Is The Holiday Inn In Springfield, Missouri Haunted? My Bride Says It Is!
I don’t know of any other stories to add more credence/credibility to our claim, but the Holiday Inn in Express and Suites in Springfield, Missouri juuuuust might be haunted. Not me, but my bride, Robin, had an encounter with something/someone sitting down at the foot of her bed in the middle of the night last night. She was sooooo cool about it though. She just said, “you’re not welcome here – in Jesus name, get out” and it instantly stopped. Then she rolled over and went back to sleep. That’s why she wears the pants in this marriage – because that is just too BOSS! It was such a non-event for her that she didn’t even tell me about it until hours after we were already back on the road today.
This has actually happened to Robin once before in a hotel in Oklahoma outside of Tulsa (sorry, we don’t remember which one). That time it seemed like a cat had jumped up on the bed and was walking around her head to find a place to lay down – something our Miss Mocha Monster does. It actually took Robin a moment to remember she wasn’t at home so it could not have been our fuzzball daughter. She pretty much gave that spook the same treatment.
It’s strange that these events happen to others such as my dad, my bride, friends, people who listen to Weird Darkness (of course), but they don’t happen to me. Me… the guy who tells spooky stories for a living. I’d think by opening myself up to this stuff on a daily basis, I’d be a prime target for nefarious spirits and/or entities wanting to wreak havoc and fear on someone’s life. Nope.
Meanwhile, aside from Halloween decorations which she loves, my bride wants nothing to do with anything spooky… no supernatural TV shows or movies, no horror stories, no creepy podcasts, none of it. It just doesn’t interest her. And she’s the one who gets the haunted hotel treatment? Twice? And each time just treated it like it was just a pesky mosquito she shot with a can of Raid.
Not that I’m complaining. If I encountered a ghost kitty cat or phantom butt planting itself at the end of my bed, I’d probably be screaming like a kindergarten girl with a spider in her hair.
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