Haunted Ontario 4. Terry Boyle

the Gananoque mill.

      Unfortunately, Charles McDonald died in 1826, at the age of forty. A fire destroyed Blinkbonnie that same year. Charles’ eldest son, William Stone MacDonald (he changed the spelling of his surname), joined his late father’s firm in 1833. Blinkbonnie was completely restored and expanded by 1843. William lived at Blinkbonnie with his wife, Isabella Hall, and cared for his invalid mother during the restoration years.

      William and Isabella’s son, Charles, was born in 1837, and became a civil engineer. In 1869 he opened an office in New York City, where he was appointed a trustee in the building of the Brooklyn Bridge. When William Stone MacDonald died in 1902, Charles inherited the property. He made extensive renovations to the main house and the surrounding buildings.

      When Charles’s wife died in 1912, he gave his son, William, all the property and securities of the MacDonald family.

      William, known about town as Mr. Willie, lived in Brooklyn, New York, but spent his summers at Blinkbonnie with his father, Charles. William died of a sudden heart attack in 1920 without a will and all the holdings, including Blinkbonnie, were sold to settle the estate. Charles wept at the prospect of losing the ancestral home.

      ~ ~ ~

      School teacher Rebecca Edwards purchased Blinkbonnie in 1923, and proceeded to convert the property into a summer hotel. Charles MacDonald begged Miss Edwards to allow him to take up residence at his beloved Blinkbonnie for his remaining years. Fortunately she was delighted to let him do so. She even searched for some of the family antiques that had been sold to furnish his living quarters. Those she could not find she replaced with objects of equal age and style. Charles, restored to his original home, was a fortunate and happy man. He died in 1928, but many feel he never did leave Blinkbonnie.

      Blinkbonnie’s reputation as one of the finest hotels in the Thousand Islands spread far and wide. This fame was deserved, for the accommodations were excellent and the grounds and gardens breathtaking. Miss Edwards was very particular in her care of each guest room. She continued to restore and refine Blinkbonnie with fine linens, beautiful china, and period lamps and figurines. The staff were all well trained and encouraged to feel like part of the family. All the MacDonald buildings were eventually converted to guesthouses, as well as the adjacent carriage houses and cottages.

      Sadly, Miss Edwards’ determination to maintain this level of excellence finally cost her the hotel, because she did not have the means to maintain it after her retirement from teaching. Blinkbonnie was sold in 1957, divided into private homes, and was passed to many successive owners. It became a dark shadow of its former self.

      Only Charles remained a witness to the sad changes. Did Rebecca Edwards choose to stay as well? Did her years of ownership and love of Blinkbonnie hold her to it?

      In 1983, the Seal family purchased the historic inn. Their intent was to restore the nineteenth-century building and property to its former glory.

      The restored Blinkbonnie Harbour Inn features fifty units, including whirlpool suites, a bistro restaurant, a pool, and an English-style pub. The convention facilities can accommodate up to 120 people. Derek, the maintenance supervisor, has spent the last thirteen years taking care of the building, the property, and the guests of the inn — and perhaps Charles himself.

      “I often hear footsteps and doors opening and closing, and sometimes I can hear a woman singing in the lounge area,” said Derek. Of course no one is to be seen.

      A few years ago, Derek encountered a man at Blinkbonnie who claimed to be a psychic. According to him, he could sense the presence of a man, a woman, and a little girl. For years, people have acknowledged the presence of Charles MacDonald’s spirit. But who could the woman and the little girl be?

      Miss Edwards is thought to be the woman, possibly too attached to leave. After all, she put her heart and soul into Blinkbonnie. As for the little girl, no one seems to know.

      The third floor of Blinkbonnie has not been used for several years. Water and electricity is shut off to this level. One night after closing time, Derek was making his final rounds of the building when he heard water running. Oddly enough, the sound was coming from the third floor. Derek and a fellow employee, Mark, started up the stairs. Yes, there was water running somewhere on the third floor. How could this be when the water was shut off to this level?

      The men soon discovered that the sound was coming from the bathroom. As they stood outside the door the noise stopped. They entered cautiously. The bathtub was full of water. And there was something even more bizarre about the tub full of water — there was no stopper in the drain!

      Mark is quite familiar with Blinkbonnie. He grew up across the street from the inn. In the fall of 1985 he started to work there full-time as a bus boy. “I worked as a waiter, night man, bartender, maintenance person, and finally assistant manager. I lived up on the third floor for two years in 1987 to ’88. In those days the inn closed down for the winter and I would be the only person residing in the building.”

      He has much to relate about ghostly activity. “Once, in the middle of the night, I heard this loud crash in the bathroom. I sat up. I decided to check it out. When I entered the bathroom, I discovered the glass globe that covered the ceiling light bulb had crashed to the floor and broken. The light bulb was screwed in and intact. You would have to unscrew it in order for the globe to fall to the floor.

      “On another occasion I awoke to the sound of a splash against the window. It sounded like someone had thrown a snowball at the glass. I got up and peeked out the curtain. There was snow on the ground but no footprints.”

      In 1985, employees of the Federal Health and Welfare Department booked a number of rooms at Blinkbonnie for a holiday. These guests had more in mind than pure relaxation. They brought an Aboriginal psychic with them, intending to conduct a séance. At the time, Mark was working as a bartender. He told me what happened. “The group decided to hold the séance in room 302. They had brought a ouija board with them. During the séance, the psychic saw the figure of Charles MacDonald appear in the room.

      “The weirdest thing about this session was when the Native woman saw the ghost of a young girl appear next to her, but the girl was part of their group and still very much alive. The poor girl fled the room and rushed down to where I was at the bar. She was mortified. Did this mean she was going to die? The whole experience was never explained.”

      Although Mark is no longer employed at Blinkbonnie, he will never forget the unexplained experiences he encountered while working there.

      On June 13, 2014, journalist Wayne Lowrie wrote,

      In its most recent incarnation, the Blinkbonnie is part of the Clarion Inn. Its owner had plans to turn it into a restaurant/pub but last month he approached the town hall for a demolition permit. The application was later withdrawn and last week town council voted to put the Blinkbonnie on a list of buildings of historic interest.

      The Blinkbonnie is now up for sale, and its future is uncertain.

      Charles MacDonald is likely to remain at Blinkbonnie forever. After all, it was his most beloved home. Are any of us likely to find such a suitable place, and if we do, would we want to leave it either?

      Grafton Village Inn

      ~ Grafton ~

      A woman searches through empty rooms and narrow hallways in the Grafton Village Inn, looking for a place to rest. She glides up the central staircase and enters the second floor ballroom. Her attention is drawn to a window overlooking the quiet main street. For a brief moment she glances outside before her gaze settles on the windowsill. A tear drops onto a fractured slab of misplaced limestone resting on the ledge. The word Fran is visible on the slab. In that moment she fades from sight. The Grafton Village Inn, it seems, has a permanent guest.

      Driving east along Highway 2 last summer, I reached the small village of Grafton and first saw the inn. Somehow I knew a spirit haunted that building. I turned around and parked across the road. I crossed the street, opened the front door, and walked in. I promptly asked the first waitress I saw if the place was haunted. “Oh, yes,” she replied. “Come with me.”