There’s a certain charge that runs through the old rail town of Ogden after dark, and nowhere does it hum louder than inside the storied walls of the Bigelow Hotel (Ben Lomond Hotel). Built in 1927 on the site of a pioneering hostelry and reborn many times since, this Italian Renaissance Revival landmark has hosted civic movers, starry-eyed newlyweds, conventioneers, and—if local lore is to be believed—a few permanent guests. In this guide, I’ll unpack the Bigelow’s past, the most credible (and chilling) paranormal claims, and how modern ghost hunters can experience the building respectfully today.
The History
From Reed to Bigelow: A Rail-Town Cornerstone (1891–1926)
Before the Bigelow Hotel (Ben Lomond Hotel) rose above Washington Boulevard, the corner at 25th Street was anchored by the Reed Hotel (1891). It served a city booming on railroad energy—the “Junction City” where lines from the Pacific and Rockies braided together. By the 1910s the elegant Reed showed its age. Civic boosters wanted a modern, fireproof, first-class hotel to match Ogden’s swagger and convention ambitions.
Banker and civic leader A.P. Bigelow emerged as the visionary. Backed by a corporation of roughly 300 local shareholders, he razed the Reed and set in motion one of Utah’s grandest hotel projects—intended not just as lodging, but as a stage for the city’s aspirations.
The 1927 Grand Opening: A Hotel for Presidents and Kings
Completed in 1927, the Bigelow towered above downtown—a three-part commercial block with a four-story base for ballrooms and shops and an 11-story “L” of guest floors above. Its reinforced concrete frame, brick veneer, and lavish terra-cotta trim proclaimed durability and style. The interior dazzled: an Arabian-themed coffee shop, a Florentine-inspired ballroom, a Georgian ladies’ parlor with Adamesque detail, an oak-paneled English Room, and the Shakespeare Room, whose murals by Utah artist LeConte Stewart were a cultural showpiece.
In an era of civic boosterism, Ogden hailed the Bigelow as a “fit home for presidents, kings, and emperors.” Politically, it hosted significant Western Democratic gatherings that helped signal Al Smith’s 1928 presidential push—evidence of how quickly the hotel became a regional stage.
Italian Renaissance Revival in the Intermountain West
Architects Hodgson & McClenahan—who shaped many of Ogden’s landmarks—clothed the Bigelow in a rarely used (for Utah) Italian Renaissance Revival idiom: arched storefronts, ornamental cornices, balustraded parapets, and rhythmic bays of tall sash windows. The richly decorated base interacted with the street; the tower’s clean massing spoke to modernity. The result: a Utah “grand hotel” peer to Salt Lake City’s Newhouse and the Hotel Utah, and Ogden’s most notable high-rise.
From Bigelow to Ben Lomond: The Eccles Era (1933–1970s)
The Great Depression reshuffled ownership. In 1933, financier Marriner S. Eccles acquired the property and rechristened it the Ben Lomond Hotel, after the serrated peak that headlines Ogden’s skyline. Through mid-century the Ben Lomond remained the city’s social and business center: banquets, dances, club dinners, and traveling shows filled its ballrooms. A 1957 annex on the east side reflected the automobile age, but the historic tower kept its primacy. Like many downtown hotels in the freeway era, however, the property weathered leaner decades as traveler habits changed.
Preservation, Rebranding, and a New Century (1980s–2010s)
By the 1980s, the Ben Lomond was both a preservation challenge and a civic opportunity. Rehabilitation work refreshed the façade and reactivated public spaces; the hotel’s architectural and historical significance earned listing on the National Register of Historic Places in 1990. Later, management flags came and went, and in 2017 the property revived its original name as the Bigelow Hotel & Residences, nodding to mixed hospitality and residential use.
National hospitality trends and Ogden’s downtown revival set the stage for the building’s next life. In 2019, the tower was converted into apartments—today’s Bigelow Apartments—while the ornate event spaces remain active for weddings and gatherings. The building continues to loom over Historic 25th Street as both landmark and living space, its public rooms still hosting milestone moments beneath plaster garlands and chandeliers.
Today’s Bigelow: Event Venue, Apartments, and a Famous Room
As of today, the property functions primarily as apartments with a thriving event venue in the historic ballrooms and parlors. Intriguingly for paranormal fans, the building’s most talked-about suite—Room 1102 on the “haunted” 11th floor—has been occasionally offered as a special-use rental, allowing history buffs and ghost hunters to book time in the fabled space when available. While day-to-day access is limited compared to the full-service hotel era, the Bigelow still opens its doors through events, tours, and select stays.
The Haunt
Ask a dozen Ogden locals about the Bigelow Hotel (Ben Lomond Hotel) and you’ll get a baker’s dozen of ghost stories—many orbiting the 10th and 11th floors. Across decades, certain motifs repeat: water that runs by itself, phantom phone calls from unrented rooms, elevators behaving with a mind of their own, and the unmistakable waft of old-fashioned perfume in empty corridors. Here are the best-documented legends and experiential reports.
