THE REED HOUSE

Reed House was built in 1892 by Samuel Harrison Reed, one of Vanderbilt's lawyers. The huge, pale yellow edifice boasts an elaborate turret between its two wings, a wrap-around piazza, ten fireplaces--one in each of its five guest rooms--and sixty-two windows. It is on the National Register of Historic Places.

One look at Reed House and the thought at least crosses your mind that it is haunted. It has all the fine characteristics that a haunted house should have. Marge Turcott is the current owner and tells the story of the house: "The first night we slept here we were awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of heavy footsteps on the back stairs. I have a teenage daughter, and it occurred to me that she might be trying to sneak someone into her foom, so I waited about ten minutes and then went upstairs. She was sound asleep, her brothers were asleep, and there was no sign of anything anywhere. For several years, anytime someone slept here who had never been here before, we would hear the sound of those same steps on the back stairs. We got so that we would know we were going to hear it anytime we had visitors or new people in the house. Since the steps have been carpeted we don't hear them, and if they are still there, they must certainly be only a soft thud in the night, which no longer wakes us up.

The most unusual experience has been reserved for Marge herself and has seldom happened when others have been in the house. On the nights she has been alone here over the years, she has sometimes heard the sounds of a ghostly pool game being played in the small room behind the parlor.

"It begins with my hearing the break when the balls go. Then the balls hit each other, and in a moment of so, there would be the crack of one ball striking another. I thought it was one of the kids when they were living here at home. Then I would hear a key open the front door, and a voice would call, 'Mama, I'm home.' I would say 'Well who is here already?' The answer would come back, 'Nobody, I'm the first one,' and yet I knew someone had been here playing pool. "Look at the pool table. The balls are all in perfect order.When we have guests I seldom hear the pool game going on, but even then, sometimes one ball would disappear. Just last July a ball was gone for about two or three weeks, and then, suddenly, it was back again. My husband came in from work and said, 'Where in the world did you find that ball?' I went in and looked, for I hadn't found it either, but there ir was in the rack, right in the number one spot where it belonged."

Mrs. Turcot's children have grown up and have been living in other parts of the country for a number of years now. "When the children were at home and slept across the hall from each other, strange things happened. One would be in bed and see the door across the hall open and close. They would get up to speak to their brother or sister, glad they were still awake, too, but no one would even be in the other room. This was a frequent happining. I'm a nurse, and, when we first moved in, I just thought, well, I don't believe in any of that stuff."

  "You know how it is when you have a scientific education, you think everything has a cause. It may have a cause, but that doesn't mean I understand it. On our first Christmas here, in 1973, we had the tree in the front parlor and we were telling stories around it, about noises and all the things that happen in this house. Many of our guests who worked at the hospital like ourselves made fun of us, but, in the midst of their laughter and scoffing, the Christmas tree fell to the floor.

"No one had slammed the door, jumped, or even sneezed. Nothing. The tree just toppled over on top of several guests. The next day I asked my son to wire it so it would stay up. He put it back up without wiring it at all and said, 'Mother, look at this.' He jumped on the floor several times. 'This tree doesn't need wiring; it's as solid as a rock.' The tree stayed up for a solid month, for we never got around to taking it down until after New Years.

"One evening my husband and I were convinced we had uncovered the identity of our pool player. We were sitting out on the porch when we heard the sounds of a lively game going on in the house. We were sure it was our youngest son and his friends practicing up to play with the older boys. About that time, and to our amazement, he came walking up the driveway with a basketball under his arm. The three of us hurried in and went from room to room, checking the entire house, only to find all the doors locked from the inside, including the one that led out onto the porch, which we had secured when we came in from where we had just been sitting.

  "None of us ever felt threatened. This ghost is not a scary type, but in the other hand, its cetainly something we can't understand or explain."

Reed House, at 119 Dodge St., Asheville, North Carolina, now called Biltmore Village Inn, is open May 1 through November 1. Like many bed-and-breakfast, the house is in the process of being restored to its original beauty. For more information, telephone (704) 274-1604.