The Ghost of Heil House

I've lived in four houses in my lifetime that were also occupied by a ghost. The first one was a bit unnerving but by the time we purchased the Heil House this past summer, the warning of a ghost being included in the sale was really no big deal. It just added to the value for me. I had grown very fond of the other ghosts I'd known and looked forward to this newest one. On the day of closing, the previous owner of Heil House let us know that she had said good-bye to the ghostly lady, telling us of some of her antics, one of which was turning on the overhead bedroom light in the middle of the night. I asked Cathy if she'd ever seen this ghost?

"Just her face. . ."
"From what century?" I like to know the era of my ghosts. My favorite was an 18th century young man at Colonial Williamsburg.
"Probably the 1800s."
Perfect.

Sure enough, the first night we slept at Heil House, the light came on in the bedroom. . .at 2:00 a.m. The next night, same thing. I decided to move upstairs the third night and sleep in one of the twin beds, to see what she would do up there. The beds were side-by-side in the middle of the room. Yet, each morning when I awoke, my bed had relocated itself to the end of the room. There were rollers on the bed but no way did mine walk by itself down there. For over a week, I'd go to sleep with the bed in the center and wake up in other places in the room. It was almost fun finding out where I'd landed each morning. I never felt the bed move. It never woke me up. But, there I was.

In the meantime, the light in the downstairs bedroom continued to come on. Sometimes at 2:00 and sometimes at 3:00. This was one busy lady. . .

After about five days of my bed moving around, I decided to place it in the corner of one end of the room, the end she seemed to favor. At the same time, I pulled out my 18th-19th century costumes and hung a few pieces on the peg board. From that time on, my bed didn't move and she seemed to have accepted me into her family.

John has a different story. To this day, she continues to light up his night at the oddest times. Not every night as before but enough nights that his sleep gets interrupted. I think she's sweet on him and trying to get his attention. He sees no humor in that thought. . .but he's a trooper. . .He simply rolls over and turns out the light for her.

Who this lady spirit is, we don't know. We have not seen her face, but then we wouldn't recognize who she was anyway. My guess is that it's John Heil's wife, Francisca, since she was about the only lady who lived at 159 N. Main during the 19th century. John and Francisca married in 1866 in Louisville, Ky. It was the second marriage for both of them. Francisca had children in Ste. Genevieve and possibly John did also. They moved into the little house on Main Street about 1867 and lived there until their deaths in 1886, within nine days of each other. Their deaths were made even more sad due to recent events in their lives. In 1885 they had lost all their money in a bank failure. Many of the German immigrants didn't trust banks and hid their money in the house or buried it in the back yard. Evidently, John didn't follow suit. According to the obituaries, the Heils lost everything. . .

"Mrs. Heyl and her aged husband were a frugal and industrious pair who by the industry of their hands and constant labor, managed to maintain themselves in the comfort and lay by a little pittance for their old age.  That hope and stay of their declining years was swept away in the failure of our banks leaving the old couple penniless.  It was this that made the failure so hard to endure and which aroused such indignation among our people.  Had only the little savings of these and others like them been sparred from the wreck, our people might have looked upon the situation philosphically, if not resignedly.  It was indeed a wicked and grevious wrong," F. Heil Obituary Jan 1886

"Our readers well know the last distressing calamity that befell this poor man. It was a 'wicked and grievous wrong,' but, fortunately, the poor aged couple had fortitude enough to face want rather than endure the humiliation of going to the county farm. Broken-hearted by the loss sustained last winter in the bank failure. . ." J Heyl Obituary 16 Jan 1886

After Franciska died on 2 January 1886, John lost the will to live. . .

Ste. Genevieve Herald, Ste. Genevieve, Missouri, Saturday Jan. 16, 1886
--"Papa Heyl" has followed the partner of his declining years. Only nine days after the "meek and gentle sufferer" had passed "beyond the reach of want and the vicissitudes of fortune," yea, beyond the hearing of those who would scoff at her and add insult to injury, the bereaved husband, too, passed away to join her, with whom he had lived a life of contentment, such as only frugal and industrious habits can afford. . .now by the loss of the partner of his joys and sorrows, Mr. Heyl lay down on his humble bed with the expressed wish to die, and death, often more merciful than man, heard his prayer and released him from his misery. On Monday evening he died at the age of about 82 years and 10 months. The earthly remains were laid to rest in the Catholic cemetery on Wednesday. May eternal peace be his portion."

The question is, could Francisca still be lamenting over the loss of money and friends? Is her spirit remaining at the home her loving husband built for her in search of some consolation? And does she have my John mixed up with her John? Could be. . .Stranger things have happened in Ste. Genevieve. . .