CataCombs, Treasure, and a Haunted Ravine

Top of Mind

Beneath the Streets: The Ghostly Legend of the Catacombs Nightclub

Tucked away beneath the bustling streets of Columbus, Ohio, the Catacombs Nightclub was a place that seemed to embrace the eerie and macabre from the moment it opened its doors in the 1940s. Patrons who descended into its underground depths were met with dim lighting, bone chilling decor, and a sense that they were crossing into another realm one steeped in ghostly theatrics and uncanny mystery.

The venue wasn’t just your average nightclub. It was a fully immersive experience, with walls adorned by skeletal remains (well, plaster versions) and cryptic symbols meant to evoke the air of ancient burial catacombs. To enter, guests were transported down a haunted themed elevator an experience more fitting for a Halloween attraction than a typical night out on the town.

Once inside, entertainment was provided by the enigmatic “Marcus the Mad Magician,” whose strange acts added to the unsettling vibe. Tales of practical jokes that bordered on the disturbing were commonplace, with performers delighting in tricking patrons and playing with the boundaries of fear and humor. The nightclub quickly became a hotspot for those seeking something outlandishly different, blending nightlife with morbid curiosity.

But just as suddenly as it appeared, the Catacombs closed, vanishing after barely a year in operation. Was it financial trouble? Or was there something more sinister behind its sudden disappearance? Theories abound—some say the venue was too ahead of its time, while others suggest it was plagued by strange happenings that made even its most adventurous patrons uneasy. The mystery of its closure only added to its allure, and whispers of ghostly figures lingering in the space lingered long after the doors were locked for good.

Though the original Catacombs never reopened, its eerie spirit found new life in niche corners of Columbus’s nightlife scene. Goth and industrial music lovers resurrected the idea briefly for underground events and live performances. However, even these brief revivals were short-lived, and the venue remains more legend than destination today.

What truly makes the Catacombs a staple of Columbus lore is the absence of definitive answers. Like many ghost stories, it’s the unknown that keeps people intrigued. The nightclub may have faded from memory, but its spirit—part myth, part reality—lives on. And isn’t that the heart of any great ghost story? Perhaps one day, someone will discover the truth of why the Catacombs closed. Until then, it remains a tantalizing “what if,” cemented in Columbus’s haunted history.

Whether you believe in spirits or not, one thing is certain: some stories never die—they only wait for the next curious soul to find them.

Scarlet Letter Trivia

Question: What year did Columbus have its hottest trick-or-treat, with a toasty 83 degrees on Halloween night?

A) 1944
B) 1950
C) 1918
D) 1851

The Treasure Hunters Litigation

Buried Treasure, Broken Trust: Columbus’ Hunt for Tommy Thompson’s Lost Gold

Columbus, Ohio – Before Tommy Thompson became the elusive deep-sea treasure hunter trapped in a web of lawsuits, he was a rising star at Battelle, the prestigious Columbus-based research institution. In the 1980s, Thompson captivated some of the city’s top businessmen, including Donald Fanta, the former president of the Ohio Co., and John F. Wolfe, then publisher of The Columbus Dispatch. They were sold on his dream: uncovering a sunken treasure from the S.S. Central America—known as the “Ship of Gold” and changing history forever.

And, at first, he delivered. In 1988, Thompson and his team struck gold literally. After years of painstaking research, they located the shipwreck off the coast of South Carolina, where it had rested since 1857, weighed down by thousands of pounds of gold coins and bars. Thompson’s arrival back onshore was greeted with fanfare, complete with a marching band and crowds cheering him into Norfolk, Virginia, like a modern day pirate hero.

But the celebration didn’t last. Almost as soon as Thompson hauled the treasure to dry land, 39 insurance companies swooped in, claiming rights to the gold. Adding to his woes, his Columbus investors those who had collectively sunk $12.7 million into the expedition sued him for failing to pay them their share. Instead of dealing with the lawsuits, Thompson vanished, living off the grid in Florida, paying rent with moldy $100 bills, and hiding under fake names.

Coins, Coins, Where are the Coins?

In 2012, a federal judge in Columbus summoned Thompson to explain the whereabouts of 500 gold coins minted from the recovered treasure worth an estimated $2.5 million. Instead of appearing, Thompson disappeared. It wasn’t until 2015 that U.S. Marshals found him hiding out in a hotel near Boca Raton, Florida, accompanied by his longtime companion, Alison Antekeier. Their belongings included, fittingly, a copy of How to Be Invisible, a book about evading law enforcement.

Thompson’s arrest kicked off one of the most bizarre legal sagas in Columbus history. In 2015, he pleaded guilty to contempt of court and was sentenced to two years in prison but with a catch: he wouldn’t begin serving that sentence until he revealed where the missing gold coins were hidden. Despite numerous court hearings over the next eight years, Thompson has stubbornly maintained that he has no idea where the coins are. He claims the coins were transferred to a trust in Belize, but offers no evidence.

