“Ghost in Bloomers” ran in William Randolph Hearst’s The Journal on January 19, 1896. This New York City “newspaper” published sensationalist tales in the spirit of the story presented here. As he built his newspaper chain, Hearst ramped things up with crime and sex stories more colorful than “Ghost in Bloomers.” He renamed his paper The New York Evening Journal in 1896, sometime after he published “Ghost in Bloomers.”
Those were the years of “yellow journalism” that featured melodramatic reporting. Notice that three colorful sub-headlines—called “decks” in the newspaper trade—follow the “Ghost in Bloomers” headline. “Spirit World,” “Spook,” “Mystic Girl,” and “All in White” draw the reader into the tempest in a teapot.
Don’t miss the histrionic references to stories of murder and buried treasure and “cases that are authenticated in the criminal history of the State”—all yellow journalism at its finest. Consider that the dateline reads “Oakland, Cal.” Who’s ever heard of Alameda?
Newspapers across the country either ran or mentioned “Ghost in Bloomers.” My personal favorite: On May 2, 1896, The Charlotte Observer in Virginia ran a one-liner in its “News and Notes for Women” column. “A ghost in bloomers has appeared in Alameda, Cal.,” the paper announced under the sub-headline “gossip.”
We once found old Sam, the clam digger, under the bridge with a hole in his skull. Then he appeared here one night, and we have lots of stories of murder and buried treasure around here.
Ghost in Bloomers
The New Woman Has Invaded the Realm of the Spirit World,
New Sort of Spook Seen by California Bridge Tender.
A Mystic Girl, All in White, Rides Over a Draw Bridge in Alameda
Oakland, Cal., Jan. 18. — A ghost in bloomers astride a specter bicycle has been seen by Ralph Hamlin, who runs the drawbridge between Alameda and Bay Farm Island. He is an old soldier, a member of the Grand Army of the Republic and of the California Hundred, and not a man to run at shadows.
For years he and his brother John have controlled the movements of the bridge. The draw connects the mainland of Alameda with Bay Farm Island, just a speck of high land included in the municipality of Alameda.
The neighborhood has a somewhat spooky record. Besides the cases that are authenticated in the criminal history of the State, there are many stories that have come down by tradition.
Many a midnight search for buried treasure has been made along these shores. In view of this history of the place it is quite proper that such a ghost as Mr. Hamlin describes should be seen there.
This is Hamlin’s story of the bloomers ghost:
“You may call it a ghost or whatever you please. I don’t know what you would call it when you see a woman go over the bridge in front of you; when you see her fall and go to pick her up and then find no one there.
“You can call it what you please, but that is the way it happened. Now you can get your psychological societies at work upon it to see if they can unravel it. Then you can turn some of your funny fellows loose on it and have them call it a ‘new woman ghost,’ and they can talk about women’s rights in ghostdom, and all that kind of stuff, but those things don’t change the cold facts.
“The facts were very cold on that night, too. It was good and bright, and just as cold as it was bright. I had been out, giving the bridge a twist for a schooner to get through, and I was going back to my house, when I saw a cyclist coming down the road. I did not see it until it was almost on me, and it went by at a two-minute rate.
“When it went by, I saw that it was a woman dressed in the popular Alameda cycling costume of the day. It made very little Impression upon my mind, however. The thing that struck me as peculiar was that a woman should be out alone so late at night. And that she should be dressed in a white cycling suit on such a cold night. We’ve got lots of cyclists down here when the roads are good, but they are very bad just now.
“So, I watched her when she went over the bridge. Just as she had passed over, she seemed to strike a chuckhole or a rut. And down she went. I hustled over the bridge to see if she was hurt, and when I got there no one was in sight anywhere.
“Now that is all I know about it. It gets lonesome over here once in a while, and we have had some queer experiences, but I don’t try to explain them any more than I try to explain this one. You can call it a mahatma, a spirit, a plain ghost, or an optical delusion, just as you want, and I won’t fight with you.
“But of all the strange things that I ever saw, this was the strangest. We once found old Sam, the clam digger, under the bridge with a hole in his skull. Then he appeared here again one night. We have lots of stories of murder and buried treasure around here, but I never heard anything about bloomers or bicycles connected with any of them.”
Dennis Evanosky is the award-winning Historian of the Alameda Post. Reach him at [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Dennis-Evanosky.
