'Tis the season for ghosts and goblins, and Nashville, Tennessee, surely has its share of spooky lore.

Several years ago I worked at Nashville's oldest hotel, which shall remain nameless. It has stood for nearly a century in downtown Nashville, where it has welcomed the rich and famous, as well as the ghostly and ghouly.

This time of year always reminds me of the story of the ghostly lady in green who has been seen twirling across the floor of the hotel's darkened ballroom. With moonlight streaming through the tall windows, she dances alone, trapped somewhere in time.

Or so the story goes.

The ghost stories were part of the tour for those interested in the history of the establishment. They were usually embellished by the storyteller, especially the one about the dancing lady.

But there seemed to be more sinister ghosts on the premises, too, like the apparition of a man in a hat in a corridor on an upper floor who has been known to strike fear in the hearts of those who have seen him.

Then there were the disembodied sounds of childish laughter that drove a bellman to quit.

Now I have a healthy respect for ghosts but had managed to avoid them, although one spot in the lobby inexplicably gave me cold chills every time I went near it. Then early one Saturday morning I was alone in my office which had a circular metal staircase that led to a small storage area below. With no one else in the locked office, I was startled to hear the distinctive creak of the handrail being gripped and a footfall on the metal steps.

But no one was there.

I'm not there anymore, either, but not because of my encounter with spookdom. However, I've always wondered what had gone on within those stone walls to leave so many spirits behind.

Contact Mallory @ mallory_m_@hotmail.com