I have a vivid childhood memory of my parents taking me to a family restaurant built inside an old house. This was back sometime in the mid-'80s. It was a summer place, likely out on the coast or somewhere along the Columbia River Gorge. I can't remember the name and neither can my mom and dad but one thing sticks out in my mind: the bathroom.

At some point during the meal, I ran upstairs to use the facilities, completely oblivious to what was sitting in an old, claw-foot bathtub in front of the toilet. When I turned around, I found a life-sized dummy in a top hat and tails slouched in the tub, gleefully hoisting a champagne glass. It looked sort of like WC Fields.

I started screaming and ran back to the table. I've told this story to other people who have grown up around Portland. A few of them also remember the restaurant and the mannequin in the bathroom but none of us can remember where the place was or the name.

It's probably long gone by now. Thankfully, the McMenamins empire is around to inspire nightmares in a whole new generation of Oregonians. Each location has at least one creepy mural. The dark halls of the Kennedy School are lined with fuzzy, black and white photos of eerie school kids. Edgefield's corridors contain the same sort of vaguely sinister, blown-up historical photos of its inhabitants during its days as a poor farm.

This freestanding doorway in one of the gardens is pretty disconcerting. It seems to whisper, "Come, children. Pass through this door into a darkly enchanted world, most likely inhabited by the scariest puppets in the Jim Henson Workshop and/or an '80s-era David Bowie dressed in tights. Prepare to "Dance, Magic Dance" FOR ALL ETERNITY! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Is that a reference to Labyrynth? Absolutely.

But I think the award for the creepiest bit of decor in all of the McMenamins restaurants should go to a painting at the top of the stairs on the third floor of the Cornelius Pass Roadhouse. The original restaurant, built inside a 19th century farmhouse, is now only used for special events and was upsurged by the newer, larger Imbrie Hall Pub out back.

Last summer, I met up with some people out there for dinner. I arrived before everyone else and, with some time to kill, I wandered into the house and started poking around. When I looked up the darkened stairs, for a good five seconds, I was convinced the painting of the girl below was real. While I didn't run out of the house screaming, the incident immediately reminded me of the bathtub dummy. And, yeah, of the twins from The Shining too.

I tried to play a prank on two colleagues during a trip to the Roadhouse a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, someone left all the lights on, thus ruining the illusion. I climbed up to see what the girl is pointing at and a chill made it at least halfway up my spine. The third floor of the roadhouse has a low ceiling and there's only one door. A tiny, old wooden door.

With a deadbolt.

What are the staff keeping in there? A terrible secret? A somewhat terrible secret? Or pot plants?

I think it's pot plants. Or old table cloths.

Labels: creepy, McMenamins

Last week I had to spend a day out in Troutdale on a work-related field trip. After pulling off I-84 I immediately got lost and wound up in the parking lot of Edgefield. It's good to now know there's a 74-acre sized bar just up the street from one of my company's offices.

I detoxed underneath the manor's water tank after work with a plate of jambalaya and a pint of Rubinator. I wound up taking the incredibly long way home afterward. Here's an iPhone photo of the setting sun taken from Crown Point. The phone's lens turned the vista into some sort of eerie moonscape. Is that the Columbia River Gorge or is it the surface of some strange, alien world? I'll let you decide.

And, if you're curious, here's how Multnomah Falls is looking these days:

With the sun easing into the hills as I was driving back towards Portland, the Columbia was soaked in a sort of "fried gold" hue. I should have probably pulled over and taken a quick snapshot. Sorry, internets. I've failed you.

Labels: McMenamins, nature

My dad and I were on the fourth hole of the manor's golf course last night when I heard "With a Little Help From My Friends" off in the distance. Ringo Starr was there with the All Star Band and their show on the hotel's front lawn totally screwed up my putts. I blame "Dreamwaver" for the ball I lost in the brier on hole nine. Thanks for nothing, Gary Wright.

We stayed long enough to eavesdrop on part of the set from the rocking chairs on one of the hotel's porches. A drunk couple sitting nearby decided to slur their way through "Yellow Submarine" before staggering into the show when the guards working the gate weren't paying attention.

Labels: Booze, McMenamins, music

The McMenamins empire has never shied away from the colorful and sometimes sad histories of the buildings they renovate to house their restaurants and hotels. The Edgefield is filled with portraits of people who lived there when it was a poor farm. The upper floor of the White Eagle has a painting of Rose, the prostitute who was murdered in one of the saloon/hotel's rooms (and reportedly haunts the place). The Chapel Pub contains similar tributes to its former history as a mortuary.

But now that the family-friendly "kingdom" is set to take over the old Club Portland, I wonder how they'll handle the building's former status as a, well, gay bathhouse with a reported military-themed "play area" in the basement.

Even weirder: they're planning to keep the steam baths.

Labels: McMenamins

When I first heard that McMenamins was planning to convert a north Portland mortuary into both a brewpub and their company headquarters, my first thought was "neat." The "neat" was followed by "woah, it will probably be haunted" and, finally, "maybe this is a bad idea." After all, isn't it a little bit crass to turn a place of mourning into a place of getting liquored up? What would be the next step in McMenamins ongoing quest to convert every Portland building over 50 years old into pub? A mausoleum? An abortion clinic?

While the Chapel Pub may seem like a cold hearted idea on paper, the concept makes sense once you actually set foot inside. The new owners have remodeled the building with loving care. Much like other links in the empire's chain, the pub is littered with tributes to its past. Instead of ignoring the place's history, McMenamins has embraced it.

While they've hardly stuck the bar in the old embalming room, murals of former owners, luminaries and events cover the walls. The restaurant itself is housed in the main chapel with the stained glass windows still in place. I figured the pub would be cold and creepy but it's actually warm and inviting. Against all the odds and, much like the Bijou Art Cinemas, a former mortuary turned movie theater in Eugene, it all somehow works.

And the menu isn't half bad either. There are a few dishes at the Chapel Pub that I haven't seen at other McMenamins hubs. In addition to the usual array of burgers and sandwiches, there's several Cajun dishes. During a recent visit, I gave the spicy mac n' cheese with chicken a shot. It was pretty hearty and a step up from yet another Captain Neon Burger.

While McMenamins pulled off a small miracle with the Chapel Pub, despite its history, they should probably hold off on buying any real estate up at Riverview Cemetery.

Labels: Booze, McMenamins