No longer operating as a hotel, this building was said to have been split into two private homes, and neither family has noted any supernatural activity, reports say. The old hotel was said to be home to Claudia, the ghost of the original owner’s daughter, and some say the lights would turn on and off and the temperature would drop suddenly. Claudia, some say, was able to answer yes and no questions.
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Geographic Information
- Address:
- 2220 Sacramento Street
San Francisco, CA
United States
Get Directions » - GPS:
- 37.7904426, -122.43004400000001
- County:
- San Francisco County, California
- Nearest Towns:
- San Francisco, CA (1.2 mi.)
Sausalito, CA (5.6 mi.)
Tiburon, CA (5.9 mi.)
Belvedere, CA (6.0 mi.)
Daly City, CA (6.1 mi.)
Marin City, CA (6.9 mi.)
Broadmoor, CA (7.7 mi.)
Brisbane, CA (7.8 mi.)
Colma, CA (8.0 mi.)
Emeryville, CA (8.4 mi.)
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Disclaimer: The stories posted here are user-submitted and are, in the nature of "ghost stories," largely unverifiable. HauntedPlaces.org makes no claims that any of the statements posted here are factually accurate. The vast majority of information provided on this web site is anecdotal, and as such, should be viewed in the same light as local folklore and urban legends.
I stayed here when it was still a hotel in the mid to lates 90’s. She even said it was supposed to be haunted and the hotels website kinda exploited the whole,haunting thing. It was decorated in the traditional Victorian way. They even had those faux ghost frosted pics on windows that were meant to freak you out in our room.
Margot My mom and I shared a bed in one of the rooms. We both woke up at 3 am one night. Someone was in the bathroom. Swear to to god. I was too much of a chicken shit to investigate. Swear to god it was a ghost. The next morning her work phone was missing. She’d left it in the bath room since she was tired from the previous night. Our creepy ass visitor sounded exactly as if it was going going through her makeup bag.
Creepy as fuck!
I stayed here in the 90’s 95 or 96? Can’t remember. My boyfreind changed our reservation at a perfectly normal hotel to this place without my knowing, it was to be a “surprise” for me. Well, upon arriving and walking by the stagnant-algae-mosquito-larva-infested fountain out front, I knew I was in for it. We walk into the dark entrance to a check in desk with dusty dark wood and faded red velvet and taken up to our room. The furniture was cheap and ugly, the lamp on the side table had a broken glass shade, but the best part (note the sarcasm) was the wall, wallpapered with a mural of – wait for it — Mt. Rushmore. That’s right, dead presidents carved into a rock plastered on the wall. It was the biggest dump I have ever stayed in.