Shudderton, Nevada — population 3,947 if you believe the sign, which I don’t — is one of those towns that clings to its ghost stories like they’re on the payroll. You can’t walk five feet without someone offering you a brochure for a haunted mine tour or a cursed saloon experience. So it’s no surprise that the crown jewel of this paranormal paradise is an allegedly haunted Victorian inn: The Widow’s Wail.
Yes, really. That’s the name. I checked twice.
According to locals — and a particularly breathless article in Paranormal American Heritage Monthly — the Widow’s Wail Inn is haunted by no fewer than five spirits. There’s a weeping bride (standard), a murderous maid (original), a piano-playing child (expected), a Civil War soldier who allegedly “never left,” and a woman named Dorothea who smells like cloves and judgment. The inn’s website calls it “a gateway to the beyond.” I called it “quaint,” which earned me a hard stare from the receptionist and a room next to the boiler.
My room was “The Lavender Room,” named after a color scheme and nothing else. Supposedly haunted by the piano child, who once pushed a guest’s slippers across the carpet. What bravery. I settled in, took notes, drank their complimentary chamomile tea (allegedly “spiritually blessed,” according to the tag), and waited to be frightened.
Nothing happened. Unless you count the wallpaper — which was offensive, but not in a supernatural way.
Around midnight, a cold draft crept under the door. A sign, perhaps? No. It was just Shudderton’s charming lack of modern insulation. I heard no whispers. No ghostly music. No floating slippers. I did, however, enjoy the best water pressure I’ve encountered in a decade and slept so deeply I missed breakfast.
The next morning, the innkeeper asked if I’d “felt her.” I assumed she meant the ghost, not the maid who accidentally walked in on me brushing my teeth. I replied, “Yes. She seemed especially invested in helping me achieve a full eight hours.” That earned me a knowing nod and a complimentary “haunted biscotti” to go.
Final thought? The Widow’s Wail Inn is a lovely place to stay — assuming you’re not staying for ghosts. If Dorothea’s spirit really is wandering the halls, she’s probably just trying to find the thermostat. And if she smells like cloves, it’s only because the housekeeping staff burns too much incense.