FoxRidge Park – A Haunting Inspiration
One of my favorite aspects of being a recording musician is coming up with a project name. I must have recorded using a dozen different monikers over the years. There was ‘Cameras for Ghosts,’ ‘The Marwood Doud Tapes,’ ‘Kelly Drive,’ and – the wordy – ‘They Travel the Desert with Ghosts,’ to name a few.
I would compose and record these pieces of electronic music, attach a name to them, and send them off into the online music void. Eventually, I would grow dissatisfied with the finished projects. While some still reside in the farthest recesses of SoundCloud or Bandcamp, many are permanently deleted.
Needless to say, my appetite for recording never dissipated, and the frustration of creating a project and seeing it through was growing. So, after a few years of not making any music, I pulled out the old synths, dusted off my effects pedals, and got down to it. Before long, I had recorded over five new pieces of droney, melancholic ambient music. I was pleasantly surprised with the outcome, yet I needed one more thing: a new name.
What name would suffice for this new direction of music? I’ve always considered myself to be a bit of a nostalgist. I love the ephemeral and haunted things. One day, it came to me; I needn’t look further than a few miles from my house. There, you can find a park not unlike many of the parks scattered across the valley. However, this park did come with a caveat. By all accounts, FoxRidge Park is haunted.
FoxRidge Park I.
FoxRidge Park is located at 420 North Valle Verde Drive in Henderson. It’s not particularly large, and like many parks, it abuts a school. There is a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints across the street and a fire station not too far beyond that. The neighborhood is typical of a suburban Southern Nevada neighborhood; HOA-infused subdivisions and 90s chic townhomes.
On paper, the park is so stereotypical that you may ask, “How did it earn its haunted reputation?”
Online Investigation reveals several articles detailing the hauntings of FoxRidge Park. Additionally, searching YouTube leads to multitudes of videos depicting paranormal researchers and other brave souls hoping to come face to face with a ghost. The varying reports claim all manner of phantoms in the park, with the most famous being that of a little boy who was tragically killed by a drunk driver.
Jeremy Schwartz, an online blogger and self-proclaimed skeptic, presents a detailed report on his findings about the park. According to Schwartz, the first accounts of the ill-fated little boy and his untimely demise appear in a 2007 book titled ‘Weird Las Vegas and Nevada.’ Schwartz eventually uncovered that an employee with Haunted Vegas Tours co-wrote the book.
If you read Schwartz’s blog, it becomes apparent that there are plot holes in the account of the little ghost boy. I was able to substantiate this. After sifting through local news reports, sleuthing web forums, and accessing the ever-trusty Findagrave.com, I couldn’t locate any record of an accident leading to a child’s death anywhere near FoxRidge Park.
Park Lore
Local lore about the park seems to have taken on a life of its own, as lore tends to do. Suddenly, the little boy who met such a tragic end becomes a demonic entity, as declared by several online posts. Also, he now shares the park with a gaggle of ghostly friends. Dear reader, the absurdity knows no bounds. This ghost of a little boy who favors the park’s swing sets now shares it with a woman who was presumably murdered by an axe? I repeat, at some point, a woman was brutally murdered in the park with an axe and is doomed to roam the grounds for all eternity. There’s no record of such an attack ever taking place.
I think now is a good time to mention, I’ve never actually been to FoxRidge Park before. It was always on a list of local haunted places I aimed to visit. The ever-growing list contains such classic Vegas haunts as the Hoover Dam Lodge outside Boulder City and Redd Foxx’s house. Inevitably, I find myself heading to FoxRidge Park one cool Sunday evening in April. I figure better late than never. Besides, I’m not going to this park to collect Pokémon or anything like that, I’m going to collect ghosts.
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Ghosts
Fantasma (fahn-tas-mah) (Spanish), obake (oh-BAH-keh) (Japanese), spøkelse (spo-kee-suh) (Norwegian), and mzimu (muh-zee-moo) (Swahili) are just a few cultural names for ‘ghost.’ For centuries, ghosts and the stories we attribute to them have held audiences captive. History.com’s article titled History of Ghost Stories states, “The concept of a ghost, also known as a specter, is based on the ancient idea that a person’s spirit exists separately from his or her body, and may continue to exist after that person dies.”
