A DEVILISH PRANK AT THE HOUSE OF THE BLUE ANGEL

 

THE HOUSE OF THE BLUE ANGEL—A DEVILISH PRANK!

House of the Blue Angel

A RECENT EMAIL from friend referenced the House of the Blue Angel. Some 50 years ago, this was our town's answer to the House on Haunted Hill—West Union's very own haunted house, an abandoned farmhouse situated just northwest of town. I emailed him back that I indeed had a story to tell about that legendary haunted house. I also shared the email with a couple of other friends—one of whom suggested it might make a good piece for the newsletter. So, here it is . . . however, as the narrator at the opening of the radio series Dragnet used to say: "Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent . . .”

BACK IN THE '60s when I was still in my teens, I used to hang out with my three best friends, Steve, Jerry and Roger. We called ourselves the Four Shadows and embarked on countless little antics—never anything malicious, but always "pushing the envelope." We were just four immature teens, coming of age with too much energy and probably not enough responsibilities. Naturally, when we heard about the House of the Blue Angel, we had to track it down and check it out. During this same time period, I was also playing in the Rubber Band, performing every weekend at Matter's Ballroom in Decorah. A group of girls from Decorah often attended our dances, and I began spending time with one of them, Connie—not really dating but just chumming around. You'll see how this all becomes relevant as my little story unfolds. One day I got the wild idea to wire up the House of the Blue Angel with hidden speakers in the attic connected to a tape player just inside the front door. The Shadows and I concocted a ghost story about a demented composer from the 1800s who had lived in the house. Our tale claimed that the locals believed his spirit still haunted the place. According to legend, his raspy wheeze echoed through the night; and once a year, on Halloween at the stroke of midnight, he would maniacally play a harpsichord from his attic. So, we filled poor Connie and her friend Laura's heads with our fabricated tale, then invited them to accompany us to the House of the Blue Angel on Halloween night. The plan was for me to run ahead under the pretense of clearing the path, but really, I was there to start the tape recorder hidden just inside the front door. The tape began with a minute or two of silence, then gradually introduced raspy breathing that grew louder until it exploded into deafening harpsichord music. So, as the tape began rolling with silence, we led the trembling girls to the entrance of the deserted house. When the labored breathing on the tape became noticeable, the girls started to panic. And when the harpsichord music blasted out, poor Connie's knees buckled; and both girls bolted back to my '66 Chevy (more on that car later.) It was a nasty prank, but the girls suffered no lasting harm and were only mad at us for a week or two (or maybe three!)

Pastry sack from West Union's local bakery, late 1960s

During those years, there was a bakery in West Union that had little paper sacks imprinted with a dandy-looking graphic of a blue, dancing baker holding a cake. At some point, I returned to the House of the Blue Angel and found the infamous Blue Angel itself! It was an image imprinted on the plaster wall at the top of the staircase—just above a doorway. It was about 8"x8". I carefully chipped away the iconic angel, removed it and replaced it by gluing on a cutout of the Blue Baker from the bakery bag.

The iconic Blue Angel removed from the haunted house and stored in Doug's basement

I then re-christened the House of the Blue Angel as the House of the Blue Baker. That’s also where my trusty old Chevy Bel Air got its name, The Blue Baker—as well as, years later, my music publishing company, Blue Baker Music, BMI. And by the way, the original "Blue Angel" from that abandoned farmhouse is safe & sound and currently archived in a hermetically-sealed container in my basement!

The Blue Baker

So, that's the story of the House of the Blue Angel. And as my friend Lefty would say, "That's my story... and I'm stickin' to it!"