Chapter 11
After Gretchen Weider had checked out once again from the Adler, I made a trip to the Clausen place and put a twenty-dollar-bill in the mailbox.
The box in the back of the pickup truck was full of new punch card door locks, which Uncle Mordy had ordered a few weeks prior. I had maintenance get started on them right away. We had more than enough staff to get everything started up again after the weekend. Gregory Cruikshank suddenly felt better and came back to work, along with a few others who apparently chose to keep their distance on carpet-cleaning day. I thought to ask him if he'd had any strange experiences with ghosts or poltergeists during their time at the Adler, but one again, there was a part of me that didn't want to know. I spent another four years as acting GM of the Adler, and after four years of platonic rendezvous, I decided to call it quits. It was too much to weigh on a young heart. These days, they call it, baggage. I never did find someone to take my heart. She's still my "only one."
Over time, the village of Sharon Springs, New York lost its appeal to modern travelers and resort-goers. The vintage 30's fixtures, 70's carpet and wallpaper unique to every room, eight-inch baseboards, and dumbwaiter service just didn't hold up against twenty-first century luxury expectations. Uncle Mordy sold the Adler, while it still had a bit of value, after closing its doors in 2004. Gretchen Weider passed on in '92, thankfully--she didn't see its demise. The reunions stopped. Neither of the sisters have been seen ever since.
I got your letter yesterday from your law firm, and I called his firm to see if I could figure out what had happened. As you know, Mordecai Yarkony passed away a few months ago, and apparently he'd gotten the best of your clients when he sold the property. The records weren't filed properly as I understand, and since his passing, Uncle Mordy's assets and personal papers were gone through more precisely. Among them was a document that suggested the Adler wasn't actually his to sell, which I can imagine is causing quite a stir in the hearts and minds of the folks who paid him for it. It seems Uncle Mordy transferred ownership of the hotel to yours truly back in '79, but didn't bother mentioning it to anyone.
I've included a quit claim deed to the property, naming your clients as the owners of any interest I may have had. It seems fair that your clients have paid for it, and in the end, I'll get the money for it, so this should clear things up. I also thought it wouldn't be right of me to fail to mention the supernatural occurrences and brutal history of the hotel, which is why you know so much (and probably quite a bit more than necessary) now. Truth be told, I just love telling the story.
It's taken a lot of years to put the Adler behind me, and the memories that came with it. Sometimes I wonder, if the right person came around, if she might come back for a chat--maybe stir up some trouble. I'll turn 70 this year, and this letter has reinvigorated the memories once more. So, in case you don't hear from me again, look for me there, in Sharon Springs, NY. I'm going to take another trip out there. You never know what might come up.
Sincerely,
Stephen Goldman
P.S. Below is everything I could find on the state of the Adler as of today.
Start at Chapter 1 -- Next chapter -- theprose.com/post/741541