Haunted History: The Spirits of Amato Opera House on the Bowery
Folks! ’tis the season!! For hauntings, but for me they happen all year ’round. Last one for awhile unless you let us know you want more!!!
A funny thing happened on my way to the forum…or IN the forum of the Amato Opera House. Over the summer, I spent a day documenting the interior demolition of the Bowery icon, but opted to leave the events that occurred that day for another time.
One tremendous remnant was the day planner from 1963/1964 that fell out from behind one of the remaining pianos. Also, trust me when I tell you this – physically, no one remains, but spiritually? Whomever moves in is going to have one hell of a time.
The following explains why I mentioned that:
The day was hot, the sun was blazing through the windows and while many believe most hauntings occur at night, I object wholeheartedly.
As I made my up the debris-filled stairs onto one of the upper floors of the Amato Opera House, there stood a piano. A sad reminder of the jovial nature of the place; it sat alone, decomposing. To my right was a ladder, and on the floor I noticed a wig. I ventured further to find yet another decomposing piano. Both instruments looked as though they hadn’t been played in years. Perhaps a construction worker tried their hand and caused a key to stick? Who knows, but what happened next would flout that theory.
At first just a key, then a chord, then an adrenaline-inducing full B scale.
I saw no keys moving. Ivory covered in dust. Defunct. There was a melancholy feel in the room and while I wanted to run, my feet stuck firm to the floor.
I called out to the man who had let me in (his name is changed):
“Adam, did you hear that?”
Turns out Adam, not an adventurer and seemingly put off by the darkness (even in the daylight), had stepped outside. He would have had to walk across the remains of the stage through the debris and up the stairs. I would have heard him. There is no doubt.
It was silent again and so I turned to leave, hoping my Chucks wouldn’t fail me. Beneath my feet I heard a key play. Then again a chord and finally, that same full B scale. Something was running its hands hard across the keys of the first piano, but wasn’t I alone? I charged downstairs to find the room empty. Did I really expect to see anything but? Well, yes, kind of.
I called out to Adam again:
What happened next defies gravity and reason. The wig on the floor (look towards the front of the photo to the right):
was now here:
Freaked and equally fascinated, I hightailed it back upstairs (don’t ask me why, I often act before I think). That day planner?
“One tremendous remnant was the day planner from 1963/1964 that fell out from behind one of the remaining pianos” was sitting atop the keys of the second piano.
As an aside, do either of these instruments appear operational to you?
It was time to GET OUT.
Down the steps at a dangerous speed, under the orchestra pit, back onto the stage, through the seating area, up another set of steps and out the front door.
Dripping sweat and covered in dust, I saw Adam outside on his phone.
He looked at me with genuine concern and asked if I was ok.
My response was concise and final: “you, my friend, are going to have a hell of a time finding a tenant that stays.”
He looked perplexed, but there was nothing more to say. I grabbed my bag of tools and helped shut the gate all the while knowing that even though no one was inside – something definitely remained.
Commenters, walls are talking and haunting is happening.