Ghost Child Remembered

Several years ago, while signing books at the Historical Society’s annual cemetery tour, I spoke with a cameraman who had worked on the Nicolas Cage film “8MM.” He shared a fascinating story from the shoot at the Municipal Cemetery, where a storage shed had been converted into a temporary mausoleum.

During a break, one of the producers noticed a young child, playing up the slope near Orange Avenue. After watching him for about an hour, she began to wonder why he was out there alone and whether the youngster should be heading home. She walked over to check on him, but as she approached, the boy ran and ducked behind a tombstone. When she stepped around the monument expecting to find him crouching there, no one was in sight.

Eerie stories are hard to forget. This ghostly encounter brought to mind “Whistling” Davis, a Long Beach farmer, who kept the body of his dead child at home.  Perhaps some readers will remember Davis from my book “Murderous Intent?”

In 1885, Davis purchased 40 acres in the Willows area of Long Beach and 20 acres on the mesa near Signal Hill. He had been in trouble with the law on several occasions: Once when he drove an agent of the Horticultural Commission off his farm with a shotgun when told to spray his fruit trees; another time for tearing out a gate in an irrigation ditch.

He kept his wife, Charity, in strict isolation, barring her from leaving home and driving away any neighbors who tried to visit. If a boy so much as whistled or sang while passing by, Davis would charge outside swearing and fire his gun into the air to terrify him—an intense hatred of whistling that earned him the local moniker “Whistling” Davis.

Rumors had swirled around the Davis family for years. The trouble reached a tragic head in 1890 when their young child (some say it was a girl, others a boy) fell ill with cholera. Through an unfortunate oversight or mistake, the child was given an overdose of paregoric. As the condition deteriorated, the family summoned a doctor, who stated he could save the child’s life using a stomach pump. However, Davis refused to allow the procedure; the doctor left, and the youngster died shortly thereafter.

Following his child’s death, Davis became even more peculiar. He wouldn’t allow the youngster a regular burial saying the cemetery proprietors wanted too much for a burial plot. Instead, he dug a shallow grave in his potato patch and buried the coffin. Following a flood two years later, the coffin floated to the surface. Davis put the coffin in his cellar and there it stayed until another storm caused the cellar to flood. His other children rescued it and placed it on the front porch, in plain sight of the family and passers-by.

The scandal surrounding the unburied coffin and Davis’ severe abuse of his family eventually reached county authorities. When deputies arrived to investigate, they discovered the casket partially hidden beneath the porch and summoned the Long Beach coroner to open it. Inside lay the emaciated body of the child. Davis had simply shoved the casket under the house, where it had been left covered in filth and used by chickens as a roost.

Mrs. Davis, who may have been driven mad by her husband’s treatment and behavior, said it was her husband’s intention to clean the bones of the child and put them away. She didn’t know whether he intended to keep the coffin to put one of the other four children in or not, in case any should die.

The coroner seized the coffin and placed Davis under arrest for failing to provide his child a decent burial, remarking that any father who treated his deceased child like a dead cat belonged behind bars. The charge was ultimately dismissed after Davis agreed to properly inter the corpse – possibly in the Potter's Field section of the Municipal Cemetery, for which no fee was required. However, poor recordkeeping left many burials unrecorded, and no official entry confirms the child was ever laid to rest there.

I spent years wondering about the identity of the apparition seen during the Nicolas Cage filming. I approached the search keeping in mind the basic rule of ghost hunting – to uncover the absolute truth, no matter what that truth may be, and to always be skeptical. I realized there just weren’t enough clues to follow.

While it is tempting to believe the ghost is Davis’ child, finally freed from the solitary box under the porch to join the quiet chorus of the cemetery dead, the evidence is simply inconclusive. If only the cameraman could have recalled the name on the tombstone where the figure vanished, we might have had one missing clue needed to unravel the ghost's identity.

If you’d like to chat in person, stop by the Author’s Tent during the Historical Society’s annual cemetery tour on Saturday, Oct. 31 (visit their website for details). I’d be delighted to answer your questions about Long Beach history, my books, or local ghost lore – and I’d love to hear any stories you have to share.

Oh yes, if you ever wondered how Long Beach came to be, my latest book, “Gold Rush Entrepreneurs: Flint, Bixby and Co.,” tells the story. You can pick up a copy online today or grab one in person at the upcoming cemetery tour.

Claudine Burnett is a retired research librarian who has written more than 10 books on Long Beach history as well as numerous journal articles. For more, visit her website www.claudineburnettbooks.com.