paisley, with like these deep reds and gold.

And then you just have pictures of dancers who danced there throughout the years.

There's just history there.

Like I wouldn't be surprised if it opened as a museum one of these days.

Rachel started out working the day shift at the club.

In the beginning, it was intimidating.

The girl who was training me during the daytime, she was very charismatic, and a lot of people loved her.

She had a lot of regulars that came in just for her.

So I was just like, I felt like I had like this huge role to fill, you know.

Rachel knew if she was going to win over the crowd, she was going to have to put in some extra time before her shift when the club was dead.

I came in and I was setting up the bar and I was practicing making drinks so that I could get faster at it.

And I went to go grab a bottle and then I noticed that the Hennessy bottle was out of place.

It was just like slightly scooched towards the edge.

And I noticed that because I'm one of those people where I'm like, it needs to be in like a perfect little place, like it needs to look neat.

And so I went and I pushed it back and then I got down off the ladder and then I started cleaning the bar and cutting fruit and just doing downtime stuff that you do as a bartender at the bar.

And I look up and that damn bottle is by the edge again and I'm just like, what the hell?

Because I made sure that I pushed that thing back and then I went and I did it again.

And it kept happening whenever she was there practicing in the deserted club with the empty stage.

I would push it back and then it would be slightly out of place again.

And it was just that one bottle of Hennessy.

It was really annoying.

After a few weeks on the job, Rachel was starting to get the hang of things.

Because we had a lot of beer drinkers, I would keep bottles of beer on ice.

So I remember I was was taking some Bud Lights, putting them on the ice.

It's very early, so like no customers had rolled in yet.

The band hadn't come in yet.

And I heard what sounded like footsteps.

It sounded like somebody was just darting up the stairs.

I thought it was my manager.

But then, About five to ten minutes later, it sounded like somebody was running back down the stairs.

I was like, all right, what's going on?

Did something happen?

So I decided to investigate.

So I went upstairs and I looked around.

My manager was not up there.

I came back down.

As I'm coming down the stairs leading up to the private rooms, he comes up from the basement stairs.

And I'm like, I just heard somebody running up and down the stairs.

I thought it was you.

And he was just like, oh yeah, that's the ghost.

ghost.

I've heard it too.

In my head, I was like, you know, people like to blame things that they can't explain on ghosts.

Or he's just trying to scare me.

That was what was going through my head.

So I brushed it off and went back to work.

It was another dead afternoon and Rachel was all alone in the club again, up on the stage.

My manager told me that he wanted me to start cleaning the mirror that's behind the pole on the stage because no one was cleaning it and it's just filled with fingerprints and lipstick stains because sometimes the girls would kiss the mirror.

So I'm up there with the Windex and I'm wiping it down.

I'm minding my own business.

And then as I'm wiping away these fingerprints, I see a man standing behind me.

And that's when I got startled.

He was very tall, very big, and he had a beard.

He was wearing a full-on, like, black suit,

white button-up shirt with a red tie.

It was the kind of outfit that the bouncers wore.

And he looked like my old coworker

that I had at my old club

and I was like, oh, did he come by to say hello?

And turn around and no one's there.

It was literally like a split second.

Like I saw it in the mirror and I kind of got excited and I turned around and no one was there.

And I was like, what just happened?

I got scared.

I was like, is somebody in here?

Like, who was that?

I looked around and I was like, maybe somebody from the night shift maybe came in to pick up their paycheck or something.

Nope, no one was there.

And then I remembered, like, boss said it was haunted.

Was this what he was talking about?

Up on the same stage where Rachel saw the man behind her in the mirror, another dancer is finishing her set.

There's a guy in a suit up there with her, using a push broom to sweep up all the cash on stage.

Pete and I get up and make our way into the club's other room to get drinks at the bar.

We see the stairs that lead up to the private rooms where Rachel heard the disembodied footsteps and then towards the back of the club we notice that part of the floor is glowing.

