The island that isn't. (Whiskey Island, OH)

Whiskey Island, near downtown Cleveland, originated as an outlet for procuring bootlegged booze acquired from our neighbors to the North during prohibition. A distillery was erected here in 1836 and many Irish immigrants established makeshift homes in the area. In addition to the not so legal goings on, it was also used for shipping and railway transportation. The "island" is actually a peninsula located down a rough and narrow road east of Edgewater Park. In attempts to boost commerce in the area, the way is now (just recently, actually) clearly marked. Some of the roads, leading back to the now bustling marinas, used to be sections of the Erie Canal from what one of my roommates explained.

I suppose, in some light, this may lend credence to many claims of the area to be haunted. There's a saying that "for every mile of canal, an Irishman is buried," because countless immigrants died of disease and injury during construction of the canal. Nobody cared about supplying an actual grave for the poor souls, so they were buried beneath the canal itself and forgotten. Given the state of the city during those times, I cannot imagine it to have been a cheerful place.

Malaria ran rampant in the canal, denizens of society were supplied with an endless supply of victims here. It was for this reason and many grisly others that "Untouchable" Eliot Ness took it upon himself to create some kind of a reform with his "crime sweep." Few people could be bothered with how or why the homeless, drifters and hookers ended up dead. There are also believeable rumors that murderers found the construction sites to be a prime place for hiding and dumping bodies. Aw, hell, what's one more? If a body was left too long in the canal without being discovered, who would be able to tell if they drowned, fell, or died of some disease?

While there are documented accounts of the infamous Torso Killer dumping body parts in the canals, I have not been able to locate any other official stories relating. My guess is that they were either A: not important enough to make official news, B: were never found, or C: pointedly forgotten.

Nowadays, Whiskey Island holds a drastically different air. It's mainly a picnic and party spot. The Sunset Grille located in Wendy Park boasts good food, great drinks, and of course: a haunted bathroom. I suspect that the only spirits to be found in the establishment are the kind you can imbibe, but that's probably just my cynicism's opinion. Many have reported faucets turning on, stall doors slamming just as they enter or while they're inside, and the feeling of being watched as they go about their, uh, business. I think it's safe to say these allegations can be attributed to nothing more than publicity scheming or are the product of knocking back a bit too much of grandpappy's favorite medicine.

Either way, after a long walk around the peninsula today, I found myself in need of said restroom. Needless to say, the only creepy feeling I got was from having to brush a hair from the toilet seat. Maybe I had mistaken the haunted one for the women's, but I wasn't up to investigating the men's.

All in all, Whiskey Island is working on becoming a prime family getaway spot, but if I had to choose, I'd still go for Edgewater Park. They've supposedly got Bloody Mary wandering up and down the shoreline, anyway, and far less tampon applicators washed up on the beach.