On one hand it could be said that The Davenport began with its opening in September of 1914. On the other hand it could be said that The Davenport really began in 1889 as two separate buildings, the Pennington Hotel and Davenport's Restaurant. In 1914, much of the block on which the hotel now stands was razed and the 14 story, 400 room Davenport built, incorporating the Pennington Hotel and parts of the Pfister Block with its magnificent Marie Antoinette Ball Room. This ball room was designed earlier by Kirtland Cutter, the same architect responsible for the Davenport.
By far the most luxurious hotel in Spokane, The Davenport has, in its century of receiving thousands of guests annually, experienced the odd mishap and even the odd tragedy. One in particular was the death in 1920 of 68 year old Ellen McNamara when she fell through a skylight to the marble floor below. It seems that ever since then she has haunted the halls and may even have company in the persons of other ghosts encountered in the hotel, one being that of the hotel founder Louis Davenport.
Davenport ghost has roots in fact
THURSDAY, AUG. 18, 2005
For decades “guests have reported seeing a woman dressed in 1920s fashion peering over the railing as though looking for someone in the lobby below,” said Tom McArthur, The Davenport’s communications director.
“Now we know the ghost story is based in fact.”
Wednesday marked the 85th anniversary of the night the 68-year-old widow lost a brief battle with gravity.
McArthur has heard all the stories but never put much serious stock in them. A history lover, he decided to see if any facts could be found to explain all the alleged ghosts who add to the 90-year-old landmark’s rich past.
From tales of vanishing bellhops to invisible cigar smokers, The Davenport has more spirits than a state liquor store. Some say the ghost of hotel founder Louis D. still roams the place.
A researcher helping McArthur discovered the basis of the mezzanine apparition while looking through the archives of this newspaper. “Matron Falls To Death Through Hotel Skylight,” blared the front page headline on Aug. 18, 1920. Subscribers surely gasped to wake up and read this shocker.
It happened during dinner hour. McNamara, a rich widow from New York, was touring the West with her sister and two cousins. They were staying at The Davenport and planned to leave for Glacier National Park the next morning. What happened put a dent in that plan.
According to the story, McNamara wasn’t feeling well. She decided to take some air on the third floor cement walkway while her companions went to dinner in the main floor Isabella Room.
For whatever reason, McNamara went through the door into the large pagoda that covers the glass skylight high above the lobby court. There was a catwalk used by workers to make repairs. But McNamara stepped on the glass panels. Down she went, striking the floor below. She landed a few feet into the court on the Sprague Street side.
“Witnesses of the fall said the woman’s shoulder struck the floor first and that her head crashed against the stone,” wrote the unnamed reporter who covered the death. “Perhaps 100 persons saw her fall. Several men rushed to her and carried her to a couch. She was conscious for a few seconds and asked, ‘Where did I go?’ before she became insensible.”
John O’Shea, a doctor dining in the hotel, gave the unconscious woman a brief exam before moving McNamara – to her room. About an hour after her fall, she was dead.
Late Wednesday afternoon I joined McArthur and a small gathering in The Davenport lobby. We stood near the fireplace, where a red rose of remembrance had been placed on the mantle, and each of us hoisted a glass of champagne. My first toast to a ghost.
“If you watch carefully you might see her,” said Evelyn Conant, 80, a former Davenport worker who once lived in the hotel. “And if you listen you might hear her say … .
” ‘Where did I go?’ “
From the Spokane Spokesman-Review