Hot haunts in the midwest
October 29, 2008
BY LORI RACKL

Halloween always means a full house at Lemp Mansion Restaurant & Inn. All six rooms book up a year in advance at the historic St. Louis property, where three descendants of the Lemp brewery empire killed themselves in the early 1900s.

One of them, Charles Lemp, shot his dog before turning the gun on himself. The eerie sound of barking can still be heard, insist guests who've stayed at the inn. Some report piano music wafting from an empty room. Others have snapped photos showing mysterious orbs looming in the background.


At the Lemp Mansion and other "haunted" hotels, the idea of spending the night with specters and spirits doesn't scare people away. Quite the contrary.

"A good 50 percent of our B&B guests are coming because of the haunted aspect," said Mary Wolff, whose father bought the mansion in 1975. Wolff answers diplomatically when I ask if she thinks the 19th century mansion is haunted.

"I think if you're perceptive and open minded, spirits may try and communicate with you," she said. "I guess that means I'm narrow minded and cynical."
 

Ghost Story
10/31/2008 - A story about ghosts.
by Leslie Gibson McCarthy

I don't really believe in them. At least I don't think so.

I did a research paper on ghosts in high school and it scared the living daylights out of me. Or maybe it was the nun who taught the class that scared me – I can't remember.

Still, I don't watch scary movies and I avoid haunted houses. I did, however, have dinner in the Lemp Mansion in south St. Louis with a group of moms a few years ago.

If you don't know about the Lemps, a little refresher: Big St. Louis brewery family of the 19th Century – bigger and richer than the Busches who would become a global brewing behemoth.

But around the turn of the 20th Century at the height of the brewery's success, a favored Lemp son died of mysterious circumstances. Three years later, the grief-stricken father shot himself inside the house, setting off a string of family misfortune that would result, over the next four decades, in more suicides, bankruptcy and sudden death.

But the house endures, and it has a nice restaurant that flaunts its spooky identity. I highly recommend it for a girls' night out. But be careful. A good dinner, a few glasses of wine, and suddenly you're walking through the house thinking you're Daphne from Scooby Doo.

We didn't see any ghosts that night, but it wasn't like we didn't try. I did learn however, how well a quiet, minivan-driving mom can scream.

That was the end of my ghost-hunting, until about a year ago getting the boys' haircuts at one of those drop-in hair salons. The place had just opened and I was chatting with the stylist asking her how she liked the new place. "It's fine," she said. "But we think we have a ghost."

She went on to describe how strange things happened sometimes at night, weird noises, chairs spinning and drawers opening. She said someone told her that the land the strip mall was on used to have a funeral home and that maybe the place was haunted. Wow, a ghost in Crestwood! What a scoop!

Since a Walgreen's used to be in that location, I went to the new store and asked the lady behind the photo counter if she ever encountered any strange phenomena late at night before they moved. She laughed, then looked at me like I was nuts. End of sleuthing. Still, I haven't been back to that particular salon – not because of ghosts, but because I don't have any coupons.

So this Halloween, I'm not looking for ghosts, nor will I be looking for anything spooky. I'll have all I can handle trying to stay away from a bowl full of fun size Snickers. Now that's scary.
 

It’s a ghostly experience : Lemp Mansion

by Mary K. Morgan
The Halloween spirit is “alive” and well in South St. Louis on Demenil Place, the location of the very spooky, historic Lemp Family Mansion. There it is said that family tragedies produced many troubled souls that still inhabit the dwelling and appear from time to time to both suspecting and unsuspecting visitors. With this in mind, review the tales of sadness and death surrounding the Lemp Mansion and see if you believe it might qualify as a perfect setting for supernatural visitations by restless spirits. Certain spots in the house, where troubling acts and occurrences took place, are deemed to be very “active” by visiting paranormal researchers. So if it’s a ghostly good time that you seek, or just a fine meal, be sure to pay a visit. You might just get more of a “visit” than you bargained for.