Judge Algenon Marbley, who has presided over the case since the beginning, is visibly exasperated. “The key to your freedom is in your hands,” Marbley told Thompson at one hearing. But Thompson remains silent. Each day he refuses to talk, he racks up another $1,000 in fines, with the total now over $2.7 million.

For Columbus investors, the disappointment runs deep. Figures like Wolfe and Fanta had once viewed Thompson as a visionary. Now, instead of payouts, they’re left chasing phantoms. Wolfe’s Dispatch has closely followed the saga, documenting Thompson’s descent from celebrated explorer to federal inmate.

Prosecutors, too, are running out of patience. “If he hasn’t talked by now, he may never talk,” said federal prosecutor Peter Glenn Applegate. The government is now recommending that the contempt charge be lifted, arguing that Thompson should finally begin serving his two-year sentence. Even if released, Thompson’s legal troubles would be far from over, as investors continue to press for answers about the lost gold.

The tale of the missing treasure has taken on a life of its own. In 2022, an ingot recovered from the S.S. Central America sold for $2.16 million at auction. Lost Gold, a new limited series by National Geographic and BBC Studios, is set to dive into Thompson’s strange odyssey. Meanwhile, next year will see the release of a 20th-anniversary edition of Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea, a book chronicling the original discovery.

For Thompson, though, the spotlight is dimming. “I don’t know the whereabouts of the gold,” he said, exasperated, during one of his many court hearings. “I feel like I don’t have the keys to my freedom.”

Even Judge Marbley seems ready to put an end to the saga. “I derive nothing from having Mr. Thompson incarcerated,” he admitted. “If I could purge him of the contempt, I would do so.”

Yet the investors, Columbus elite or not, are unlikely to see their promised return. The Ship of Gold’s treasure remains elusive, and the man who once found it seems determined to keep its secrets buried.

In the end, Thompson’s saga is less about lost gold and more about trust betrayed—leaving Columbus businessmen, federal prosecutors, and treasure hunters alike to wonder: will the truth ever surface?Smoked On High BBQ: Bringing Kosher to Tukery Day

🦃 Smoked to Perfection: Holiday Turkey from Smoked on High

This year, our friends at Smoked On High are pulling out all the stops! Choose from their signature smoked, succulent turkey breast or explore something new with their 100% Vaad-certified Kosher turkey breast.

Both options are slowly smoked over shagbark hickory wood in their rotisserie smokers, promising a rich, smoky flavor that’s perfect for Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, or any festive gathering. No stress is required—these turkeys come pre-sliced and ready for the table.

🦃 Click here to gobble up all the details and secure your order before it’s too late.

The Haunting of Walhalla Ravine: The Legend of the Mooney Mansion

During the day, Walhalla Ravine in Clintonville is a peaceful retreat—a sanctuary of trees and trickling streams tucked away from the bustle of the city. But when night falls, the atmosphere shifts. Locals whisper that Walhalla Road transforms into one of the most haunted places in Ohio, earning it the ominous nickname “The Gates of Hell.”

At the heart of this legend lies the Mooney Mansion, an eerie, white house perched above the ravine. The tale goes that in the 1950s, Dr. Mooney snapped after a long day’s work, murdering his wife and daughter before hanging their bodies from the Calumet Street Bridge. Some versions say he hanged himself too. To this day, people claim to see strange blue lights flickering in the mansion’s windows. And those brave enough to walk beneath the bridge at night say the reflection of the wife and daughter appear in the water, illuminated by an otherworldly glow.

Ghost hunters and thrill-seekers are drawn to the ravine’s unsettling energy. Some say the air feels thick with dread as if someone or something is watching. Nick Post, leader of the Ghost Hunting Gays of Ohio, swears the energy is so off that he refuses to walk Walhalla Road alone at night. Meanwhile, residents share eerie stories of parked cars creeping forward on their own when placed in neutral beneath the bridge. “It’s like the place is alive and doesn’t want you there,” Post says.

Even skeptics aren’t immune to Walhalla’s pull. Bob Peters, owner of Phoenix Books, admits he’s seen strange, white shapes lingering around the mansion. “I don’t know what it is,” he says, “but it’s there.”

But here’s the twist: The spooky legend has no basis in truth. Dr. Charles Mooney was a well respected physician, active in the Columbus community, who died peacefully at home in 1944. His wife, Derrie, passed away of old age in 1975, and no horrific events ever took place at the Mooney Mansion.

Despite the truth, the legend lives on, passed from generation to generation as a ghost story told around a campfire. Walhalla Ravine’s haunting reputation has become part of its mystique, a reminder that even the most peaceful places can feel unsettling when night falls. Real or not, one thing is certain: the Mooney Mansion casts a long shadow and it’s not just the trees blocking out the moonlight.

Trivia Answer:

B: 1950. With a High of 83, 1950 was the hottest Halloween in Columbus, Ohio!