We walk over and see that set into the floor is a baby grand piano.

It's underneath a layer of plexiglass and illuminated by hot pink lights.

There's a clear stripper pole coming up out of the plexiglass that goes all the way into the ceiling.

It turns out that this piano plays a big role in the history of the club.

I was bartending at nighttime.

It was very, very busy.

Very loud music playing.

I was very stressed out because there was a lot of people and I have to deal with this door dash order because one of the dancers had ordered food.

Rachel grabbed the takeout bag and started heading for the back room.

But before she got there, she ran into another dancer.

Her face is like super pale white.

When I noticed they were looking up at the ceiling, I turn around, I look up.

I was expecting to see something wild going down on the second floor in the private rooms because

that's what happens when you work in a nightclub.

That's what I was expecting to see.

Something wild.

But when I looked up,

I saw this black, shadowy figure

of a woman,

hourglass shade, pinned up hair.

With her hand on her hip just like descending from the ceiling, like down to the floor.

And it was dark, but I could see it.

It was plain as day.

And then, as soon as it hits the floor, it just dissipates.

It was like a raindrop hitting the floor.

It was like poof.

Gone.

I was super shaken up.

I had chills.

I was freaking out.

But the dancer next to me, she was like really freaking out.

She was like, oh my God, did we just see that?

I was trying really, really hard to keep it together, but I couldn't stop shaking.

Just the way she was posing, just the way that her body was shaped.

There's no doubt in my mind that that was Carol.

Absolutely.

Carol is in Carol Dota.

The iconic topless dancer who made the Condro Club famous and who turned North Beach into a hub of sex and controversy in the 1960s.

Yours was the first topless show.

The first topless and the first to be in trouble.

I was the first one to go to jail for three hours.

You did go to jail for three hours?

What was that like?

It was very terrible.

I don't particularly like it.

But I would like to know what is the performance at the Condor, what did it consist of?

Oh, it consisted of

a piano, a ceiling, and a body

coming out of the ceiling on the piano with this wild rock and roll music.

And it would it was like an elevator.

It was like going up and down on an elevator.

And it would hit the stage, and I would go into

one of my routines of

mostly rock and roll dancing.

You know, the contemporary

Carol performed her signature moves, singing and dancing, topless, on top of the piano, six times every night.

And each time the crowd in the Condor Club would go wild.

When I saw the silhouette come down from the ceiling, like that was her platform where she had her piano where she would come down, like that was her spot.

She passed away in 2015, so pretty recent.

But I wouldn't

be surprised if she felt very spiritually and emotionally connected to that place.

But the legacy of the piano that now sits encased in plexiglass beneath the floor goes beyond just Carol Dota.

So back in the early 80s, this floor host and a dancer decided that

now that the club was closed, that it was a good idea to do the nasty on top of a piano.

Why they thought that that was a good idea, I don't know.

But as they were,

you know, being intimate on top of the piano, it malfunctioned.

And it just smashed against the ceiling.

And it crushed the man.

His girlfriend, the dancer, she was able to survive.

But yeah, the four host, yeah, he did.

He did not survive, unfortunately.

Over time, Rachel came to wonder if that was the large man in the bouncer suit whose reflection she saw behind her that day in the mirror.

Apparently, he had a beard, like that was his nickname, the beard.

This theory intrigued me, so I started looking into it.

And I found out that there's evidence that the beard, whose real name was Jimmy Ferrozzo, may actually have been murdered by the mob and then his death was staged to look like an accident.

We probably won't ever know what really happened, just like we'll never know whether Rachel saw the beard that day or the spirit of some other guy who just really loved Hennessy.

To me, it's like a lot of different spirits that are there.

Even though I was there for only several months,

I could definitely just feel a lot of different energy because there's just so many different people that have come and gone from that place since the 60s.

And a strip club is a very emotionally charged place.

There's a lot of different emotions and, you know, people are experiencing a bunch of different things.

