The Town Square’s Poltergeist Problem
Presidio's town square hides a chilling secret. A young soldier recounts hearing chains dragging and a woman's mournful cries, echoing through the night. This spectral disturbance is not an isolated incident, as the town square is rumored to be haunted.
Picture a small, timeworn town square that dates back to the year 1703, with its cobblestones and low buildings that have soaked up over 300 years of history. This place was once the central square of a Presidio—a military fort for those who may not be aware—and if it could talk, it would surely have more stories to tell than I’d ever have patience to listen to. But then, these old towns are like that. They’re the sorts of places where secrets seem to seep from the walls and where you can’t help but feel that, after sundown, the past and present might well bump into each other on the way down the street.
Not that long ago—say, five or six years back—I found myself in a peculiar position, working at the Municipal Palace. Now, if you’ve never had the opportunity to work in a municipal palace of a 300-year-old town, let me tell you, it’s a mix of both intrigue and mind-numbing boredom. This is a place where, depending on the day, you might be handed some tax records from 1910 and expected to act thrilled, or you might get roped into listening to a local’s rambling tales of paranormal run-ins and other eerie bits of lore. On one such afternoon, I’d heard enough humdrum for the day and decided to pay a visit to a group of soldiers stationed nearby. These soldiers were occupying a small, unimpressive building—a former grocery store that now, at a stretch, served as a barracks.