gave me permission to share a few of his experiences:
The most haunted place I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing is the old
above the intersection of Doheny and Sunset Boulevard.
A friend of a friend was a LA park ranger with access to the roped off sections of the house.
As we entered the building, the day light was dropping quickly.
We entered and found ourselves in the front lobby which held a huge staircase leading upstairs.
Our host informed us that the ghost of Mr. Doheny roams the second floor level, and that he likes to pull the hair of women or push them down those very stairs.
All female rangers have quit, he added.
We then made our way downstairs to Ned Doheny's personal bowling alley;
the room used at the end of
There Will Be Blood
Daniel day Lewis
The sun wasn't even down yet, and we start to hear objects hitting metal scaffolding in the room next to us.
I went forward to inspect, and found nothing.
As we left the bowling alley and entered the stairwell to go the next level up, we heard soft, disembodied crying/wailing of a woman that sounded as though she were in deep distress.
We moved on, and found ourselves in the laundry quarters.
We turned off all our lights and just stood there.
Nothing happened so we moved on.
(Worth noting: later that night, my wife had an asthma attack immediately after we left, and I contracted walking pneumonia which lasted for nearly two weeks.
The head laundress, who had spent a great deal of time down there, died of a respiratory illness).
Finally, we made our way upstairs to the smuggling catwalk in the attic, and to Mrs. Doheny's bedroom.
Mrs. Doheny was a malicious woman, who was known to poison/murder prostitutes if she found them.
Being in her room was not comfortable.
The entire room seemed to be upset with us being there.
It was a vibe thing.
We left that room and the group split into two, to explore the catwalks.
Mr. Doheny had converted the home into a high end speakeasy for his opulent prohibition-era house parties.
Ornate wooden doors, disguised as tapestry, conceal little openings were bar tenders could serve drink to party goers.
In order to serve his guests booze and girls, Doheny had a catwalk system built in the attic which served as a smuggler tunnel.
I went to the north wing while the other group went east.
It was colder in that attic, and very quiet.
I took pictures but heard nothing, and finally got to a point where I would have had to climb down a ladder to another level.
I couldn't do it.
I exited the catwalk and made my way back to the catwalk entrance where my wife was waiting.
She was very scared and I suggested we should wait for the others to come back.
We waited for a few scary minutes.
The same uneasy vibe came back, but with an intensity that we just couldn't handle, and we both felt a need to escape.
We left the third floor and hurried down the narrow stair well which led to the second floor where Mr. Doheny apparently likes to reside.
We ran down an enormous hallway and towards the flight of stairs where women claim they feel pushed or their hair pulled.
We raced down those stairs and exited the building, and stood in the absolute center of the outside courtyard, waiting for the other group to eventually come out.
We sat out there, looking through the windows for signs of the flashlights of the other group.
We saw a light flash in opposite sides of the building.
We didn't know what to make of it, and just didn't move.
We were eventually found by the other group.
They said the saw a pool of what looked like blood at the end of the catwalk, got spooked and left.
I wish we had gone with that group...