Monterey Hotel

Fred was the hotel's maintenance man in the 1950s and died on the job, and staff at the Monterey Hotel insist he never left. He's still spotted on the main staircase, still complaining about broken stairs, and still tampering with guests' alarm clocks and phones. A top-hatted Edwardian gentleman, believed to be the hotel's original architect, appears in the mirror facing the front desk.

Fred keeps complaining about the stairs. The staff at the Monterey Hotel will tell you this matter-of-factly, the way you'd describe a coworker nobody has officially introduced you to. Fred was a real maintenance worker at the hotel back in the 1950s. He died on the job. Seventy-odd years later, employees still hear him grumbling about broken steps and jammed drawers, and they still catch glimpses of him on the main staircase in the lobby, always moving, never quite turning to look at anyone.

Fred is the Monterey Hotel's headline ghost, and unlike a lot of haunted hotel stories, his comes with a job description. He fiddles with alarm clocks in guest rooms, setting them off at odd hours or killing them entirely. He messes with guests' phones, mostly on the lower floors. He is frequently blamed for the small mechanical hassles of running a 120-year-old hotel. Staff mostly find him endearing. A few have stopped being surprised when a cold breeze moves past them on the staircase at three in the morning and a lightbulb pops behind them. That's Fred.

The Monterey Hotel is a downtown landmark, built in 1904 a block from Fisherman's Wharf on what had been a strip of sand dunes when the town was still a sleepy Spanish capital. Four stories of Mission Revival, white-painted walls, wrought-iron balconies. The architect was Albert Farr. He built it for a client who wanted a proper European-style hotel in what was then a rough working port. Farr died in 1936. Some at the hotel think he came back.

The Edwardian gentleman shows up in the mirror at the front desk. Always in profile. Always in a tall hat and formal coat from the early 1900s. He appears for a second, sometimes just long enough for the desk clerk to do a double take, and then he's gone. Staff who've worked the night shift have had the same experience often enough that they've taken to glancing at the mirror deliberately. Every few months, the Edwardian is there. Many believe this is Albert Farr still keeping an eye on his work.

The author Jeff Dwyer, who has written several books on California ghost stories, once recorded a clear 'Hello' coming from the empty second floor when no guest was speaking. No second-floor guest had spoken. The voice was a man's voice, clear and close. It is one of the cleanest audio recordings associated with the building.

Smaller things happen constantly. Guests feel icy touches on the back of the neck. Doors swing open in unoccupied rooms. Objects rearrange themselves on nightstands. The hotel's current ownership, Moonstone Hotels, doesn't hide the stories, and the front desk will cheerfully tell you about Fred if you ask. They won't assign him to a specific room, because Fred doesn't stay put. He's too busy checking the stairs.