And here’s how it all began…

Many, many years ago, in 1838, a man named Johann Adam Lemp traveled to St. Louis from far away Eschwege, Germany. He built a modest grocery store and it prospered. In his store he sold a homemade lager beer that he brewed in small quantities for family use. Demand for his special, light beer grew and soon he built a brewery near where the Arch stands today. His story was that of the “American Dream.” Adam died a millionaire and all the family holdings passed on to his son, William.

It was William’s life and times that set the dark tone of the Lemp Family and its heirs. It was he who bought the Victorian mansion at 3322 DeMenil Place and turned its 33 rooms into lavish living and entertaining quarters. A tunnel in the basement was constructed to connect the house to the limestone caves once used in the brewing process. Then he added an underground swimming pool, theater and bowling alley. By the 1890s, the Lemp Brewery and its holdings were considered the epitome of entrepreneurial success. And then, suddenly, tragedy struck the golden family. 

Frederick, William’s beloved son, died in 1901 at only 28 years of age. Frederick’s heart had failed his sickly body and, in doing so, his father William’s heart was irreparably broken. Next, William’s business partner and old friend, Frederick Pabst, died, leaving the already seriously depressed brewer devastated. In 1904, William committed suicide by shooting himself in the head, thus ending the second generation of the Lemp brewing dynasty on a very tragic note. 

It was in that same year, 1904, that the baton of the William J. Lemp Brewing Company was passed to the decadent William Lemp, Jr. Suddenly, the family mansion was filled with tradesmen, servants, lavish furniture and drapes, works of art and assorted finery. It was the very picture of over-indulgence, which was soon to turn into decadence. 

William Jr.’s beautiful, wealthy wife, Lillian, was known as the Lavender Lady because of her love of the color. But it was her love of shopping that was to be her legacy. And while she was at the boutiques, her unfaithful husband was cavorting with ladies of the evening—many ladies and many evenings. The result of one of his liaisons was a male child, born severely handicapped, known as The Monkey Boy, who was hidden away in the attic of the house for his entire lifetime.

Lillian and William, Jr., divorced in 1909 and custody of their child, William III, went to his father. Lillian was destroyed by the public display of their family’s dirty laundry. The scandalous behavior of William Jr. was the talk of the town, a town that could not get enough gossip about the wealthy, prominent family.

After the divorce, the business began to deteriorate rapidly. It was Prohibition in 1919 that hammered the final nail in the coffin that was once a brewing empire in St. Louis. The brewery was officially closed, but the ill-fated Lemp family continued its downward spiral of misfortune.

Elsa Lemp Wright was the youngest daughter of William Lemp, Sr. In 1910, she wed Thomas Wright, making her the richest heiress in St. Louis. In March, 1920, heiress Elsa committed suicide by shooting herself. 

December, 1929, the philandering William II shot himself in the heart with his father’s .38 revolver that had been used for the same purpose just a generation before. 

In 1943, William Lemp III died suddenly, and prematurely, of a heart attack at the age of forty-two.

William’s brother, Charles, decided to move back to the Mansion in 1943 with the child known as The Monkey Boy and a few servants. He became a captive of his own fears, including that of germs that caused him to constantly, obsessively wash his hands. Eventually he, too, committed suicide by revolver.

The Monkey Boy died in the Mansion during Charle’s period of residence.

The last of the Lemp’s, Edwin, died a peaceful death on his country estate in Kirkwood in 1970. As per his last wishes, all family papers and artifacts were burned upon his passing. 

The Bellefontaine Cemetery is the custodian of the remains of the tragic Lemp Family.

Today, the historic Lemp Mansion Restaurant, located at 3322 DeMenil Place in St. Louis, is not only a fine dining establishment, but also a popular bed & breakfast, and a must-see destination for those seeking to get a “feel” for the tragic family who once dwelled there. Often, radio shows focus on the Mansion for their Halloween night specials, but the eerie “cold spots” and the presence of the “restless, troubled souls” can be found at all times of the year, that is, if you are sensitive to such paranormal “vibes.” Pay them a visit and test your sensitivity this Halloween season. Happy Haunting!
                Reprint from the October 2007 issue of Java Journal.

Lemp Haunting!