Countless numbers of spiritualists, ghost hunters, skeptics, and believers have all sought the same thing: to experience an authentic encounter with a ghost. My own interest in the paranormal started in second grade. My dad gifted me with a book series by Time-Life called ‘Mysteries of the Unknown.’ They were filled with the coolest stuff, from the Bermuda Triangle and outer body experiences to Bigfoot and UFOs. If you’ve been reading this article, then it’s safe to assume that out of all of the books in the collection, my favorite was the one called Hauntings.
Receiving these books had a sort of snowball effect. Very soon after, I remember watching the 1988 film: ‘The Lady in White,’ a coming-of-age story about a boy growing up in a small town in Upstate New York; a town that happens to hold ghostly secrets. I watched it so much, I must have worn the VHS tape out. Then, there was the computer game I began playing religiously: ‘The 7th Guest.’ Released in 1993, the game follows the protagonist as they solve a series of puzzles throughout a haunted mansion/sanatorium.
By this point, it was already too late; I was far too gone. I’d taken to spooking myself on purpose, for fun, and I couldn’t get enough of ghosts.
Family Ghost Stories
When asked, most people either have a ghost story of their own or know someone who does. My mom spoke of running into a weeping woman in a cemetery near her childhood home, where she, her brothers, and the neighborhood kids all played hide & seek. According to her, the woman was seated on a bench in an area where infants are laid to rest; her face hidden in her hands, the only sound, a gentle whimper. Given the nature of the location, nothing too out of the ordinary, except for the woman being dressed like it was the early 1900s, and it being about one o’clock in the morning.
My dad worked most of his adult life at a solar power plant outside of Hinkley, California, a small, rural town. He would come home and tell me about his terrified co-workers who swore that they had come across something supernatural while out patrolling the massive solar fields late at night.
As for myself, I don’t know if you can call this an encounter with a ghost, but the night my great-grandfather passed away, I woke up to him standing in my bedroom doorway. Groggily, I looked at him, turned over, and fell back fast asleep. It should be noted that I was in California and he was in Pennsylvania. The next morning, my mom received the call that her grandfather had died. I chalked it up to a dream, however ominous it was. My mom had been talking about his ill health and admission into the hospital for days leading up to his passing. So, inception maybe? Maybe, Nagypapa (noz-poh-poh) (Hungarian for Grandfather) wanted one last look at his only great-grandchild before leaving this mortal coil.
FoxRidge Park II.
It was dusk when I pulled up in front of FoxRidge Park. It had been an unseasonably hot day, but the swelter had finally subsided. The park’s trees, thick with spring foliage, cast deep shadows, creating an eerie facade. I imagine, if Henderson were a coastal city, there would be mist hovering low to the ground, and rightfully so.
Though reality often shatters expectations. While the park lacks adequate lighting, increasing the overall spookiness, it’s actually quite busy. Not only is Valle Verde a major roadway, but a family is cleaning up after a BBQ, a woman aimlessly walks her dog, and a group of teenagers talk rather loudly by the playground. The park is certainly haunted… With locals.
I know it’s early, and any supernatural events would best be served to take place around the witching hour or something, but the internet told me that the entire park exudes a dark, foreboding feeling. I don’t experience that at all. In fact, as I make my way to the haunted swing set, I can’t help but think FoxRidge Park is one of the nicer parks I’ve visited. About the swings, I sit in one and get a little air before hopping off and making my way to a nice patch of grass. The neighboring swing remains still the entire time; no spectral companion here.
Fox Ridge Park in FoxRidge Park – What’s in a Name?
Sitting in the legendary haunted FoxRidge Park, I’m overcome with peace. I pop my earbuds in and listen to the tracks I recorded. Fox Ridge Park in FoxRidge Park, I laugh to myself. For the first time in a long time, I’m proud of something I made.
Taking in my surroundings, I think, maybe the park’s haunted, maybe it’s not, but right now, it sure is pleasant. Perhaps, that’s how ghosts should be thought of: pleasant reminders of what once was. Leaving the park, it never dies down. Instead, it seems like more people show up. I can’t blame them. Right now, the weather is amazing.
If you visit FoxRidge Park, please be mindful that it is a public park and rules and laws do apply.
My music (Fox Ridge Park) can be found on YouTube, Bandcamp, and Soundcloud.
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