Signature Cocktail Lore

At the height of the 1940s, the St. Anthony Hotel’s Anacacho Ballroom glittered with elegance. Among its patrons was Isabella, a striking woman donned in a radiant red ballgown. Awaiting a lover’s rendezvous, her heart shattered when he never appeared. Devastated, she never moved on — not in life, nor in death. Guests now report glimpses of Isabella, her gown’s vivid hue unmistakable, as she wanders the corridors, forever searching for the man who broke her heart.

On February 8, 1965, Walter Emerick and his girlfriend took refuge from a storm in room 636 of the Gunter Hotel. After a heated argument, she met a grisly fate, her body missing, with rumors circulating that he meticulously dismembered her remains. A statewide alert for Emerick ensued. Soon, St. Anthony’s security, blocks away, reported a guest avoiding maid service. With trepidation, the police neared room 536. The jittery guard’s keys clinked, inadvertently alerting Emerick. As the door creaked open, a gunshot’s echo revealed his tragic, self-inflicted fate. Their restless spirits now echo in the corridors; hers, a vengeful specter, forever seeking justice.

In the 1930s, the St. Anthony Hotel was set to host a grand wedding. Eagerly, the bride stood at the altar in her delicate lace gown. Yet, as hours ticked by, the painful truth dawned — she had been jilted. Crushed by the betrayal, she tragically died of a broken heart. Now, her restless spirit, dressed in her deteriorating gown, wanders Peacock Alley and the Anacacho Ballroom. Her long, grey hair, tangled with faded flowers, seeks endlessly for the groom who betrayed her love.

In 1909, ambitious cattlemen Naylor and Searingen envisioned San Antonio’s jewel, the St. Anthony Hotel. This luxury establishment boasted avant-garde amenities: circulating ice water, steam heat, phones in each room, and lavish furnishings. With rooms priced at $1.50 and a slight bump to $2.00 for added luxury of a bath, it was a symbol of opulence. Today, guests whisper tales of Mr. Naylor’s spectral visits. Donning period attire, he graces the lobby, ensuring his grand legacy remains intact.

In the heart of 1920s San Antonio, Lila, a poised and elegant guest of the St. Anthony Hotel, was often seen lost in books within the library. Adored for her enthralling tales and her unmistakable lavender perfume, she became an enigma following a tragic, unsolved demise. Today, while her presence remains unseen, the alluring scent of lavender mysteriously wafts through the library’s air. The Lavender Lady, they whisper, is still among them, forever bound to her beloved sanctuary.

Amid the St. Anthony Hotel’s vibrant past, a suave gentleman made his mark. Ever-present at the St. Anthony Club, San Antonio’s elite sanctuary, he was unmistakable in his blue leisure suit and jet-black toupee, a nod to his youthful days. Renowned as a charismatic ladies’ man, he relished the nights until nature claimed him within the hotel’s walls. Now, he occasionally reemerges in the Club; his attire worn, toupee crooked, but his undying pursuit for romance, whether momentary or everlasting, remains unwavering.

Several years ago, the iconic St. Anthony Hotel embarked on a sweeping renovation, inadvertently awakening long-slumbering spirits. Amidst this transformation, owners inspecting demolition photos of the renowned Peacock Alley — the heart of the lobby — were startled. A mystifying ‘glow’ had emerged, eerily resembling a pixie. Since that revelation, newlyweds celebrating in the lobby have occasionally discovered this ethereal being playfully gracing their wedding snapshots, adding a touch of old-world enchantment to their cherished moments.