I feel like their energy just sort of lingers.

It's about 10 p.m.

at the Condra Club.

There's a little break in the entertainment, and Pete has wandered off with his drink to the back of the club to check out the piano one more time.

He's standing right over it, in the same place where Jimmy Ferozzo met his end, and where Rachel saw what she believes was Carol Dota's ghost.

There's another dancer about to take the stage, but I think it's time to go.

I want to get my fiancée out of here in one piece.

A big, big thank you to Rachel for sharing her story with the spook.

And thank you to the wonderful staff at the Condor Club for their hospitality, spooksters.

If you want to learn more about the history of the Condor Club and the woman who put it on the map, There's a wonderful documentary you should check out.

It's called Carol Dota.

Tap us at the Condor and find out more about it in our show notes.

The original score for that piece was by Doug Stewart.

It was performed by Doug Stewart and Casey Butler.

It was scouted by Paulina Krike and produced by Zoe Frigno.

Now,

let me tell you a tragic story about these crossroads, about this Shadowland.

Because the truth is this

Some people, they don't know the way.

They've never heard of spook.

They don't know there's a community of spooksters trying to cast light on the darkness.

They wander alone and afraid.

And if you find solace, respite connection from hearing real people sharing their real stories, take a moment right now.

Do me a favor.

Let somebody know.

Send them the spook stories they need to hear.

Tis the season.

Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, call them, use a stamp.

That's the only way we can keep this journey alive.

Now, if you yourself, you have spoken to a fairy, the magical kind, I would love to hear about it.

Spooked at snapjudgment.org, because there's nothing better than a spooked story from a spooked listener.

He's got a special incantation from Spook Legal reading that no Snap Studios content may be used for training, testing, or developing machine learning or AI systems without prior written permission.

Spooked is brought to you by the team that goes to adult establishments for the food.

Except for Mark Ristich, he just likes the conversation.

The road to Spook Studios runs through shadow and light, time and space, only to intersect with KQED in San Francisco.

Don't seek to find it, lest it seek to find you.

On Team Spooked, the union represented producers, artists, editors, and engineers, our members of the National Association of Broadcast Employees and Technicians, Communications Workers of America, AFL, CIO, Local51, all of that and

Davey Kim, Zoe Frignell, Eric Yanez, Taylor DeCott, Marissa Dodge, Miles Lassie,

Elliot Lightfoot, Suyi Chu, Evan Stern, Eve Jeffko,

Isha Lopez, Jack Darrell, Doug Stewart.

The Spook theme song is by Pat Massini Miller.

My name is I'm Washington.

And Philip K.

Dick once said that it is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.

And I feel recently that my tenuous grip on whatever reality is is slipping even more.

All of us

that have heard something,

seen something, felt something, couldn't be, we know that if we insist

that we saw or we experience what we saw or we experience, that if we turn away efforts to rationalize it away

and refuse to pretend,

refuse to make nice, then it might not go so well for us.

People might have to be called.

Papers might have to be signed.

We can't have that.

So we do pretend, we do make nice.

We didn't see what we saw anymore.

It's easier that way.

And I wonder if living that lie has had a consequence.

An unforeseen consequence.

I wonder if when we refuse to acknowledge our own reality,

does it make it easier to ignore someone else's?

We tell ourselves the contradiction isn't real in order to get along.

Sure.

It's cool if one person has half a trillion dollar and another person can't afford to purchase their children a sandwich.

Sure.

The real criminal is the guy who picks tomatoes for the sandwich she can't afford.

Sure.

The full might of the military needs to be deployed against our own citizens.

Sure.

Sure.

Or could it be that Once we tell lies to ourselves, it's easier to embrace the lies of someone else.

I don't see monsters at the gate.

Sure, we won't be next.

Sure,

sure,

sure,

never, ever,

ever,

never, ever, never, ever, ever, never

turn out

the lights.