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The Reed House |
It was at this point that we were moved to a "safe house" (pictured) Built for Henry W. and Florence B. Reed in 1891. Over the years, it had fallen into disrepair and even ruin. The new owners, the fabulous Diana and Miranda, had done an amazing job of not only restoring the place, but appointing it in a much grander way than even a Victorian would have thought possible. It is truly a work of dedication, love and art: ( http://www.sanjosevictorian.com )
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The Keffel family, who also occupied the house |
We spent the night in luxurious accommodation. Deciding to truly delve as deeply as we could in the psyche of Victorian times, (particularly madness. Almost inevitable madness seems to creep up in Victorian building dwellers), Deborah and I set out to visit that other famously vast and insane Victorian , that hulking ghost, that monument to agoraphobia, the Winchester House. Also know as the Winchester Mystery House (just who Mr. Mystery was has since been lost to history).
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gingerbread, anyone? |
As insane buildings go, Mrs. Winchester's does not disappoint. There's madness in spades. And it's even worse than it sounds. When the 1906 earthquake shook things up here in northern California, tiny Mrs. Winchester was trapped in her bedroom when a wall cracked and wedged her door shut. In the hours she spent there, she had visions. Ghosts reproached her for spending so much time on the front of the house. Her logical next step? After escaping the room she had the front 33 rooms boarded up, with all their lavish furnishings, never to see the light of day again (until after she died, that is).
One has to wonder at the personality that has over 100 guest rooms built in their house, and then never has a solitary guest to the house. Ever. In fact, Theodore Roosevelt, then president of the United States, tried to visit, but was sent away to the rear of the compound, where the local rabble could apply for servant's positions. Although not usually put off easily, Theodore felt this an icy reception, and decided to leave the famously reclusive widow to her own company.
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What's so refreshing is the lack of ostentation! |
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A Fortune Teller machine in the lobby. Creepy enough? |
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don't let the Old Gal catch you poking around! |
Not that she was shy with the servants. Rather, she would spy on them and micromanage their duties, firing on the spot for minor infractions of her wishes. She would hold seances, some say nightly. Everything in the place has been converted to have 13 elements when possible: window panes, gas lamps, you name it. You can almost feel the crazy seeping out of the walls.
Our heads swimming from all this, we returned to the Reed House and set to work to accommodate the guests arriving that night for the NeverWas Haul (www.neverwashaul.com) fundraiser, the Hellfire Club meeting.
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BabaLou, the Prof, and Liz |
The brave crew pulled together and set about their duties like the well-oiled machine they are. BabaLou and Lady Lizadeth prepared a 5-star culinary tour de force, including Yorkshire pudding, which is one of my very favorites. David Apocalypse set up his museum of oddities. Lady Impetuous set up a Tarot room, replete with a Ouija-based drinking game. The Professor went about his mixology. Catherine the Great and Sam ran things smoothly. Kimric set up his grammaphone DJ gear. We were joined by amazing musicians, amongst them Squeezebox Goddess Renee De La Prade (www.squeezeboxgoddess.com) and the delightfully anomalous Amberlee Baker (www.amberleeandtheanomolies.com) Leaving me, famous for my love of vice, to host the hookah lounge upstairs.
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Catherine "The Great" Becvar! |
Shannon O'Hare, the great inventor and builder of the NeverWas Haul, as well as a million other equally inspiredly mad steampunk works of art, was to make his appearance as the Devil just before dinner. arrived suddenly in a puff of smoke in a chair that was empty a second ago, (a trick chair he had built. Hard to describe... a really good illusion). We scurried off to wait on the guests with appetizers while Satan made the rounds.
What occurred after dinner I can only recount through a lens of rum and other filters, so it's difficult to say what did and did not happen. I think I can rule out the H.P. Lovecraftian-creature summoning memories of that night. But I do confirm the flaming Zeppelin, the free flow of absinthe, Vitorola DJ'ing, and a den of ill refute that I briefly called home.
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The Devil dances with this unidentified hellraiser! |
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David Apocalypse, Master of the Weird |
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Professor Birdbath, Apothecary and Mixologist |
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The Lovely Miss Rene De La Prade in the Hookah Lounge |
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Amberlee and Renee |
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Kimric Smythe: a man so far ahead of his time that it looks like he's going backwards! |
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The Hookah Lounge |
Did we learn anything from this? Is there a cathartic message and/or morale to all of this? Hell, no. But we feel it was a rousing success, and, perhaps most importantly, a hell of a good time.
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