On the way to the Goldfield Hotel with my family in 2012, we stop at the Mizpah Hotel  in Tonopah and visit room 309, where my parents—Bryan and Darlene—had their own ghostly adventure years ago.

Mom and Dad watched the breaking news on the television in disbelief: Lady Diana died in a car accident. After they absorbed the sad story, they switched off the lights and retired for the evening. The room, not much bigger than the double bed, was cozy with two windows that could coax coolness from a Nevada breeze if there had been one. They slept anyway.

Until midnight.


My parents bolted upright at the sound of bottles smashing around their heads.

Flipping on the bedside lamp, Dad leapt out of bed, inspecting the room and their bathroom with the claw-foot tub, and spied out the two windows.

Everything outside was placid. No one on the street. And the nearby guestrooms remained quiet.

When comparing their experiences with one another, my parents found they each had heard exactly the same noise.

“It felt as if a long table, loaded with bottles, was elevated inches over our heads. It sounded like someone swatted the bottles off the table onto a hard floor where the glass shattered,” Mom said.

Both had been sleeping soundly when the deafening sound woke them. They’re convinced it happened in their room.

During our 2012 visit, I assessed the room’s situation and if anything could explain the shattering clamor. Guest rooms surrounded it—above, below and next door. There wasn’t a kitchen or dining room nearby. The windows, which had unobstructed views, faced a small parking lot and side street. Surely if someone had broken a bunch of glass that evening, Dad would’ve seen someone.

It remains a mystery why a spirit would do this in what had always been a guestroom. Does anyone have any ideas they’d like to share?


Mizpah Hotel: History, Happenings and Hauntings by Janice Oberding and Virginia Ridgway