It can now be revealed. Room 243 at Jurys Hotel in Ballsbridge, Dublin, was haunted. And, even more strange, there has been no sight of the ghost since the hotel and its two sisters, the Towers and the Berkeley Court, were sold to developer Seán Dunne in 2005.
"The ghost who upped and left" was followed yesterday by 608 staff. Head hall porter Vivion Sheehan spoke of it yesterday, sceptically. "A shadow," he said, "could have been car lights."
With Bach playing over the public address system and the last coach tour just departed, he was in melancholy mood. He spoke of other ghosts. Princess Grace, Dev, Yasser Arafat, Johnny Cash, the very much alive Mel Gibson, moonwalker Neil Armstrong, and the Rolling Stones, back in Ireland on Saturday to slay them at Slane. All stayed at Jurys on his watch.
It began 44 years ago in May 1963 when he saw an advert at the Irish Independent offices on Middle Abbey Street in Dublin. It was for a hall porter at the then Intercontinental Hotel, which was taken over by Jurys in 1972.
He spoke of Jurys and its staff with an affection equal to that of Richie Bennis for his Limerick hurlers last Sunday. "I really love this hotel," he said. "A landmark in Dublin. Wonderful, wonderful years. I'd love to do it all again."
His feelings were echoed by general manager Glenn Valentine. There 20 years, yesterday was "a sad and proud day." His own association with the hotel has been a bit like that line from the Phil Coulter song The Town I Loved so Well. He "learned about life and I'd found me a wife . . ." His wife Diane worked at the Jurys Doyle group headquarters when they met.
Staff in Ballsbridge were "like a family, a super bunch", he said. He was dreading his final address to them at 2pm in Jurys ballroom. Upwards of 60 per cent of them had more than 20 years of service.
Seán Twohig recalled his days as night manager and how the lobby would be as busy at 3am as 3pm each day with people queuing for the Coffee Dock, which was open 23 hours a day - it closed from 5am to 6am.
He remembered going along the queue at 4.30am to tell the likes of U2 or Daniel O'Donnell that it was unlikely they would get in. That was in the days when taxis were more rare and people would often stay on until 6am when the Coffee Dock reopened.
For Silvie Grossi from Italy and her Swiss boyfriend Charlie Ponti, it was something of a "Last Breakfast Show", such was the attention showered on them over croissants and orange juice.
They were the last to have breakfast there, it was their first time in Ireland and their first time to stay in a hotel which was closing. It struck them as "a bit crazy", but they thought it "a very nice hotel".
Ester Schumpf from near Zurich was among the last guests to leave. She had been at the Dublin Horse Show and was a regular at the hotel. She was very surprised to hear it was closing. She believed there was no place in Switzerland where you would get such service. Then she was off to the airport in the last taxi.
The Oranges from Kent were regulars too. As they left for a last time, training supervisor PJ Ward waved after them.
"We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when," he chanted after them in a Charity You're a Star rendition of the Vera Lynn classic.
He spoke of how Yasser Arafat ate Rice Krispies with a teaspoon and how they broke the rules for Dana when she stayed there for 3½ months during the 1997 presidential election by allowing her to eat breakfast in the lobby.
Just the merest hint that more than a ghost has been kept hidden by staff at the three hotels over the years.