The Bride of Room 1102
The most persistent tale centers on a young bride who allegedly drowned in the bathtub of Room 1102 on her wedding night. In variations of the story, water in 1102’s tub turns on spontaneously, guests feel watched during late-night soaks, and some report being nudged—hard enough to jolt them upright—while bathing. Whether you treat it as folklore or a case file, 1102 has become the nexus for investigator curiosity, with many EVPs and anomalous EMF spikes reported over the years.
The Neighbor Next Door: A Son in 1101
Connected to the wedding-night tragedy is a second legend: a grieving adult son booked the adjacent Room 1101 to retrieve his mother’s belongings and—overwhelmed—ended his life. Accounts in 1101 focus on heavy, oppressive emotions, sudden temperature drops, and murmured male voices that seem to come from the adjoining wall when no one is there. Whether or not the historical specifics can be proved, the linked-room motif appears in multiple independent retellings, a hallmark of entrenched local lore.
Room 1106 and the Wartime Mother
Another oft-repeated story is more tender than terrifying. During World War II, a woman awaiting word from overseas stayed long-term on the 11th floor. When the telegram finally came with devastating news, she died soon after—some say of a broken heart. Since then, staff and guests have described phantom calls to the front desk from unoccupied rooms in that stack, the scent of floral perfume lingering in empty hallways, and elevator cars stopping on the 10th or 11th floor with no passengers on board.
Elevators, Phones, and “Intelligent” Pranks
Elevator anomalies are common in historic buildings, but operators, residents, and overnight staff have logged patterns here that make investigators perk up: cars that stop on floors no one selected, doors that open on 11 with an empty cab, and lift bells ringing in sequence around the midnight hour. Front desks over the years have also reported phone calls originating from 11th-floor extensions in unrented rooms; when answered, the line is silent or drops instantly. These phenomena are ideal for controlled tests, since call logs and elevator event logs can sometimes be compared to witness timings.
Shadow Figures and Corridor Footfalls
Paranormal teams and overnight guests have documented classic apparitional activity on upper floors: soft footfalls that keep pace behind you, dark human-sized forms peeking around corridor corners, and the sense of someone standing just inside a doorway. In many accounts, these experiences cluster between 10:30 p.m. and 2:00 a.m., especially near the 11th-floor elevator lobby and stairwells—liminal spaces where movement and acoustics can play tricks, but where patterns still matter.
Other Tragedies Whispered in the Walls
Local lore also references an employee who was killed in an elevator-shaft accident and an individual who fell or jumped from an upper floor mid-century. As with many century-old hotels, these accounts range from verified to unverified. Investigators should treat them as leads, not facts, unless corroborated by contemporaneous news reports or archival records. Still, they’re part of the living story residents and long-time staff recount, and they often guide where overnight teams focus their baselines and trigger-object experiments.
Investigator’s Field Notes: Where and How to Work the Bigelow
- Focus zones: Elevators and elevator lobbies on the 10th/11th floors; Rooms 1101, 1102, and 1106 (when access is approved); the 11th-floor corridor bends; and vintage stair landings.
- Controls: Log elevator events (audible dings, door cycles) with timestamps; if possible, correlate with building systems data after the session. Note water-line noises and HVAC cycling to avoid false positives in EVP review.
- Trigger objects: A vintage rotary phone or telegram facsimile (for the wartime-mother legend) and a small perfume atomizer as a sensory cue. Photograph placements and avoid handling between sessions.
- EVP strategy: Short, respectful two-minute bursts with one relevant question each (“Do you remember the telegram?” “Were you traveling for a wedding?”). Leave a 10-second buffer between prompts. Document ambient train horns from Union Station and street noise—Ogden is lively on weekend nights.
- Bath fixture tests: If granted access to 1102, start and stop the tub multiple times to identify valve “echo run” or pressure equalization that can mimic autonomous water flow. Mark water-line ticks in your audio log.
- Scent documentation: If perfume is reported, ask non-investigator witnesses to describe notes (“powder, rose, lily?”) without leading them. Record HVAC status; scented cleaning products can linger in historic spaces.
Access & Etiquette
The Bigelow is an actively inhabited building; many floors are private residences. Always secure written permission for any investigation, obey quiet hours, and stay within approved zones. When the famed Room 1102 is made available as a special rental, treat it as both a research opportunity and a heritage space—no talc powder, no candles, and nothing that marks or damages historic finishes. The best paranormal teams leave no trace except well-kept notes.
Conclusion: Why Ghost Hunters Should Visit
If you crave a location with both architectural soul and textured haunt lore, the Bigelow Hotel (Ben Lomond Hotel) belongs on your Utah itinerary. Its history is meticulously documented; its legends are consistent enough to test and nuanced enough to surprise. You can fold a paranormal night into a wider Ogden weekend—tour Union Station museums, stroll Historic 25th Street, and then, if opportunities align, book an event, tour, or a stay in a permitted unit to feel the building after hours.
Come with respect for residents, curiosity for the past, and a careful investigator’s mindset. Whether you capture a definitive Class-A EVP or simply the echo of a glamorous age, the Bigelow rewards the attentive. And if an empty elevator stops for you on Eleven with its doors already open—well, step in and say hello. Just in case.