The Lonely Ghosts of the Detroit Art Institute

The Detroit Institute of Arts(DIA) is one of my favorite places.  I was an art major at Wayne State University and several of our projects involved going to the museum and studying the art there.  My favorite painting was by Jean Leon Gerome and it was called Solitude.  It depicted a lonely lion laying in the middle of a deserted beach.  The lion appeared to be at at peace.  It's tan main shone in the sunlight against the brilliant azure sky.  Something about that painting, and that place spoke to me.   The DIA echoed the atmosphere in that painting.  It was a quiet museum.  It was not crowded with throngs of people and during the day, when I visited,  I felt like I was the only one there.  I went there in between classes and wandered the lonely halls.  The DIA like the rest of Detroit,  was often abadoned.

Entering the museum, the first thing you see is a room painted with massive murals by Diego Rivera.  Rivera did these paintings when the museum was founded in 1927.   The museum was built as cultural center for the then beautiful city and the art within the museum reflects the time and effort that was put into the collections.   The Rivera paintings alone are worth a visit.   However, like many places in Detroit,  the DIA is haunted.

Security gaurds who have worked at the DIA at night report seeing all kinds of strange activity in this museum at night.   Loud thuds echo throught the halls of the empty museum and there are sounds that seem like people are dragging the paintings from room to room.  When the noises are investigated,  all the paintings are where they are supposed to be and the rooms are empty.   Much of the haunting activity seems to surround a statue in the African art gallary called the Nail Figure.  It is the statue of a man impaled with spikes and many gaurds report seeing this statue moving or even dancing alone in the dark.

The Snake Goddess of Belle Isle

My family is from Detroit and I spent much of my time there as a child.  My family remembers back to the days when Detroit was a flourishing city.   My grandmother tells the same stories over and over again and  her favorite stories involve taking the street car to the theater.  There was nothing more wonderful in her mind than travelling through the streets of Detroit in search of adventure.  Time has faded my grandmother's mind and her lust for adventure and it has certainly been equally as cruel to Detroit, which is now a ghost town.  Even my childhood memories of this city seem brilliant in comparison to what it's become.

It is appropriate that Detroit has now become filled with ghost stories and legends.  My favorite Detroit ghost story is from Belle Isle.  Ottawa Indian lore tells of the beautiful daughter of chief Sleeping Bear. Her beauty was so stunning that the Chief kept her hidden from the eyes of young suitors by hiding her in a covered boat on the Detroit River. One day when bringing her some food, the winds, awed by her beauty, blew the covers off of the boat and it floated down the river. as it floated past the lodge of the keeper of the water gates, he also was stunned by her beauty and retrieved to boat and brought the young beauty into his tent, this enraged the winds who fell upon him, and buffeted him wildly about until he finally died from the beating. The winds, sorry for uncovering her beauty, returned her back to her father, Chief Sleeping Bear and begged the chief not to hide her from them again, but to let them enjoy her beauty. To protect her the chief, fearful that other men would follow, placed the princess on an island in the Detroit River and sought the aid of the Great Spirits to protect his beloved daughter by surrounding the island with snakes to protect her from intruders.


There she could run free with the winds around her, The spirits immortalized her by transforming her into a white doe and letting her live out eternity on the island. When the first white men appeared in the area they originally named the island Hog Island. but once they became familiar with the island, they renamed it Rattlesnake Island. It was not much later that it became known as Belle Isle. To this day, the maiden's spirit can be seen from time to time dancing in the wind on the island and most unsuspecting picnickers don't realize that the lovely girl in Native costume is not a modern miss dressed for a pageant, but is in reality the Goddess of Belle Isle. also know as the Snake Goddess of Belle Isle.

People who have seen this ghost say that she if you park on the island by the woods and wait in your car the Snake Goddess will come and call too you. She will signal to you to follow her into her kingdom